JAAN :: ZAYN

the friends

•zayn•

"I cannot believe you, Zayn."

"I'm sorry--"

Harry sighed, putting together a word on the Scrabble table. "Redundant. Just like your apologies."

"Harry," Zayn whined, I said--"

"Redundant!" he exclaimed, pointing to the word for emphasis, "Zayn, how in the hell did you get someone pregnant?"

"I just told you. The condom must've broke or sum'," Zayn put his next word on the table and groaned, "shit."

"Mistake," Harry read, "hmm. Suits your predicament."

"Bitch," Zayn muttered, "anyway, I think this will work out. Chi's really cool but she's so fucking scared, man. I don't want to hurt her."

"Yeah, I get it. Not really, but," Harry shrugged. His cat, Dusty, rubbed against Zayn's leg and purred. "Zayn, what are you gonna tell your parents?"

"I know, I know," Zayn dragged his hands down his face and groaned, "they hate me right now, I'm guessing, but. I have to tell them at some point."

"Usually, people don't tell they got someone knocked up until the bump starts showing," Harry informed.

"And how long is that?"

"Like...twelve weeks? Yeah, I guess. Depends."

"And how do you know that?" Zayn raised his eyebrows.

"I mean," Harry smiled lopsidedly, "my sister was pregnant at one point, Zayn. And, you know, I like to know things."

Zayn rolled his eyes, arranging his letters to form a new word. "Did you go?"

"Yeah."

"Anyway," he put down the word protozoa and smiled to himself, "goddamn, I'm good."

"You know what you're not good at?"

"What?"

"Pulling out--" Harry groaned when Zayn punched him in the stomach, "son of a--"

"What was that, Harry?" Zayn snapped, "I'm not good at what?"

"You're mad, for what?" Harry's face was red from the pain, and he hunched over the arm of the couch, "you piece of shit."

"I'm leaving," Zayn got up and grabbed his coat. He slammed the door shut and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one up and walked to his car, shutting it behind him and starting the engine.

•zayn•

"So, have you told your parents?" Chi asked.

Zayn sighed, looking at the screen where he was facetiming her. He was back at his flat, cooking a meal for himself since he was snowed in and no one delivered at this time.

"I didn't," he answered, "I just...what are they gonna think? My family isn't the most rational. The last time I had a girlfriend, my mum called her a whore because she wore my t-shirt. What are they gonna call you?"

"Whatever they want, Zayn," she shrugged, "what am I supposed to do? I'm not aborting the baby, there's no way."

"And I'm glad. But, I don't want that negativity on you at all."

"Honestly, I think you should say something and if they're not supportive, cut them off."

"It's not that easy," he replied, his eyes watering because he was cutting onions, "I have little sisters that I might not see ever again because my parents always hang them over my head. Apparently, I'm someone to look up to besides the fact I have tattoos and I don't have a practical job."