Following In Your Direction [One Direction: Zayn Malik Romance]

16. Decisions and Heartaches

                “Rose! You’re home!” Jamie screamed, coming up and tackling me with a hug.

                I tried to smile at her, but my lips wouldn’t have it. I ended up molding my full, pink lips into some sort of grimace rather than a smile as I just dropped it, hugging her back. It felt good to be reunited with my best friend, but the pain in my heart reminded me that I had just left five of my other best friends back somewhere in England.

                “Why are you back? What happened?” Jamie asked, speaking at a million miles a minute as she pulled me inside. “And why do you look so upset, Rose?”

                My bottom lip trembled as I forced myself to say, “I left.”

                Jamie froze. “You just dropped the tour?”

                “Yes.”

                “Why?”

                “Because, nobody would notice if I was there or wasn’t there. I was never meant to come along and try to steal the boy’s spotlight like I’ve been doing – it’s all about them, not me.” I told her sadly.

                My best friend looked at me with wide eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

                I opened my mouth to respond a wary, unintelligent response, but my phone ringtone interrupted me from doing so. Glancing down at the phone, only more tears were summoned to my eyes when I read that it was Zayn again. I ignored the call before putting it on her kitchen counter, sitting down at the table with my forehead pressed against the cool wood.

                “We’re going to need some serious girl time.” Jamie told me. “I’m going to run to the grocery store and grab a few movies and some ice cream, okay? Just lay down on the couch or something.”

                “Okay,” I whispered, forcing the tears not to escape.

                I heard my best friend hurry out of the room as I lifted my head, sniffling and still fighting against tears. Glancing around, I noticed I was now in the empty house, and my phone had also begun vibrating on the counter again. Warily, I grabbed it, reading the caller ID before answering.

                “Hi, Harry.” I whispered into the phone, trying to keep my voice from cracking.

                “Hi? All I get is hi?” A very angry Harry questioned. “Do you know how much the lads are freaking out? Zayn looks like he’s ready to shoot someone!”

                A stray tear slipped out of my eye at Zayn’s name. “I’m sorry…”

My head hurt.

As did my heart.

                “Where are you right now?” Harry asked, some anger in his voice subsiding. “You aren’t roaming around the streets, are you?”

                I took a deep breath before answering, “I’m home.”

                Silence filled the line and, for a fleeting moment, I was scared that I would hear Zayn in the background screaming that he was going to come to America. But then Harry answered in such a low voice – low so the other boys couldn’t hear him – that made an official sob break loose.

                “What did we do wrong?”

                Nothing. They did absolutely nothing wrong. “Haz, I gotta go.”