Not Happening

Chapter 2

"Do you have to do that right now?"

Liam smirks from his spot on the floor. He leans back until his back is nearly hitting the floor, and then he pulls himself up to his legs, bent at the knees, keeping his feet planted firmly on the ground. He doesn't have to, since all of the school's athletes have access to the gym 24/7. He just likes to fuck with Zayn.

At least, Zayn is pretty sure that's why Liam does it. Maybe every little thing he does isn't actually intended to make Zayn's blood boil, but it does. And he's distracting. Zayn's trying to type out his essay so he can spend the rest of the night watching TV on his computer. But Liam's grunting and sweating and breathing heavy, and Zayn can't focus on copying the words from page to computer with Liam doing that shit.

He's just about to give up when someone knocks at the door. Zayn turns, fingers hovering over the keys, and Liam calls out, "Come in!" while continuing with his sit-ups, which is admittedly a little impressive, since Zayn figures he himself would be too busy wheezing to talk if he were in Liam's position. Then again, Liam's extremely in shape, which is probably a good thing because, really, he doesn't have much else going for him but his body.

The door opens, and Louis comes into the room, dressed differently than Zayn's seen him all week. That's just what Louis does. Between Monday and Friday, he refuses to shave, barely showers, and walks around in the same sweatpants days in a row with messy hair tucked under a beanie. But then, Friday night, he shaves and styles his hair and changes the worn clothes for perfectly pressed shirts and tight jeans, going from homeless to boy-next-door in a matter of hours.

"Hey," Zayn says. "What's up?"

Louis shuts the door behind him and sidesteps Liam on his way to Zayn's bed. "I've come to rescue you from the world of academics. Figured you could use a break, and I know you won't take one on your own, so hurry up. Finish whatever you're doing, and then get dressed. We're going out."

Liam snorts from the floor; Zayn ignores him. "Going out where?" he asks.

"A party," Louis admits.

"I don't go to parties," Zayn points out. He doesn't see the appeal. Last time he had, he lost Louis and Harry in the crowd, someone spilt beer on him, and he'd spent the whole night in the corner, praying one of his friends would come rescue him. Or maybe hoping someone would try to talk to him, but everyone had ignored him, as they always do.

"Because you're never invited," Liam snickers. He's moved on to doing push-ups now - one handed push-ups. Show off.

"Well he was invited tonight," Louis hisses at him. He turns to Zayn. "Ignore the side effects of steroids on your floor. Come out with us. Harry wants you to come, and no one can say no to Harry."

Zayn rolls his eyes. He doesn't want to be the only one not going, though. Doesn't want to spend tomorrow in the common room, listening to Louis moan about a hangover and Harry recount their hilarious, drunken adventures. "Home by one at the latest?" he bargains.

"Promise," Louis says, hand over his heart. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Zayn saves his paper on the computer and shuts his laptop. Liam's foot juts out in front of him when he heads to the dresser, but he sees it before he can trip, so his kicks Liam hard in the shins and says, "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to."

Liam glares at him and gets up. "Whatever. I'm coming with you guys."

Zayn puts his glasses on top of the dresser while he changes into a clean t-shirt. He puts the glasses back on, pulls on a hat, and that's about all he's going to do to get ready.