Small Hands (Zerrie Short Story)

Chapter 1

It was a night like any other on quiet, Rosaline Avenue in New Hope, Australia. The first cool breeze wheeled through the sky at about six o'clock when the humidity of the day was finally giving way to coolness and twilight. A mama blue bird flew into her nest before poking at the eggs of her still hatching newborns; the neighborhood cats and dogs roamed their respective backyards, enjoying the peaceful night and a sky full of stars. They weren't the only ones. Best friends Zayn and Perrie were lying on a blanket, side by side. Pizza boxes and cell phones abandoned beside them. This was their first time alone together in months since the beginning of the school year. And it was almost their last.

"I'm really happy you decided to come, Pez," Zayn whispered, afraid that to speak any louder would shatter the perfect calm.

"Me too," Perrie stated, letting her weary muscles melt into the still-warm earth, the smell of Zayn's aftershave and the grass and trees.

They took a moment to silently remember the summer they spent here, before their lives got so out of hand.

Perrie Edwards, age 17, was a senior at Lawland High School. Popular, involved in many clubs, and a part of the varsity tennis team.

Zayn Malik, age 18, also a senior at Wolhart High School. Lover of the theatre, senior tech and chief sound designer for all the school's major productions.

Such different people, yet such promise in both, promise that threatens to take them elsewhere in life. Zayn often worries about that, about how far Perrie is willing to travel for a University with a good tennis team. As far as Zayn is concerned, he never wants to leave New Hope. New Hope was quiet, beautiful, and small enough to feel homely, far enough away from the Outback that it wasn't too hot but not as crowded as it would've been living near the beach. The town felt alive in it's nature and it's people, all polite and kind, unlike a big city. It didn't have the suffocating feeling that comes with most small towns. New Hope contained 30,000 people, a burst of which came last year, including Perrie.

The reason Perrie and Zayn were so happy to be reunited was because, for a time, they didn't have time to see each other. Zayn was always in the midst of a show and Perrie was busy with her, seemingly, never-ending tennis season. But after their lives began to settle down, the universe still found a way to keep them apart in the form of a boy named Driver Zimmerman.

~

Pt. 2

Perrie met Driver through her older brother eight months from this night. He was charming and handsome, with wavy dark hair and striking blue eyes. His smile lit up a room and attracted everybody's attention. He was funny and like-able and attentive. Not that Zayn thought so, but he had eyes, he could see why girls liked him. Driver sent her the sweetest texts and never missed an anniversary. He kissed her with purpose unlike all the other boys who didn't know what they were doing. His family was wealthy and she got to go on boat cruises on their private yacht off the coast during the summer. When they were together, she felt lighter than air. That was until she found him at a party, in an unlocked bedroom, engaging in a action that he would not be proud to tell his mother. It was two thirty in the morning when Perrie called Zayn for the first time in months in hysterics. He threw on clothes, snuck out of his house and rode into the night to comfort his friend. He pulled over to the side of the house and waited for Perrie. When she finally burst out of the house, she was followed closely by Driver.

As Perrie and Driver approached, Zayn was able to hear bits and pieces of their loud and heated conversation.

"Come on, it was just a bit o' fun. It wasn't serious," Driver pleaded, voice slurred and steps sloppy.

"You're disgusting," She yelled back, dirty blonde hair flying as she whipped her head around, crystalline tears jetting down her tanned face. He caught up to her about a hundred feet away, his firm hand holding her forearm in a firm grip.

Zayn felt his legs striding faster towards the angry couple before he asked them to, anger mounting with each step he took. Driver let go, shocked by Zayn's determination and sudden appearance. The few times they met Zayn always seemed so unassuming if not indifferent. Boy was he wrong.

"Zayn, wait," Perrie pleaded, trying to catch his arm as he strode past her. Driver looked past him, unaware of the strength of the lanky boy with boxy glasses. Zayn grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pinned him against a nearby tree.

"Touch her like that again and I'll fucking kill you," He whispered, surprised by the menace in his voice.

"What's your problem?" The drunk boy mumbled, drunkenness giving way to fear.

Zayn said nothing.

"You in love with her or something?"

"Zayn!" Perrie yelled, jogging closer, but not close enough to hear this last statement.

"I'm just being protective. You don't want to see what I could do to the punk that pushes around the woman I love."

He saw the boy swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing violently up and down. His point came across.

The sound of police sirens in the distance began to reach their ears, and Zayn knew it was time to go. He let go of Drive's crumpled shirt before wrapping an arm around a shocked Perrie and walking back to his car.

"It's okay, I'll never let anything happen to you. I promise."

++++++++++++++++++++

Thank you for reading! Tell me if you like it. Updates every Monday.