Just A Phone Call Away (Zayn Malik fanfic)

Waiting

Bridget

After finishing my pizza I helped Mom pick up the kitchen and returned to my room. I can't stop thinking about Zayn, about talking to him. I, Bridget Stone, spoke to Zayn Malik. Holy shit. I've been trying to keep all the feels and fan girl moments controlled, but its so hard. I mean, this guy is the picture of perfection for God's sake!

And for some reason, it seems like he wants to talk to me. I've never been happier. But with any guy situation comes the self doubt. I've never really liked my appearance. Everyone says I'm pretty and all that but I feel like they're just trying to be nice. Maybe that's what Zayn is doing... He probably feels sorry for me.

But still, I keep imagining all the cute dates we could go on and all the fun we would have and it just makes me want to squeal. I am such a dork.

I dug through my pile of CD's and took out the Take Me Home CD and popped it into my stereo. Zayn's solos make my heart hurt.

After about three hours of obsessively checking my phone for texts and ignoring any that aren't from Zayn, I grew a little weary waiting for him. I guess I shouldn't expect him to text me all the time. Maybe it was just a one time deal. He's probably busy with his own life.

I imagined dozens of impossible scenarios in my head about him, me. Us on dates, Zayn meeting my family and friends. Everyone would be so surprised. It would be amazing. I need to stop being so dorky now...

Even though it wasn't very late, I fell asleep last night during my thoughts. Sometimes I just get this overwhelming feeling of sadness when I think too much. I think of perfect scenarios and then I think about how impossible they are, or how awkward I would make things. Nothing will ever happen like I imagine it to so I need to stop dreaming that it will... Someone like Zayn will never fall for someone like me. I'm just a fan in his eyes and that's all I'll ever be. I realize this as I check my phone and see no new texts from Zayn. He could have any gorgeous supermodel or actress out there, never in a million years would he pick me.

I picked up some clothes from my closet and went to the bathroom across the hall to take a quick shower.

When I was out of the shower I got dressed and applied some tinted moisturizer and mascara. I have to go to work today but I don't feel like dressing up or anything.

I clawed through the clothes in my closet till I found my maroon tee shirt with the Margaret's Coffeehouse logo on it and pulled on some black skinny jeans and my gray Vans.

I slipped my phone in my purse and stepped downstairs.

I sat down at the kitchen table next to my brother and poured a bowl of corn flakes. My parents were already gone to work and my brother would be leaving to his friend's house soon. I let out a yawn and finished my last spoonful of cornflakes before setting my bowl and spoon next to the sink. I said goodbye to my brother before grabbing my keys and stepping out the door. I listened to the radio on the way to work and changed the channel about every other song, annoyed with the repetitive lyrics of meaningless modern pop songs. I listen to mostly punk rock and classics like Nirvana, Ramones, Guns n Roses and Green Day, but One Direction is an exception as I can't resist them.

I pulled into the parking lot of Margaret's Coffeehouse and stepped inside. Jen, one of the waitresses I work with, said hello and I gave her a smile before going to my table in the corner of the dining area. There were three preppy looking girls I recognized from school sitting in one of the tables I usually handle. I took a tray of lattes topped with fluffy whipped cream that Margaret had handed me and walked over to their table. "One pumpkin spice latte and two vanilla frappes!" I said, setting the coffee down on the table. "Thank you." Muttered the blonde one. I smiled and returned to the kitchen to grab another order for table nine. There was an elderly man sitting alone reading one of the books on the shelves around the walls. This coffee shop is really a unique place. There are books lining the walls for customers to read or borrow, so long as they return them within a week. It gives off a warm cozy feeling and makes me not mind working here so much.

I set a caramel roll and a mug of dark coffee next to the man. "Here you go. If you need anything else, just ask me," I smiled and walked away. It makes me sad to see old people eating alone. Makes me wonder if he's been alone his whole life or if he had a wife who passed away.

Later I cleared off all the tabes and wiped up the various crumbs and spills and saw that the old man was still sitting at his table reading a book. I walked over to grab the mug and plate from his order after be was finished and he just smiled at me in a strange way. The way he stared as I wiped the table was a little unsettling actually. He cleared his throat and began to speak. "You know," he started, "you're a very beautiful you g girl. And polite too. It's nice to see someone your age being so kind and caring over their job." I smiled awkwardly, "thank you, I'm only doing my job." I started to walk off. "Well you're certainly a lot nicer than Beatrice, she always gives me dirty looks. Haven't done a thing to that woman." I laughed a little. "Oh she's just a bit cranky, don't take it personally. " I said. The man chuckled, "I'm Abe. Who might you be?" I pointed to my name tag. "Ah, I see. Bridget. Nice name for a nice young girl like yourself. " I muttered a thank you. My shift was almost over for the day and I have to say I was a little creeped out by this elderly attention. He's been here a long time.

As I was in the kitchen mixing up the last espresso I would make for today, I saw Abe tip his newsboy cap down slightly and mouth a goodbye. I waved a little, relieved he was gone.

After serving one last customer and wiping down two more tables I said goodbye to some coworkers and headed home.

I realize that life is too short to spend it worrying, to not do the things you want because you're afraid of what people might think, or what might go wrong. That we should take chances because we only have this life to live and me might as well make the best of it. Basically saying YOLO without sounding stupid.

That being thought, I decided I would just call Zayn again. And if he doesn't want to talk, whatever. I got to talk to him a couple times and it was amazing, so if it doesn't work out at least I'll have the memories. I grabbed my iPhone and found his number, which I had already put into my contacts. I pressed call and hoped for the best... Five rings later, he answered. "Hello, sorry but I'm a bit busy at the moment." He said. My heart sunk a little. "Oh that's okay", I said, "I shouldn't have called you, my bad. I'm sure you have things to do and umm, bye." I heard some mumbled voices and a sound like might have dropped his phone. He said a short goodbye and hung up. I really need to start thinking about these things before I call... What was he doing? It could be anything.

 I decided I would text Ryan and maybe hang out with him tonight. I haven't really talked to any of my friends since the sleepover, I just don't feel too happy with the way they reacted to me and this Zayn situation. I texted Ryan, "Hey you wanna hang out tonight?" A few moments later, my phone buzzed with his reply. "yeah sure. meet at usual spot? :)" I told him yes and went outside. I started walking down the sidewalk towrds the park. I coud drive, but we would always walk here as kids. It's not a long way.