The Clique

Part 9

This is the part where the boy and girl have a much awaited for confrontation.

It had been two months. Two months since she had been to the club. Two months since she had had a reasonable conversation with her friends that didn't turn into an argument. Two months since she had seen him. 

And she was beyond gone. 

***

"I know I've told you a million times, Zayn. I'm worried about her. I don't know if I've ever been this worried about someone in my entire life," Cara whispered harshly into the phone, hoping the girl in question wasn't able to hear her. "She's not eating nor sleeping. She only comes out of her room to go buy more alcohol or piss. I'm scared."

"He's not much better over here, Cazza," Zayn reassured. "But I think he's trying to act strong for both of us. He's never liked having to depend on anybody. He doesn't like feeling weak."

"Well, neither does she," she commented. "I think that's their problem. They both  are worried about getting too attached. "

"It's too late for that, babe. Way too late."

***

"Hey baby," a smoky drawl came from the other end of the line. "How're you?"

"I'm brilliant," her voice croaked. She hadn't used it in days. "How are you able to call me?"

"Well that's just the thing. The big P say that since I've been a good boy, I get to invite ya over for a conji."

"A-" she cleared her throat. "A conji? Are you making this up?" She curled her knees up more to her chest. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and tried to make sense of all this nonsense. 

"Why would I ever joke about fucking you into oblivion? C'mon Triple E, I know you miss me," she could hear him smirk through the phone. She got goosebumps from his words. One thing she did miss about Sam was his ability to ruin her beyond repair. 

"How long will it be for?" she ran her fingers through her hair as thoughts raced through her mind. She leaned back in her chair and rested her chin on her knees.

"For the weekend. "

Okay, two days. Today was Friday. She could go missing for two days. She couldn't possibly tell the others where she was going. All those late night trips to the "grocery store" were actually trips downtown to see the man who was now telling her that they had been approved for a fucking conjugal visit. 

"Maybe we could beat our record," she said coyly. "What was it? Six hours?"

"Let's aim for twenty four," he rasped. "Hey, don't  tease over the phone. I have no privacy here. "

She shivered at the thought of what he was most likely doing on the other end of the phone. "Wait for me," she whispered. "I'll be there later."