A Way to You [Zayn Malik // Niall Horan]

Harper, Oh Harper.

Harper’s P.O.V.

“OW! Mother holy-,” My best friend’s head popped up when my eyes flashed to the ruckus.

As I quickly rushed to my window, I helped Maddy climb inside my room-Oh my bad, scratch that-helped Madeline climb inside my room. Ever since she came back from London after her Father's wedding, she’s been insisting she shall be called that; she has such sass. I pulled her inside by her scrawny arm.

“Shit, Harper. When are you going to get rid of your tiger outside? It attacked me again,” She says, showing me claw marks.

I laughed, “Madeline, please. That is no tiger; Mass is a cute kitten.” She made herself at home like always, plopping herself unto my bed.

“An eighty year old lion is not what you call a ‘kitten’.” I noticed a twinge of a British accent in her voice even though it has been almost four months since she came home. “So,” she starts, lying back on my bed. “I heard Hunter is having a party.”

 I roll my eyes at her. She always knows when the parties are and who throws them. Unfortunately, I’m just her wing girl. “Hunter is a pothead, but what I really wanted to say is that Wyatt is back in town.” She sighed, pulling her legs in Indian style. Wyatt was her boyfriend up until he forced her to have sex with him; the relationship only lasted two months until he ended up in the back of a police car. That was a crazy night; Police pulling up and him being put into handcuffs.

My mind flashed back to reality as I heard Madeline’s stomach growl loudly. “Have you eaten lately?” It was twelve in the morning, but I still asked. She opened her mouth, but shut it when nothing came out. That could only mean one thing: Her mother didn’t give her money for groceries again.

“How about we watch a movie?” She asks, changing the subject.

“How about instead, let’s go get McDonald’s.” I say, grabbing my Vera Bradley lanyard that held my money, driver’s license, and keys. “Let’s go, Hun.” Madeline simply nodded as I grabbed her hand leading her downstairs. I know my Mom won’t care for a late-night fast food run. We’ve literally been shoving money into Madeline’s things like pockets or purses for years.

Her Mom was barely ever home; her older sister, Cass, was always at her boyfriend’s; her rich ass doctor Daddy boy was married to a bimbo and lives in London, however still pays for Madeline's school, phone, and other stuff like that. That divorce of her parents a few years back was not a pretty one; consequently, Madeline's Mom is now drunk everyday and is pretty messed up. But Madeline? She's a strong one; I love her for that.

Madeline got into step behind me so I let go of her hand. When we stepped out of the front door, I could spot my red Mazda CX-7 thanks to the full moon that shone over our heads.

“I don’t have any money, Harper.” Madeline stated truthfully.

“I’m paying, and I don’t mind. I just got paid today and you’re my best friend; I’m not going to let you starve.” She sighed, clicking her  seat belt as I put the car in reverse.

Madeline turned on the radio; she loves music. We bobbed our heads to the Dubswift, along its beat. “And now I’m lying on the cold hard ground,” we both looked at each other mischievously before we screamed along exaggeratedly, “AH!”

We corrupted into laughter as we pulled up into the vacant parking lot. I cut off the engine and unlocked both of our doors, getting out.

“Hey, did you hear what Taylor swift did at the Grammy’s?”

Madeline looked at me, confused, “no, what?”

I smiled, “You know the talking part in ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together’ she did a British accent impression of Harry Styles.”