Soft Spot (Zayn Malik)

XXVII

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Serious

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It has been two days after I somehow ended up at Rover Way, in Harry's house, to plan his surprsie party for Jaimie, which I'm still sure is a part of his plan to swoon her and get her in his room. But if it wasn't for that, Zayn and I wouldn't make up two days ago.

"Yeah, I'm driving, I'll call you back later." I said, trapping my phone in between my ears and my shoulder.

"Okay, drive safe." Aeanne said through the other line.

I just nodded, forgetting the fact that she couldn't see me. When I hunged up, I threw my phone somewhere I could care less about and kept on driving.

I borrowed Nash's car for the day, since he didn't work and I had a place to be. I was currently headed to Vine Avenue, where Zayn lives, because we figured that we needed to hang out and he couldn't live his house because his car wouldn't cooperate with him and Gaston was nowhere to be found.

I made a way on Hedge Road and glanced at the note on the dashboard. Stay or not? I shook my head, sighing heavily. I guess Nash still hasn't decided whether to stay with Jade or not, huh? What if he needed to pick her up somewhere and she sees the note? What would his excuse be?

Besides that note was a tiny piece of Post-It with my handwriting using a sparkling purple pen: 505 Bedford Dr, Vine Avenue, Rosewood. Zayn's address. I gulped silently to myself, glaring intently at the note until the stoplight turned green again.

All day, I've been hesitating whether or not I should go to Zayn or wait until his car's fixed and we could go somewhere public. Would we be alone in his house? If not, does that mean I'm going to meet his parents? All these thoughts ran through my head and it terrified me. Wouldn't meeting his parents now rushing things? We haven't even been going out for a week, and we almost broke up two days ago.

I turned to Vine Avenue and two stoplights later, I could see the crest community, the home of the wealthiest people in Rosewood. The grasses where the greenest I've seen and every bush was filled with orchids and hibiscuses and roses. The homes were almost as big as mansions and on their driveways were expensive cars that you wouldn't see in the "normal" area of the city, ranging from Ferreros to Jaguars. It made me wonder why the rest of the jock army didn't live here, considering the fact that they were just as rich as Zayn.

I suddenly felt the urge to turn back and call Zayn with the pathetic excuse of "My brother didn't let me borrow his cheap ass car", scared that people would look at me weird that I'm driving a slow, cheap Toyota and everybody else owned an expensive as shit cars.

Past Crescent Way was Bedford Drive and I turned right, where the five-hundred numbers were. My eyes quickly searched for Zayn's house and there was a confusing fluttering in my heart when I saw the number five-hundred five. I sighed to myself and pulled up on the brick fence that protected his home, completely amused that he was living here, this mansion-looking crest.

I had expected to see the gates close, but they weren't, and before I could even think about it, I just walked in. At the top of the hill and near their driveway was a blooming apple tree and at the center of the cul-de-sac crest mansion was a statue surrounded by rose bushes and pink flowers and a stone border. A set of shrubs had been planted under the right window and on the left were blooming shrubs of hyacinths. There were planters in front of the door with happy little marigolds dancing in the breeze and when my eyes drifted to the right, I saw a a row of evergreens that shrouded the view of a court - with a state of a soccer goalie with handmade bleachers, scoreboard, and a handpainted sign that says MALIK'S ARENA.