Perhaps, Maybe, I Dunno (boyxboy)

Chapter 18

2 days late, but still fab, right?

Thanks to monica090909 for posting on my message board and motivating me to write this chapter. (did I say motivating? I meant reminding. This week has been hectic!) Thanks also to all the lovelies who comment and vote. You guys are my faves <3

Thanks to everyone who reads my story. It means a lot.

xx toetouches

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"Hey," Harry says awkwardly. His voice comes out raspy and low, even though Zayn's the one who just woke up. Zayn looks at Harry with a wild-eyed expression, and Harry sees his eyes shift to his discarded shirt on the ground, then back to Harry's face. He notices the panic rising in Zayn's face before he even says anything.

"Oh my god," Zayn says. His voice is a low whisper, but he enunciates each word as if he is shouting, "Did I? Did we?" Harry shakes his head once, firmly, and he can hear the deep breath that Zayn lets out. Suddenly, he tenses up again.

"Was I," he scratches his head and clears his throat, "acting weird?" The boys are still laying on their sides, facing each other, and Harry is finding it hard to breathe. He's trying to focus on regulating his breath, but being this close to Zayn is putting a strain on his willpower.

"Um yeah, kind of," Harry replies, but he knows that "kind of" is an understatement, "Care to explain that?" Zayn sighs and sits up on the bed, tucking his legs underneath him. Even though Harry can breathe again, he wishes Zayn would lay back down next to him. Sure, being near Zayn makes him feel on edge, but it makes him feel something else, too. It makes him feel like maybe he can do something right, because he knows that, with Zayn, he won't fuck up.

"So you know that I'm in Uni, right?" Zayn asks. His voice has a slow cautiousness to it, like he's treading on a dangerous war zone. Harry nods, as not to give his voice a chance to betray him.

"And I work, too, you know. So I can pay to go," Zayn says the last part quietly, as if he's ashamed. Harry knows that he's the one who should be ashamed. His parents offered him a free ride to a prestigious college, which he turned down. And here's Zayn, wonderful, interesting, kind Zayn, struggling to pay for his education. Harry is ashamed because he knows that Zayn deserves everything that he turned down and more, and he's just the spoiled asshole who doesn't know the value of what he has. It's the stupid shit like this, the shit that Harry does all the time, that makes Harry wish he was someone else, just so he could be good enough for Zayn.

"And I'm just so tired, Harry." Zayn's eyes are glazed over with exhaustion, and Harry has to fight off his emotions. If he does anything right ever, it's gonna be letting Zayn finish uninterrupted.

"So I let, um, some guy from my Psych class. He knows a guy, and he got me something to um, keep me awake," Zayn says, his eyes are focused now, and they look almost pleading. Harry doesn't get it at first, but he looks at Zayn and thinks about his words, and then it clicks. Zayn was high.

"Oh." Harry doesn't know what else to say. He mostly feels bad about himself, and how Zayn wouldn't be feeling this way if he'd had the same upbringing as Harry. Zayn would probably do something with his opportunity, instead of just rejecting it, running away from it.

"Harry?" Zayn says, his voice is barely audible, and his eyes look fearful. He's afraid that Harry will judge him, and the expressions running across Harry's face probably haven't done much to reassure him. Harry recognizes the fear, and he sits up and draws closer to Zayn, wrapping his arm around Zayn's shoulders. Harry wants to make it a neutral hug, he really does, but the last time he touched Zayn is fresh in his mind, and he drops his arm from Zayn's shoulder abruptly.

"It's just," Harry feels his throat closing up, "I'm an awful person." Zayn's eyes look quizzical, and he frowns.

"You're here, struggling to pay for Uni, and when my parents offered to pay for me to go to Oxford, I said no," Harry continues. He can barely even look at Zayn, but when he does, his heart drops. Zayn's fear has shifted into anger, and Harry knows that he won't ever be able to be with Zayn. Zayn's too good for him, and Harry doesn't think he'll ever be able to catch up.

"Why is everything always about you, Harry?" Zayn asks. His question takes Harry by surprise.

"I just confessed that I got high, Harry. I took someone else's prescription, and I confided in you about it. But it's still about you, isn't it?" Zayn's voice has an edge to it, and Harry says nothing because he knows Zayn is right.

'But everything's about you, Zayn,' Harry wants to say. He wants to tell Zayn that he can't stop thinking about him, that every time he sees Zayn he wants to be perfect for him, just so he can even dream of being with him. He wants to say all these things, but he can't. Maybe it's because he's scared, but Harry remains silent as Zayn sighs and lays back down, facing away from Harry. And maybe it's because he's selfish, but Harry stays.