The One Night Stand (Zayn Malik Fan Fiction)

Chapter Six - A Right To Know

Hey guys, I'm making Sunday my official fan-fic day. I will upload a new chapter every Sunday! Exciting, I know! So here is the chapter for this week, tell me if you like it in the comments, and please vote it means so much!

Also it would be great if you could share my fan-fics with your friends. I would love to have more readers and fans! 

- Taylor x

I stare into Ashley’s wide eyes; her mouth is hung low. My hands are firm on my tummy, never wanting to leave. I finally told someone, relief washed over me as soon as I said 'I'm pregnant'. I would smile if Ashley didn't look so worried and shocked.

"Well...." Ashley finally spoke. "This would explain a lot. The morning sickness, the mood swings and the amount you ate just a few seconds ago." I tuck a lose strand of my brown hair behind my ear.

"Is umm... is Zayn the father?" She asks, curious. I nod. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. He is the only guy I've been with." It is easier than I expected to tell Ashley all this. She didn't seem disappointed or angry. I didn't think through how she would react, but she seems sorry and supportive.

Suddenly a smile appears across her face, and she starts to squeal. "Oh my god! You're going to have a baby!" She pulls me into a hug. She is more excited about this than I am. I hug her back and put a small smile on my face.

"Oh my gosh, I'm going to be an aunt!" Ashley says, pulling away. She's not my sister, but we are close enough that I would have my children call her 'aunt'.

I give her another smile.

"Why aren't you excited?" She asks.

I look her in the eye when I respond. "I just never imagined being pregnant at the age of nineteen, and for Zayn to be the father!" I sigh and sit on the closed lid of the toilet. "I want to travel the world Ashley, and I can't do that with a baby."

"So what are you going to do?" She asks, sitting on the bath.

"I don't know." I look at her and a silent tear leaves my eye. "I don't know." 

There is silences for a while. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, knotting my fingers together. A tear leaves my eye and splashes on the tiled floor. After what feels like ages, Ashley speeks.

"You have to talk to Zayn." My eyes go wide and I look over at her. Before I could speak, Ashley did again. "I'm serious! He has a right to know, and you can't do this by yourself."

Ashley rushed out of the bathroom, I was quick to follow her. She was in the living room, holding a phone. She held it out to me when I'm close enough to her.

"Call him." She demands. I don't grab the phone, I just stare at her, biting my lip.

"I can't tell him." I can't. I was only just able to tell Ashley, how am I going to be able to tell Zayn? Ashley shoves the phone in my hand and I begin to shake and tremble.

"He deserves to know. You too can sort this out, just call him." Ashley says, her voice soft.

"I don't know his number." I say. Surely she will not push me to call him now. Ashley snatches the phone out of my hand, and starts to press the buttons. She doesn't know his number, does she?

"Talk to the boys management and ask to talk to him." Ashley presses the little green button and shoves the phone back in my hand. I give her one last look before putting the phone to my ear. I wonder slightly away from Ashley so I'm a few feet away from her.

I can do this. And Ashley is right, Zayn deserves to know. He is the father after all. Why does my heart ache when ever I think that? Why does it even ache when I think of his name? Is it because what he did to me, or because of something else?

"Hello, this is 1DHQ." They pick up the phone in just under three rings.

"Hello, can I speak to Zayn Malik please." I say into the mouth piece.

"I'm sorry, we're not allowed to authorize that." The woman says.

"Well then, can I speak to the bands manager?" I ask, getting impatient.

"Hold please." I hear some rustling around and some voices on the other end, I look over at Ashley and she gives me a nod for encouragement. "Hello this is Paul." A males voice says.

"Could I speak to Zayn please." I ask, my voice getting a little louder.

"I'm afraid that's impossible. I can pass on a message if you like?" Paul says.

"Alright then. Could you tell Zayn that it's Lea Jordan from the New Years Eve party, and I have a surprise for him. It involves ten fingers and ten toes, and the mistake of not using a condom!" I yell the last little bit, then hang up the phone.

I don't know where the anger came from, but I did it, it's over with; there is no going back. I put the phone down on the coffee table and sit on the couch, placing my head in my hands. There was a dip next to me on the couch, and I felt Ashley's hand around my shoulder.

"Everything is going to be ok, Lea." She tries to comfort me, but it's not working.

"I can't believe you made me do that." I say into my hands, my voice sounds like a mumble on the way out.

"He has a right to know. Better you did now, instead of later." I sit up on the couch and just end up agreeing with her. The damage is done, and I'm not just talking about telling Zayn.

Me and Ashley spend the whole day watching movies, and eating snacks. About half way through the day, Juno came on the TV. At first I found it depressing, but in a way it cheered me up a little. Although, the fingernails bit did freak me out. If I do end up giving the baby up for adoption, I want to make sure I find the right people.

Me and Ashley decide to go to bed at eleven. Not exactly late, but then not early. I told her I was at three weeks and that I have a scan tomorrow, so I have to get up early for it.

I woke up at around eight and went through my usual routine of vomiting. I get dressed in simple jeans and a baggy top, and brush my teeth. I have my appointment at eleven-thirty, and Ashley is going to come with me; I don't want to go by myself.

I'm in the kitchen making myself a sandwidge when there is a faint knock on the door. Ashley is in the bathroom having a shower, so I have to answer it.

I open the door and see him standing there. His black hair is in a complete mess, and he has dark circles under his eyes. Why would he go out looking like this? He bites down on his bottom lip as he looks at me with his big and bold brown eyes. Stubble lines his jawbone and he is wearing black jeans with a baggy, checked, long-sleeved shit, that wasn't done up so it revealed a grey shit underneath.

"Zayn." I say in a husky, low voice.