cheap thrills :: [malik #fdc]

fifteen. luck

Mari is lucky.

Like, find money on the street, lucky. Win a vacation, lucky. Fall in love in Rio, lucky.

And it's something she's just come to acknowledge. She's that girl. She's the girl who makes connections with people in foreign places and zip-lines and kayaks and buys alcoholic drinks in market places just for the heck of it.

"That's, y'know, s'just Mari," is what her boyfriend says.

And she believes it.

She believes that she's lucky, yes, but Mari thinks that her luck is only made better -- if that was even possible -- by the people she's met over the course of her life on all of those little adventures.

And here she goes again.

"Tell Zayn I still hate him."

"You don't, but that's fine."

And now, Mari sits at the bottom of her bed, her suitcase open as she attempts to finish packing.

If Lennon would let her, that is.

"I do," Lennon mutters over the line, "His stupid friend fucked everything up."

Mari laughs aloud, readjusting her cell phone on her shoulder, "Sorry?"

"You should be, 'cause technically, if Zayn wasn't trying to see you, he wouldn't have brought Harry to L.A. to meet Bonnie."

Mari is still laughing. "Yep. You're right."

"Fuck all the sarcasm. Fuck you and all the sarcasm, Mari!"

"I'm sorry? Look, are you gonna still be salty in a few hours? 'Cause technically you are one of the only reasons I'm coming out to visit..."

"You mean, Marcello is the only reason you're coming to visit," she laughs. "Don't pretend like you're coming to see me, mama."

"Knock, knock."

And Mari looks up, smiling sheepishly as Zayn looks from her, on the floor, to her open suitcase.

"Mari, love!" He frowns. "What the fuck!? You're not packed yet?"

"Uh...Heh heh..."

"Is that Zayn? Is that your man?"

"Yeah, it is--Hey!"

Zayn slips the phone out of her fingers.

"Zayn!"

"It's Lennon?" He asks, hearing her voice on the line. "You'll see her in a few hours. Why aren't you ready?"

"Because I--"

Zayn only rolls his eyes, speaking into Mari's phone for her. "Bye, Lenn."

"Hi, Zayn."

And he hangs up the call.

"Babe."

Mari laughs. "Yes?"