Love, Romance And A Boy (bxb)

Part Twenty-Three - Part One

Part Twenty-Three - Part One

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We walk down the road, Scott's arm draped around my waist.

"I could get used to this," he comments, smiling at me. "Make it an everyday thing."

I turn to look at him. "Don't count on it, buddy."

He stops in his tracks, dropping his hand from my waist. "What?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "Wait, you're telling me we won't be together after uncountable magnificent makeout sessions and, you know, doing the naughty?"

I try not to laugh at his expression. "Well, clearly you got the wrong idea," I say, shrugging my shoulders, stepping forward and leaving him behind.

Scott laughs and jogs up to me. "Zayn, what?" he asks, exasperated. "Don't you want this? I thought you wanted this."

He's right. I do want it. But what about the people who love us? Scott makes me smile, laugh, and feel giddy, but this isn't just about us.

"Listen, I enjoy it as much as you do," I say, sighing. "But now it's time to go home because the station is right there. We can't afford to hurt the people we love, even if we get hurt in the process."

The ache in my heart grows bigger seeing the look on his face. It hurts to see him like this—sad and hopeless. We don't say anything else, walking in silence.

I hurt just as much as he does. The station comes into view, and I sigh with relief at the row of buses lined up.

We reach the small window of the bus station, and I turn to Scott. "Do you have any money?" I ask, pursing my lips.

He doesn't say anything as he taps his jeans' pockets and fishes out some dollar bills. I want to ask where he got the money, but I bite my tongue.

Scott holds a few bills between his fingers, sliding them under the glass. The man behind the glass looks bored as he hands us our tickets.

I want to say something, but Scott walks toward the bus. Shaking my head, I follow. Once we find our seats at the back, Scott looks out the window, his face resting against it.

I take his hand in mine. "I know how you must feel—"

He surprises me by retracting his hand and whipping his head to look at me. His usual brown eyes are now a deeper shade, devoid of their usual sparkle.

"No, you don't," he says through gritted teeth. "You think it might be fine to play with people's feelings, but it's not. Unfortunately, some people feel shit, and it hurts, so don't you even fucking dare."

An ache in my chest feels like it's closing in on me, and tears threaten to spill from my eyes. "Scott... I—it's complicated. You have to understand that. I'm scared of hurting my sister, and... it's just so complicated."

We jolt forward as the bus starts down the street. "Well, let me uncomplicate things for you: I love you," he states, looking deep into my eyes. "And when we get to the house, I'm breaking up with Jess, whether you like it or not."

I stare at him, not knowing what to say or do.

"I don't know... I don't know what to say," I admit, looking into his eyes. "What I do know is that I have feelings for you."

Without warning, he grabs me by the shirt and pulls me toward him, smashing our lips together. I have to admit, I missed it. My muscles relax, and my worries fade away.

He pulls back, his hand resting on the side of my face. "You make me happy," he says honestly. "And I want this feeling to continue because I love it."

I blush and smile. "You make me happy too."

Scott grins, the sparkle returning to his beautiful eyes. I furrow my eyebrows as he stands up from his seat and steps into the aisle of the bus.

He cups his hands around his mouth. "Yo! Can I have everyone's attention, please!"

The chatter in the bus instantly dies down, and everyone turns to look at Scott. Anxiety rises inside of me, and I shoot up from my seat.

I grab him by the elbow and tug. "What in the world are you doing?" I hiss, baring my teeth at the people sitting across from us. "Come sit down so we can discuss this."

Scott just grins and shakes his head. "No, Zayn. I want everyone to know how I feel."

I feel my face heat up, but Scott keeps going. "Everyone, I just want to say that I love Zayn, and I'm going to break up with Jess. I know it's messy, but I don't care. I want to be with the person who makes me happiest."

A murmur runs through the bus, and I feel like I'm going to melt into the floor. But Scott looks at me, his eyes full of determination, and I can't help but feel a spark of hope.

"Scott, this is crazy," I whisper, my voice shaky. "You don't have to do this here."

He steps closer, taking my hand. "Yes, I do. I need you to know that I'm serious. I'm all in, Zayn. No more hiding, no more pretending."

The bus driver—a lady—makes eye contact with me in the rearview mirror, and she smiles.

"Help," I mouth silently.

She shakes her head, mouthing back, "good luck."

I frown and step back, ready to take my seat. Scott grins and shouts, "this boy right here!" Everyone's eyes turn to me. "His name is Zayn Parker, and he is the most beautiful boy I've ever met."

The people on the bus don't help my terrible blushing by cooing at us. I bury my face in my hands, but Scott pulls them away, exposing my tomato-red cheeks.

To my surprise, he kneels down, taking my left hand. "Zayn Parker, you are my happiness. May I please have the honor of being your boyfriend?"

Everything goes silent, and everyone's eyes are on me, waiting for my reply. I find the bus driver's eyes in the mirror again, and she gives me a reassuring smile.

I look back at Scott and smile. "Yes! I'd love to!" I exclaim happily.

"Fuck yes!" he says, standing up. He doesn't waste any time, kissing me in front of everyone. "I love you."

A chorus of coos rises from our fellow travelers, and I smile against his lips. "I love you too."

Scott pulls away, turns around, and shouts, "he said he loves me too!"

Laughter fills the bus, and I drag him back to our seats. His smile never fades as he pulls me into another blissful kiss.

"Don't worry about your sister or your mom," he says, placing his hand on my cheek. "If they don't accept us, you can always move in with me."

I shrug and kiss him again, feeling the reassurance in his touch and words. Scott Young is all I ever needed because he makes me happy.

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