Forty-Two

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Chapter Forty-Two

☠ Chapter Forty-Two ☠

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ZAYN'S POV

After listening to Drew's voicemail on my answering machine, I went back to bed. Fuck Kit, she could wait. And after a nice long sleep, I went and got myself a new cellphone before I even started driving towards Drew's place. Eventually, I'm pulling into his driveway and walking up to the front of the house.

I knock lightly and within a minute, Drew's opening the door. He stands before me in his low-slung sweatpants, and eyes that, in their struggle to adjust to sunlight, are nearly closed. "Finally," he says, with annoyance laced in his voice. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I just got your message, mate."

"Your girlfriend's passed out in the living room with Snow," he utters before he steps back, allowing me to step inside the house. I cringe at the word girlfriend because I don't consider Kit my girlfriend, she's just a girl that always seems to be around. I notice the two of them immediately—they're both curled up in a ball on the floor near the couch.

"What the fuck is—" I hear Kit moan, using her arms in a struggle to lift her body up. "Zayn?" She calls out in a rushed tone, before she stands up in a hurry. Once she stands, she tries fixing her hair and her clothing, but there's no fixing it. She looks like fucking shit.

In her haste, she manages to wake up Snow, who also looks like a pile of shit—with knotted hair, bloodshot eyes, dirty clothes, and big bags under her eyes. Once she stands, she ends up falling right back over, and onto the soft cushions of the couch. Snow rubs at her eyes before she utters out, "What time is it?"

"Christ, it feels like it's five in the morning," Kit clutches her head as she winces.

"Actually, it's well after one in the afternoon," I point out. I mean, I wasn't one for mornings, but whatever it is these two were on has clearly fucked them up beyond the point of realization. Taking in Snow's appearance, it seems as though she might be back on her old habits. Fresh out of rehab, and it looks as if she's already on the fucking pills again. Is that where her and Kit went to last night? Does this mean that Kit was in the fucking stuff too?

It's not that I give two shits about Kit, because I really don't—she's annoying as hell, and I don't even know that I fully trust her tales of our budding romance because it really doesn't sound like me. How do I know that she isn't just someone that's taking advantage of my memory loss? I mean, there are no photos of us in the house, despite the fact that she claims we live together. There are just little things I've noticed over the last few days that do not add up to her claims.

"Oh," Kit says quietly before fixing her clothing again.

Drew takes a step closer to me, "I think you should take Kit home. She was pretty fucked up when I found her."

Supersonic | Zayn Malik | AU |Where stories live. Discover now