Vulnerable (Zayn Malik AU)

Chapter 37

Waking up alone was hard. I remember that it hurt to have him lay there in silence the night before...but waking up to an empty bed was even worse than just being ignored. I thumped out of bed and grabbed my phone, not really willing to get up, but my bladder had other plans. The house was quiet as I walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. I was hoping upon entering the living room that I would find someone, but it was barren. No life in sight.

I took it upon myself to go into the kitchen and get some of my food. Luckily, Zayn was able to grab my favorite cereal from my dad's house. The fact that I could no longer call it my house kinda hurt...but there wasn't really anything I could do about it.

I pulled a seat up to the dining table, and set down my phone next to my cereal bowl. It wasn't until I started moving the spoon around that I realized I wasn't very hungry. I pushed the bowl forward so that I could rest my elbows onto the table, and grabbed my phone. "Six percent. Way to go, Daisy." I scorned myself for not plugging my phone in. I could very easily had just gone and grabbed my charger, but it was a good 30 steps away into Zayn's room, and I so wasn't up for that.

I decided to use my final minutes of battery to call my grandma. Any normal person probably would've called their boyfriend to ask where he was, but I felt like he didn't want to be found. He probably wouldn't have anwered anyway.

"Daisy, dear!"

"Hi, Grams." I laughed at her enthusiasm. Well...not a complete laugh. More like one of those weird laughs you do where it sounds like you're trying to get a dry booger out of your nose or something.

"How are things going since we last spoke?" She still sounded chipper, but a little more calm than when she initially answered the phone.

"Pretty much the same, I think. And, just warning you: if I hang up, it's not me. My phone's going to die."

"Oh, ok. Don't worry about it. So I've been thinking about this whole ordeal, and I think it's bullshit."

"Grandma!" Not that my ears had never heard a bad word... But my grandma didn't swear. Ever.

"Sorry. But it is. And, you're growing up, you'll have to get used to hearing some swear words."

"That may be, but not from you. I refuse."

"Well anyway, I think it's...." I could tell she was trying to sensor herself. "Bologna. It's total bologna."

"What is?"

"The whole situation. I mean I know your dad can be a...turd and all, but I thought after my daughter," my mom, "unfortunately lost her mind, that Richard would get his sh...stuff together." Her tone was growing a bit harsher. "And he just thinks it's ok to kick you out? He's your father for goodness sake! That's not what parents do! And, on top of that, you're stuck with some drug addict and he's just like 'Yeah, whatever.' about it? I don't think so. Terrible parenting skills." It was odd hearing my grandma voice her opinion. She was always one to stay impartial. 

"He's not a drug addict." I ignored the comments on my father and focused on Zayn.

"You said he sold drugs, did you not?" I did say that. I didn't say to whom, but I did tell her he sold them.

"He did, but he didn't take part in any of the smoking or anything."

"Daisy Ann. In all of my 63 years I have never met a drug dealer that doesn't try out his own product."

"Well first of all, Grams. How many drug dealers have you met? And, second, they weren't HIS product. He sold them for another guy."

"You're speaking in past tense now. Has he stopped?"