Half a Heart

Chapter Eight

That stupid waitress came back and forth between our table and the rest many times as we were eating, to "check up on us" and "make sure everything was going okay". I tried my best to ignore her, focusing instead on my absolutely delicious salmon plate.

The atmosphere wasn't tense, it was relaxed and it made me feel so warm inside seeing Zayn enjoy himself and knowing that it was at least partially because he was around me. Knowing that I could make him happy was the best feeling in the world, and as I gazed subtly at him throughout, it was a feeling I hoped I would be able to have for a lifetime.

We split the bill, as we always did. In the beginning, we always used to bicker over who should pay it, because we both wanted to. But eventually, we learned to compromise and save the arguments.

By the time we emerged from the dim restaurant, blinking in the daylight, it was already past three.

"Do you wanna head home? The girls should be home from school by now," Zayn asked, comically patting his stomach.

"Yeah, sure," I turned a slow circle, trying to recall where the motorcycle was parked.

Zayn pointed through a tunnel of little shops leading out of Bayside. "I think it's out that way, yeah?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I giggled, looping my free arm through his and shifting my shopping bags onto my other arm. We walked past a florists' and a sweet shop before Zayn stopped and turned, practically gluing himself to the window of the next shop.

"Oh my gosh, Brooke, look how cute!" I looked at him with a weird expression, laughing.

Bad boy? Yeah, right.

He looked so gleeful, I just had to go closer and see what he was looking at through the window. So I slid up right beside him, probably looking like two kids staring at a cake in the window of a candy shop.

Staring me back in the face was possibly the cutest ferret I had ever seen.

"Oh my gosh," I said, scooting up alongside him, wide-eyed at the fluffy striped creature in front of me.

It had wide black rings around a sleek white body, and was clambering up against the glass towards Zayn and I, completely disregarding the two or three other ferrets behind him.

"That's probably the second cutest thing I've ever seen," I remarked, pressing my hand against the window as it tried to furrow towards me.

"And the first?" Zayn asked, arching his eyebrow and cocking his head at me.

I slipped his fingers into mine, sliding closer to him until our hips touched. "Is that even a question?" I whispered.

Zayn grinned, pressing a kiss to my forehead and turning slightly adjacent to the window.

"No, the question is," he began, his eyes eagerly meeting mine as he leaned on the wall next to us, "Can we get it?"

°°°

And that's how we ended up back at Zayn's house with a box of wriggling black and white fun.

When we opened the door, Safaa and Waliyha were already on the couch, watching Hunger Games. Specifically, the part where Cato was about to carve into Katniss's face.

I preferred the book, to be honest.

As soon as Zayn shut the door and set the box down on the kitchen counter, the girls practically teleported there in a mass of croons and giggles.

I brought in the food and the cage, as well as treats and toys. It was as if we had gotten a baby, geez.

After everything was all set up, we arranged a circle on the living room floor and let the ferret scamper between us.

Zayn wiggled his socked toes, pulling up his feet underneath him as he propped his arms behind his shoulders on the carpet.

"What do we name it?" I asked, gently rubbing the ferret's soft furry ears.

Waliyha glanced up at the television screen, still frozen on Cato's grimacing face-- Safaa's gaze soon followed.

"I know, I know!" she almost shrieked, and lowered her voice as they both exclaimed,

"How about Cato??" the girls squealed.

I liked that.