Good Girl

eight

"Sooo, Zayynn," Doniya looked smug as she slid into the booth opposite me, "you've got a girlfriend?"

"Wait, you mean Mom hasn't given you the week-long monologue of how great it is?" I sighed, swirling the straw in my drink. We had come to some burger place we'd never tried before, and I was hoping it was one of those secretly wonderful restaurants because the place looked like a total dump.

"No, Wal told me, actually."

"Ew."

"You dick." She smiled, subconciously ripping some fabric off of the peeling booth. 

"I'm surprised you didn't know yet. The news has been spreading like, I don't know, peanut butter." I mumbled.

"So it's been going smoothly?" She shot me a questioning look. "People take it well? Peanut butter is pretty smooth."

"Oh, God no. It's been spreading like crunchy peanut butter. Very unsmooth. Lots of people hate it." I explained. Amanda Spitzfer and Peter Parker or whoever the fuck Dylan heard from had no problem telling everyone they knew.

"So you're comparing your first relationship to peanut butter?" She grinned, sipping her water.

"This is totally not my first. And I thought it was a metaphor or something, I don't know!" I protested.

"It's supposed to be 'spread like wildfire'. And it's a simile. Have fun being an english teacher."

"You dick."

_____________________________________________________________________________

"Zayn," Teresa said, swirling a deflated beach ball in her hands.

"Hmm?" I muttered, lying flat on my back.

"Have you- have you ever gone to jail?"

I shot right up. "Teresa, you were at school in tenth grade, right?"

"No, I spent the year in Germany," she explained, sounding cautious, "I was in Germany with my grandparents from, like, December to summer."

"Fuck," I ran a hand through my hair, which I hadn't bothered doing that day, and ignored Teresa's wince. "Fuck! That's why you don't know about Dylan, right?"

"What are you talking about? Just tell me!"

"No! I can't! I-well, you'll fuckin hate me!" I yelled, breathing hard. Last year's drama had cost me every friend I had save for Dylan, the only one I had wanted to lose. "Some other time, maybe. I dunno."

"It's always some oher time!" Teresa cried, "When will you sing for me, huh? When will it 'be time?'"

I sighed, not sure how I felt. I was angry at Teresa for pressuring me, even more angry at myself for the whole damn thing, confused about what to say, conflicted between leaving or causing a scene or just explaining myself, and completely disappointed that I had let any of it happen.

And eventually (after a full frustrating minute), I decided to stop allowing myself to think. Instead of bolting or yelling or lying or doing anything my usual shut-out asshole self would normally do,  I sang.

You're the type of woman, deserves good things

Fistfuls of diamonds, handfuls of rings

Baby you're a star, I just wanna show you, you are.

You should let me love you

I just kept singing until the second verse, when I saw a tear rolling down her flushed cheek. I took my thumb and placed it on her jaw, catching the tear and slowly wiping it toward her ear, then down her jawline and off her porcelain face.

"Alright Zayn, there's a lot I'm angry at right now and...and," she let out a sob, "thanks for not sucking. A lot, I mean it. And we've only been dating for five months and I'm in the dark about almost everything and thanks for making me, I don't know, light?" We laughed, because we both knew how fucking hard it was to speak to each other yet how simple it was. Around Teresa, I still was constantly sputtering and using dumb metaphors and she did the same; yet we always understood.

Teresa was a silent crier; she never heaved or choked or made weird faces. She cried exactly like in the movies, all smeared mascara and drops floating down her sunken cheeks in neat, single file lines.

"And we probably aren't in love cuz that's weird and I don't know but I just really love you right now. Like at the moment, I love you."

The next month was a lot of crying and holding and singing and I love you right nows.

A/N hope you werent expecting a long chapter ha bITCHEZ

 theyre so cute man idec how shitty a chapter is zeresa is in my dreams

lol teresa you fucking barbie i love you

okay so I really like authors notes its like half the fun of a chapter so I might start a new book thats literally one big authors note? like itll just be a bunch of weird shit about me cuz ima self centered ass yey lets do it maybe tell meh watcha want

tell meh watcha need

a lil bit of sugar (a lil bit of butter)

ITS THE PERFECT RECIPE

okay sorry impromptu hsm jam time on that note xx af