Literature

rings and flings

"Harry, can I talk you?"

"Sure."

Zayn smiles sympathetically as I follow my mum into the living room.

"Are you using protection?"

I laugh at the absurdity.

"Seriously? What makes you think we're having sex?"

Her mouth forms into a tight line.

"You're a hormonal teenager."

"Please, I'm almost nineteen. I'm a legal adult."

"How old is he Harry? Be honest."

I inhale and prepare myself for a lecture.

"Twenty three."

Her brows raise as she struggles to find words.

"You have my approval. Just be smart please, keep things cordial at school. Please don't do anything that could get him or you into trouble."

"Really?"

I hug her excitedly, my heart racing.

"Can I spend the night?"

"I don't know Harry, I-"

"I'll have you know that if anything were to happen, I'm well equipped with condoms." She jumps back startled and he laughs lightly.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I just want you to know that I take good care of your son. You think I'm joking but I'm not. Besides, it isn't about that to me. Harry means more than that.

She looks away for a split second and Zayn seizes the moment by winking at me.

"Alright, you can stay the night. Make sure he does all his homework."

"Wait," he wraps his arms around her and whispers something in her ear. She looks at me, a faint smile on her face and I can't help but wonder what he said to her.

"I'm the best," he grins.

"Is she right Zayn? Are we moving too fast? Tell me what you said."

He presses a kiss to my forehead and takes my hand in his, pulling me into his room.

"It isn't like we're getting married. We're just cherishing our time together before you go off to uni."

I tug off my boots and scoot beside him on the bed, our fingers entwining.

"That's not going to happen. I'm sorry Zayn, I just can't do four more years of school."

He traces the curve of my upper lip with his finger.

"Whatever you think is best babe."

i wonder
which is
deadlier,
a gun
or my own
thoughts
the chance
to do harm,
and for
my brain
to pull
the trigger

"I'll support you no matter what. You know that right?"

I nod silently, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"I just want to make you proud."

"Harry it's your future. I just-"

"Harry," my mum peeks around the door. She looks relieved that we're just talking, our fingers laced together. "I'm going home. Zayn, thank you for the hospitality and the recipe."

"Of course. Thank you for giving me Harry."

My heart melts into liquid.

We wait until the front door closes before our conversation resumes, our words filling the air.