Winter Tragedy ~Sequel to Summer...Tragedy?~

Chapter Seventeen: Banned

Emma’s POV:

“What’s wrong honey?” My mom asked me coming into my room where I have been crying ever since I saw that rumor with Zayn hooking up with that blonde girl from the club. I know I shouldn’t believe it, Zayn wouldn’t go to a club during this time, but it looked so real.

“What isn’t wrong mom? My best friend who would hate me if she didn’t have amnesia, my other best friend is on tour with her loving boyfriend in depression and she has cut. And then there’s Zayn who I thought I could trust again, but no mom. I shouldn’t have put my trust in him again because he slept with someone else.” I said.

“Em, I don’t mean to sound against you, but you aren’t together, you have no control over who he sleeps with. You’re not his girlfriend anymore you know. To be honest, I think you’re just overreacting. Besides, isn’t it just rumors? They could be not true you know?” My mom said. I sighed, knowing she was right. I nodded and she went on, “So, for all we know he could have been crying over you. And Nikki and Amanda are in good hands. Amanda will remember and Nikki will get out of depression. Everything will be alright.”

I nodded and hugged my mom. I don’t know where I’d be without her right now, “Thanks mom. I love you,” I told her. She told me that she loved me, too and I pulled out of the hug, “Do you need any help with dinner? I can help?”

“Yes I do, thank you. We are having lasagna and I need help with the homemade tomato sauce. I don’t want any of that crappy store bought tomato sauce.” My mom said. I laughed and got up off my bed, my mom copying my actions.

“I love your lasagna mom. I can’t wait for dinner!” I said, smiling. She smiled back and I wiped the reminder of my tears. My mom was right; I have no control whatsoever on what Zayn does so it’s not worth crying over. He’s not worth crying over. But, I can’t help but feel like Zayn doesn’t love me anymore. Then again I had my chance and I blew it.

My mom laughed and I followed her out to the kitchen. I loved helping my mom cooking; I loved cooking in general. Although I barely do it, but when I get the chance to, I love to. I don’t get many chances because I’m horrible at cooking.

“Can I put on some music?” I asked my mom. She nodded and went to the fridge to get tomato or tomatoes while I went onto her laptop and went onto Pandora. I put on my Avril Lavigne station and Rock N Roll came on and I turned the volume up.

“Not to loud Em.” My mom said. I waved her off and went over to the center island and grabbed an onion and started to chop them into tiny pieces. I should do this for a living. Like, I’m so good at this. Chef Emma. That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

I finished chopping the onions and put the onions in the pot while my mom began with other shit that I wasn’t too sure of. Yeah so I shouldn’t be a chef because I have no idea what she is doing. Why did I agree? I wish I didn’t. I wanna sit on my bed and be lazy.

“Emma, why don’t you- “ My mom was cut off by the doorbell ringing, “go get that.” My mom finished laughing a bit. I nodded and made my way to the front door. I opened up the door and then closed it when I took one look at him, but he stopped me with his foot.

“Can we talk?” He asked. My life is not a fan fiction, why the hell does it seem that way? First we meet, than he confesses that he likes me, then I get pregnant, the baby dies, my friends are in accidents and now he has left his damn tour just to talk. For God’s sake when will it end?

“No Zayn. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. I had my chance with you, I blew it. I don’t deserve a second chance. Just go back on tour.” I said, crossing my arms to keep warm. I hate Connecticut in the winter, but technically it’s not winter.