Remembering Sunday [Zayn Malik Short Story]

(Based off the song Remembering Sunday by All Time Low)

Zayn arose from the bed, the brown haired girl no where to be seen. He slipped on his shoes and lazily ran a hand through his hair. What happened last night? He distinctly remembered coming up here with a girl, was he just hallucinating?

He looked around, noticing that the other side of the bed was neatly made. It was not neatly made yesterday morning when he woke up. He rarely ever made his bed. Something was different. He had definitely came up here with the girl, but where was she now? He can't remember much about last night, all he knows is that they came up here and he climbed into bed, falling asleep shortly after that, with his arm wrapped around her waist. She talked to him like she was in love, telling him stories to get him to fall into a deep sleep.

He sat down on the bed, struggling to remember. She had brown hair, brown eyes and a constant smirk on her lips. Downright beautiful. What was her name? He held his head in his hands, struggling to remember this girls name.

It wasn't an ordinary name, that's for sure. It was a name that you hear once and probably never again. He pulled at the ends of his hair, sighing frustratedly. He checked his phone, nothing but a few texts from the boys, asking where he was. He ignored them, and continued to search his mind for this mystery girls name.

He stood up and paced around the room. He knew it started with and H. Heather, no. Harper, no.

He thought of every possible name starting with an H, coming up with nothing. He leaned on his arms onto the dresser, suddenly standing up as if he had just discovered the cure for cancer.

Hadley, her name was Hadley.

****

Hadley Parker rushed around her apartment, packing her bags. She stuffed all her clothes into one suitcase, having trouble trying to zip it up. Angry tears poured down her face. Why was she crying? She had no reason to be crying. Yes you do, her mind told her. She ignored it and continued to pack her bags. The bright morning peeked through her curtains, reminding her of last night.

Her chest ached for the boy with the dark hair. How could she have been so stupid to go home with him from that party? To pretend she was intoxicated? To pretty much give her heart to him? She wasn't in love, love didn't exist and she had just met him. It feels like she's known him for years, they way they talked to each other was so surreal. She never knew that anyone could care for her.

She shouldn't have gone to that party in the first place. Who goes to a party on a Sunday anyway? Obviously Zayn does. Just thinking of his name made tears form in her eyes again. She was an emotional wreck, to put it bluntly. All she had planned to do was make a small appearance at the party, say hi to a few people, and then head home. Instead, she stayed for much longer and now she's packing her bags, hoping to get out of town before he remembers anything about Sunday.

He probably doesn't even remember me, she hoped to herself. He was so drunk, there's no way. For some reason she too, pretended like she was drunk last night. She doesn't know why, she acted like she was drunk and overtly much told her whole life story to the boy with the tattoos. She ran a hand through her hair, what had gotten into her last night? That was so unlike anything she had ever done. If her mum ever found out, she would be dead on the spot.