Buses & Bunk Beds (Zarry)

Chapter 12

I couldn't process what I was seeing. I didn't know if it was the shots or the weed, but this couldn't actually be fucking happening. But then I heard Perrie laughing from behind me and I knew that this was real. I felt an overwhelming desire to punch something, anything. I had to get out of there before my head exploded or I murdered someone. Preferably Harry. Or that slut Cara. Or that bitch Perrie. Hell, all three of them could catch fire and I would gladly watch them burn.

I knew that I was overreacting but anger was coursing through my body and all I could focus on was getting as far away from them as possible. I had to get away before the anger turned to hurt. I turned on my heel and strode out the door without looking back. I picked up my pace when I heard Harry shout my name, and I didn't slow down until I had pushed my way through the crowd and out the door.

A line of photographers was waiting outside. They began taking pictures and shouting questions at me, but I could barely see them. The image of Cara on Harry's lap, one of his hands on her waist and his lips pressed against her mouth was the only thing I could see. And the way that he was staring at me while he kissed her might have been what pissed me off the most. It was like he was doing it just to spite me. Like he'd intentionally wanted to hurt me.

I looked around for a cab and luckily one was coming down the street. I hailed it and stumbled into the back seat, tossing several bills at the driver. "Just like, drive around or something. I'm not sure where I'm going yet."

I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. Some of my anger had started to dissipate and I could feel the pain starting to creep in. Why did this hurt so bad? I had seen Harry kiss plenty of girls before, and it had never bothered me. Not really. Well, not nearly this much at least.

I was almost positive that he'd kissed her to hurt me and not because he actually wanted to kiss her. Right? Fuck, this was so confusing. I wished that we had defined our relationship so that I could feel more justified in my anger. So that I could know if I even had a reason to be pissed off. Actually no, that was bullshit. There was definitely something going on between Harry and me. He knew it and I knew it, and he should have known that I would never be hooking up with Perrie and him at the same time. He should have known that I would never hurt him like that.

These thoughts and conflicting emotions were relentless and I was suddenly exhausted. I gave the cabbie Harry's address, wanting nothing more than to lock myself in the guest room, smoke weed until I didn't give a fuck about anything anymore, and fall asleep. Harry might not even know I was there if I made it to the house before him, and I would leave first thing in the morning, check into a hotel and figure out my next move from there.

We pulled up to Harry's a few minutes later, and I couldn't tell if he was home or not. I paid the driver and entered the pass code to enter the house, grateful that he had given it to me earlier. I opened the door as quietly as I could, hoping that if Harry was home that he was sleeping and I could slip in unnoticed.

I should have known that I wouldn't be that lucky. Harry was sitting on the stairway with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. The sight of him caused all of my anger to come rushing back, and I slammed the door shut and balled my hands into fists.

His head shot up at the noise. "Zayn, I'm so, so sorry."

The sound of his voice made my heart hurt, and I made myself picture him kissing Cara, needing to focus on my anger before I totally broke down. The thought of her tongue in his mouth made me feel sick, but it was the realization that he might have been turned on by her that pushed me over the edge. I crossed the room in two long strides and grabbed him around the collar of his shirt, yanking him up and tossing him against the wall.