Rogue (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 4: Time of my life

"Surprise."

Oh. My. God.

Ellie and Niall couldn't have done this.

But apparently there weren't no other plausible culprits.

"Happy birthday, Anya."

In the moment that the lights in the vast room of the supposedly high class banquet hall that we were in, turned on and people ran out of their hiding spots towards me to squeeze me with their loveable hugs, my senses turned a little slow. It was a good whole minute that I used up to analyse that I indeed was standing right in the middle of my own surprise birthday party; something I had never had before.

"Goodness gracious. A party? So many people?"

It wasn't a complaint. It definitely wasn't but in the haste of the too-many-feelings-at-the-same-time, I had no idea what was leaving my mouth--whether it was rude or polite, I simply didn't know.

"You're welcome." Niall mouthed over the shrieks of people who were now handing me bouquets and a few wrapped gifts and I was beginning to sweat a little. Everyone I knew, everyone I ever associated with in my life was here--on my twenty first birthday bash. No you don't get it. Literally everyone I knew dwelled in the room right now and had my school therapist, who's sessions I had to take after my little spat with a girl in high school who apparently broke her leg when I pushed her, would say 'and how does that make you feel?' Well, nauseated if not anything else. Also, in my defence that girl clearly needed to mind her own business and not care about me hooking up with my boyfriend in my own front yard, seriously. But right at the moment, I was nervous. I mean what was I supposed to speak about with the girl I puked over when I had to give a power point presentation in front of an audience of fifty people. In my defence again, I had an anxiety attack then.

Or what was I supposed to say when the girl I worked at a video store, the summer I graduated high school, asked me about how I have been this while.

At a time like this I thought at least my body would stand with me but no, when has it ever? My head was spinning and even with a room filled with people who were strangers in no way, I felt lonely.

"Who would've thought we'd meet again like this." A curly brown haired guy walked towards me after shouting over the crowd. Oh no, spotted! I couldn't run because that would be stupid--running from my own party. I couldn't even gaze the other way to pretend I didn't see him coming because he saw me looking his way. He stood just about a few feet from me now and with those super long legs of his, he was up close and hugging me tight exactly two seconds later. I'm doomed.

"Harry? True dat." My mouth dropped open and my eyes lit up with excitement that I had learned to fake over the years that he and I spent away. Little summary? Harry Styles, childhood romance. Split up when he moved away to London with his family when his mother got married to a man with a renowned business in the said city. We were fourteen.

"True dat? Somebody's gotten a lot more street from the time I remember. Huh?" He grinned.

I giggled. It was like time slowing down a little and my brain dying some more.

"Maybe. But shut up. Look at you. All buff and tall." Eight years later and we still are the mindless teens we once were. Something's possibly don't change.

"Well," he answered back shyly. "Just a way to impress the ladies."

I need some alcohol pumping in my system to keep me standing straight in my spot and to keep my mouth racing without my mind helping it.

"Good for you." I snatched a glass off the hurrying waiter but to my surprise, it turned out to be champagne or sparkling wine. Well, it's better than nothing. "And I might need two of these." I snatched another glass off the man serving the guests.