"Lovely"

Part Thirty Eight (Zayn)

Part Thirty Eight (Zayn)

  As long as I could remember, Liam and I were best mates. For real though, right from pre-k until this year, our senior fucking year, nothing ever came between us. I don’t think we ever even had an argument. Liam is, and continues to be, my closest comrade; you know,  if that’s still a thing.

  So a few months back, when he told me he was leaving up to Holmes Chapel for our last year of school, I have to admit that it broke my heart a bit. I mean like I care for Liam, I want him to be alright. Without him around, things have been lonely.

I happen to have taken care of that, in case there was a concern. (No...you know what that’s okay)

Having had spoken to Diana, Liam’s nan, and upon receiving the approval of my mother, I’m packed and headed to Holmes Chapel for the remainder of the year. Liam doesn’t know this yet, Diana and I are planning to surprise him tonight. See there’s this train line that runs between all the small towns in Cheshire and Yorkshire, so I can get from Doncaster to Holmes Chapel in about two hours for less than half a week’s wages.

~

Upon arrival in Holmes Chapel I lug my three cases full of what I could fit from my bedroom back home, and wait outside the terminal for Diana to meet me. She says that Liam’s in school until four, so I’ll have some time to get to their house and get settled in.

I just hope that Liam hasn’t replaced me or anything.

We’re tight, and have been since forever, so I can’t imagine that I have been. Hopefully everything will be as it was five months ago, when Liam left.

I only have to wait a few minutes before seeing Diana’s short, rounded figure come barreling through the crowd. She’s always been so demanding of people’s attention, never one to go unnoticed she is. It served her well, living out here, all the men are rather sexist, and were reluctant to sell her the bakery, as they didn’t want to be doing business with a woman. Bullshit, I know, but keep in mind that ninety percent of the population here was born during the Second World War, and have strong opinions about just about any topic you could possibly think up. The most prevalent of which is the whole “women are objects” thing. Now I know, it’s the twenty first century, and we recognize women as human beings now, and in most places as our equals, but in the minds of the business heads in Holmes Chapel, women are submissive to men, and black people are still slaves. So naturally, when a twenty something Diana came along and tried to buy the old sports bar back in the seventies, she was almost laughed out of the town.

Almost.

It took her almost two years of arguments with realtors and other business owners, but she was able to renovate and redecorate the place into the quaintest bakery and coffee house you’d ever see. It’s adorable, and as far as I remember they’ve only got two employees: herself and Liam. Never trusted a whole lot of other people, as I recall.

So, having this picture in my head, it came as absolutely no shock to see her pushing through people to get to me.

“If it isn’t Zayn Malik!” She calls, exasperated, “Why haven’t you become a fine young man!”

“Hello Diana” I say gently, “You’re alright, yeah?”

She nods and pulls me in for a hug, “Oh it’s just wonderful to see you, sweetheart, it’s been far too long.”

Liam and I used to make frequent visits out here to see Diana, so when I called her and asked if I could stay with her for a while, she was rather welcoming. It’s been maybe nine months since I’d last been out here? God, I can’t even remember.

We head back out to her vehicle, a run-down little beater, but efficient nonetheless. The entire way home she asks me all sorts of questions about school, and about my family and such. However after we’ve been driving a while, she gets quiet, pointing to a shorter, chocolate haired  boy in the crosswalk in front of us.

“You see him there?” she asks, her tone going dark.

“Yeah, what about him?”

Without a second look I know exactly who that is, how could I forget, Liam and I practically ruined that kids life. Put him in the hospital and everything. I can’t forget it. My mother still doesn’t mention it to me, the local police just shake their heads and look away when I walk past the station on my way home from the school.

We almost killed him.

Diana continues, “That boy is the reason I lost my only employee back at the bakery.”

“Really? Thought you only had Liam?”

“No, not before.” She shakes her head, and I begin to worry, “a young lad, Harry Styles, used to work for me. Until that…sewer rat gave him a sickness of the worst kind.”

I don’t respond, and Diana grips her steering wheel, her knuckles gradually turning white.

“Something ought to be done about him don’t you think?”

“Diana.” I gasp, suddenly short of breath. “Have you tried to reasoned with him at all?”

“Oh sweetie,” she laughs, curling her fingers, “People like him can’t be reasoned with.”

I go quiet, trying to process what she’s just said. Taking my silence as an opportunity for action, Diana slams her foot against the gas pedal, knocking Louis Tomlinson into the concrete road underneath us.