tRuTh - z.m.

6 - Zayn

March 24th, 2015

I knew it was too soon, but I really wanted to talk to her. It was only seven so I knew she'd still be up. I tapped my messages and found the text I'd sent myself earlier. As I was typing the message, I decided to call her instead.

It rung twice before her sweet voice answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, Liv, it's Zayn." I said. I didn't know where the nickname came from, probably cause I'd been thinking about her all day.

"Hey, what's up?" She said. She didn't sound as excited as I'd hoped. But maybe she was trying to play it cool, like I was.

"Nothing really, I just wanted to talk to you." I said bluntly. I wasn't sure what else to say, so I just said what I meant. "You ever need to just have someone talk to you?" I asked her.

"I know what you mean." She said. "So what do you want me to talk about?"

"You, actually. I wanna know more about you."

"Me? Wow," she laughed lightly. "What about me?"

"Like, where do you come from? I'm guessing America or Canada, by your accent."

"Yeah, I'm from America. A state called Virginia, and this little town called Mechanicsville. I wasn't born there, but it raised me."

Mechanicsville. It sounded like a country, ghost town. I couldn't see someone like her taking the move from a small town in America all the way to London.

"What made you come here?"

"I applied for a scholarship because I saw it as my only way out." She said, honestly enough. "I'm going into a field I most definitely do not want to be in because I had to get out of America."

"Why?"

She hesitated. "Zayn, this isn't really a good story. I don't know if you want to get that deep, yet."

"I don't mind if you don't." I said. "No one's story is perfect,"

"But mine is... I just don't want you to think differently of me. That's all."

For some reason that made me feel more comfortable speaking to her. She was just as worried about me as I was her. If we could both break that barrier now, we could have so much potential.

"I won't I promise."

"Okay, well, when I was 18, I dropped out of college. Then I moved out of my mom's house. Then I went to live with other family. Then I went back, then I left again and came back, then I left again then came back two more times. Then I left one last time before I moved to New York. Then I wanted to leave there too. So here I am now. Back in school and in a different country, living with my only friend in London pretty much."

"Was that exaggerated?"

"Not one bit. I moved exactly ten times."

"It must've been really bad." I said. I couldn't imagine what made her feel the need to be so fluid.

"I've moved more times than that, lived with more people, but it's been ten times since I turned 18." She said.

"So who do you live with now?" I asked.

"Her name is Trish. When we met, we were freshmen and living in a dorm. She's French so she was new here too. We just clicked and here we are, in our third year living off campus. Her parents have money so they bought her that condo. She lets me live there for free. She's never home anymore though. So it's basically my apartment. She always says that. But I haven't really changed anything outside of my own room and bathroom."