Vulnerable (Zayn Malik AU)

Chapter 36

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Daisy's POV
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"Well it was good to hear from you, baby." My grandma said, obviously trying to get off of the phone.

"I just really needed to....vent."

"I know, I know." She sighed. "And even though you're ok now, if you decide you want to move out here, all you have to do is call me."

"Yeah. Hopefully it doesn't come to that..."

"He'll come to his senses, Daisy." I didn't tell her every detail. Just the ones she needed to know - the basics. How Zayn had hurt me in a way that was beyond belief and that instead of staying and working it out... he just left.

"I hope so, Grams. If not...be expecting another call soon."

"Well I hope you do call again, just under happier circumstances." My grandma has always been the most level-headed person I know. When it comes to any sort of moral dilemma, or internal conflict in my life, I know that she's just one call away. 

"You and me both. Alright, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, dear. Love you!"

"Love you too, grandma. Have a nice night."

I let her hang up the phone first, mostly because I didn't really want to say goodbye. The fact that I wanted to talk to my grandmother so much, rather than having to face my reality, was not a good thing. I was hurt. And, to top off my pain, Zayn was off with some girl doing god knows what.

What exactly does one do when she's upset and lacking comfort? I went for food. All of my trash bags of things were in the back of Zayns room, up against his glass wall. Upon searching the bags, all I found was my clothes, and random objects that my dad stuffed into bags probably thinking it was an inconvenience. I refused to believe it was because he didn't want me coming back.

In my search, I didn't find the food Zayn told me he grabbed. But, I remembered he said it was in the trunk. I wasn't hopeful as I reached the garage, because I'd figured Zayn had taken the car. When I turned on the light, I was welcomed by the familiar black beauty. I turned to go get Zayns keys off of the hook, but knew there was no way he'd leave them. So I turned and prayed that he didn't lock the car. Per usual, it was open. There wasn't really a point in locking your car when you lived in the woods. Even a little rock hitting the garage door would be heard throughout the house, let alone someone breaking in.

I opened the passenger-side door and hit the unlock button so that I could open the trunk. Upon opening, I was greeted by nothing. It was empty.

When I got back inside the house, I was at a loss. I didn't want to eat any of Trisha's food. I knew she would tell me to, but knowing that she was struggling with money gave me a different outlook on things. Zayn wouldn't throw away my food would he? I doubted he could be so bitter, but when running off of an empty stomach, your mind begins lose itself.

As I leaned onto the island separating the kitchen from the living room, I surveyed the area. Not for anything in particular. But, as I did, I saw my xbox plugged into the flatscreen - something else Zayn said was in the trunk. I hurried to the fridge to see if maybe he'd put all of my food away like he did my video games. Inside the fridge that was only half-full that morning, I was able to see all of my juices, sports drinks, yogurts, and cheeses. Inside the cupboards I found all of my snack foods and cup-o-noodles. And, in the freezer, I found all of my microwavable dinners.

Trying not to jump for joy, I grabbed a box of crackers and some cheese, preparing something small enough to shut up my stomach. By the time I'd finally taken a seat at the dining table, the garage door opened. My heart began to race at the idea of it being Zayn. If it was him, he would've only been gone for thirty minutes - tops. The large metal door shut before I'd realized the person who'd just come into the garage wasn't loud enough. Zayn was on his bike, meaning he would've been much louder than Trish and her Subaru. It was all slowly starting to make sense as to why Zayns car was much nicer than his mothers - not to mention the fact that he had two modes of transportation.