When Worlds Collide - A Zayn Malik Fanfic

25; Break ups, phone calls, and awkward chats

***Hi everyone! I wanted to get another update in before my birthday tomorrow (: So I hope you all enjoy it and keep voting and commenting etc because it means the world to me! Thank you all so much for reading this and actually liking it haha (: xx***

Zayn

 

"So, how was your weekend?" Brittany glances over at me from behind her nails, which she sits filing. The way she asked it didn't sound like a normal way of asking someone how their weekend was, and I can almost feel the iciness of her voice from my spot on the bed.

"Fine," I reply shortly. "Yours?"

She shrugs. "Fine."

I go back to looking out the window. Brittany came over to my dorm about twenty minutes ago and we had spent a decent amount of time with our lips glued together, but not even we can do that forever. But the only thing is, there is literally nothing else to do with each other besides making out. Brittany's been sitting on Niall's bed, and I on mine. And there's been the most awkward silence since. It's not like we're actually in a relationship, but everything's still uncomfortable. If I read, now should be the time I would, but somehow doing anything but staring out the window seems wrong and almost disrespectful.

"Except it wasn't, was it?" Brittany snaps.

I turn to her. "What?"

She sits up straight, her nail file in her hand. "Oh, don't play dumb with me, Zayn. I know what happened Saturday night."

I furrow my eyebrows. How did she find out? "You mean, nothing?"

She gives me a cold glare behind her kohl layered eyes. "I mean you and that loser Violet. Ringing any bells now?"

"How did you-"

"I saw you two come in together Sunday mornin'," she says. "You think I'm stupid or something? Stupid to not realise you both missing the entire Saturday and then showing up Sunday? Together."

"Britt," I say lightly. "Just calm down, alright?"

She stands up from the bed. "Don't tell me to calm down!" She shrieks, making me wince. "What the fuck happened that night, Zayn?"

I stand up, too, to try and level with her. She's making a huge deal out of nothing. Just as I was trying to forget all about Saturday night, it's brought up again. "Literally nothing," I tell her again. "Come on, you don't want to be this girl."

Her eyebrows raise, and I know I've said completely the wrong thing. "What kind of girl is that, Zayn?"

The way she says my name reminds me of my mother - that same damn condescending tone. I feel like I'm in trouble; no, I definitely know I'm in trouble.

"Shit, wrong thing to say. I-uh, look, what do you want me to say?" I try and grab her hands and she jerks them away.