Maybe

12: Stalkers and Chicken Dinners

Niall POV

"Zayn," I cry, running over to the boy as soon as I spot him. He looks bedraggled; his usually neat quiff covers his eyes and looks so greasy it could be mistaken as wet. His clothes are presentable, but just barely so, and he smells - well, he doesn't smell like the normal Zayn, who takes about three showers a day and practically bathes in cologne. Tori, who I seem to have lost during my sprint to my best friend, latches back onto my arm. 

"Hi, Niall," he croaks. At least he's been brushing his teeth. "And Tori, I presume?"

"Hi," Tori murmurs beside me. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he says, smiling down at her. His smile looks strange to me, and then I realise: his eyes were sad.

"How are you?" I ask quietly. At this question, he stops walking, his eyes unfocusing. "Zayn?"

Tori detaches herself from me and silently takes his hand and leads him forward. He complies but still appears to be in a world distant from us. "Where do we take him?" she asks simply, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

"My car," I finally reply after a long pause. Seeing Zayn like this made me feel like my legs were too heavy, too, and I stop walking. Tori notices and takes my hand in her free one.

"It's okay," she whispers, but to whom, I'm not sure. "She'll be fine."

Zayn snaps from his reverie and turns to Tori, his expression unreadable. "How do you know?" His tone is that of someone who's afraid to hope, but hopes anyway. 

"Because I had it once," she states. He stares at the ground, meditating on this new piece of information.

I shake myself back into my normal functions, seeing that Zayn's cheeks have a little more colour in them, and unlock the car when we reach it. But Tori places her hand on mine as I'm about to open the driver's door. 

"I'll drive," she volunteers, placing Zayn's hand in mine. "You need to be with Zayn. You know Perrie better than I do." 

Without thinking, I hand her the keys and shuffle to the back of the car, where I squish in with Zayn. He's still in a kind of zombie-like state, but less so. "Zayn? How are you, mate?"

"Tired," he mumbles automatically. 

"You can sleep, Zayn," Tori says.

"No," he says, "the trip to the hospital's a short one."

"Your mum and sisters are waiting for you in Bradford," I say. "That's a while away. Sleep, Zayn. Perrie's not in England yet. When she's here, we'll take you ourselves."

"Promise?" He blinks sleepily, like a child. 

"We promise," Tori answers. Within seconds, he's out like a light.

"Can I drive now?" I ask.

"No," she says, motioning towards my arm. I look down and notice Zayn's tight grip on it. "He still needs you there."

"You don't even know where we're going," I say. She grins, and I'm left wondering what in the world could possibly be funny about that statement.

"Oh, Niall," she says, shaking her head. "You underestimate my fandom."

"Fandom?" I ask. Then it clicks. "You mean - you know his address?"

"Been there several times, in fact," she says sheepishly. "Never did go inside. I just drove past it whenever we were in Bradford. Sometimes I saw his sisters."

"That's.. kind of creepy."

"I know," she says, giving off one of the laughs I love so much. One that I was going to miss so much when I was in America.