Fix You (Sequel to The Arts)

Chapter 28

Zayn's POV

"Any better?" Harry asks me, handing me an iced coffee and taking the seat across from me.

"My head still kills," I rub the back of head, scratching the little hair I have. "But I'll survive." I take a sip of my drink, watching Harry as he props his legs up on his coffee table.

He goes to flip through shows on Netflix on the big screen TV in his living room. I let my eyes wander around the room. The house was silent. His mom was in the study reading, his sister, Gemma, upstairs in her room probably studying.

I found it funny how different Harry was to the other three of us. He seems like an odd one out but fits so perfectly. It's weird. We never hung out at my old place, my dad's, because I was too embarrassed and afraid if I'm honest. Dinah's place was too loud to hear literally anything with ten kids running around at once, and Camila's... well Sofi's not much of a quiet kid.

Though, she hasn't really talked much since her mom passed.

I try not to let my mind wander too far as I take another sip of coffee, studying Harry's disposition.

He was always a hard one to read. He was always cheery, never had much turmoil; that he let show anyway. I'm just wondering why he's not drilling me with questions after he found me stumbling drunk out of my dad's house with just a sweater in the midst of December.

"You know, Gemma and I know and re-created this routine so many times," he chuckles, pointing towards the TV with his remote. He settled on watching Friends, the episode where Ross and Monica are dancers for Dick Clark's New Year's Eve Show.

"That's not that surprising if I'm honest," I tease him.

He shakes his head at the entertaining memory and tosses the remote aside. He leans back in the love seat, tucking his hands behind his head, however, instead of directing his attention towards the show, he looks to me with expecting eyes.

"What's up, kiddo?" he asks.

"You know I'm older than you," I remind him. He just laughs to himself and I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing, just..." he smiles. "You and Camila do that thing where you crack a joke or something to ease the tension."

"You really just mention her name, not wondering if reminding me of her is going to make me break?"

He keeps smiling at me and I grow more confused. We've been broken up for what? Two days? And he's already trying to make jokes? Acting as if it's been something in the far past?

"Don't look at me like that," he pouts. I avert my eyes to the drink sitting in my lap. "You and I both know we're going to have to talk about the past two, three days. Her name is bound to get mentioned."

I look back up at him. He's still smiling and it just pisses me off at how right he is at everything. I twist my mouth to the side, trying to hold in my pride.

The last two days have been rough and could not have dragged on longer. My head hasn't really been on straight after my argument with Camila. I stormed out of the house without saying anything. Dinah and Harry called after me but I couldn't bear to stay in that house any longer. I didn't even grab my coat as I marched into the freezing cold.

My first thought was to the plaza at the head of the neighborhood. From there I stocked up on whatever junk food and drinks my pocket money could get me and sat in the corner at the little 7/11 for a while, sipping on cheaply made coffee. I cried, a lot. Thankfully no one was there aside from the workers and the occasional teenagers satisfying their case of the munchies.