Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/943546.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band), Little_Mix_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Zayn_Malik/Liam_Payne, Perrie_Edwards/Zayn_Malik, Zayn_Malik/Harry_Styles
  Character:
      Zayn_Malik, Louis_Tomlinson, Liam_Payne, Harry_Styles, Niall_Horan,
      Perrie_Edwards
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Recreational_Drug_Use, Dubious_Consent,
      Teen_Pregnancy, Drug_Dealing, Infidelity
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-27 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 12966
****** Christmas In August ******
by catholicschoolgirl
Summary
     It sounds so cliché to say that it just happened but – it just
     happened. Or the one where Zayn is a teen father.
Notes
     So last year I wanted to write a fluffy Ziam teen father fic.
     Couldn't really pull that off, so I wrote this instead.
     Thanks to Frida for reading this and being an overall amazing best
     friend, and to everyone else out there who appreciates fucked up
     relationship dynamics in their fics. This one is for all of you.
     Title from Drake's song, Lord Knows.
***** Part One *****
“Oh shit.”
The keys glistened up at Zayn from their new home on the wet pavement. It was
cold and foggy, typical Northern California weather, and Zayn's whole morning
seemed to reflect the gloomy temperature. He had already burned himself making
breakfast, dropped all types of shit while getting his daughter ready,
forgotten things in the goddamn car, and his current grip on the baby's
stroller seemed especially tenuous, his backpack turned diaper bag sagging
under the unexpectedly tremendous weight of diapers, toys, bottles and snacks.
Zayn sighed and bent over to grab the keys, his blunt fingernails scraping
against the ground, before turning to the small girl analyzing him from her
warm place inside the stroller.
“Don't repeat that word to anyone, ok, Ali?”
The baby simply smiled, a full, wide grin and Zayn could feel his heart
melting, a regular occurrence whenever he looked at his daughter, before
bracing his hands on the stroller, pushing it up and along the path to a
quaint, ranch-style house. Zayn reached the door, turning the stroller
sideways, and pushed the key into the lock, grunting and shoving his weight
against the wood so that it would not stick. The moment the door gave way, he
was enveloped by warmth. It felt like the heater was on full-blast, and Zayn
gave a deep sigh of relief.
“'Lo?” Zayn called, pushing the stroller straight again before moving it up and
over the gap between the walkway and the door. He reached behind himself to
lock up before undoing the top few buttons of his jacket. To his right, he
could hear bustling in the kitchen, and at the sound of his voice, a pretty
blonde girl appeared, wiping her hands on an apron.
“Oh, you're here early,” the girl said. “I was making some lunch, if you wanted
to stay a bit?”
Zayn shrugged and began unbuckling his daughter from the stroller. “If it won't
be too much of a hassle?”
The blonde girl, Perrie, smiled shyly “As if you could ever be a burden, Zayn.”
Now it was Zayn's turn to release a shy smile, and Perrie walked over, grabbing
the small girl out of his arms with the ease that only a mother could perfect.
“Now how is my baby girl? How is my Ali baby?” she cooed, bouncing the small
child on her hip as she sauntered back into the kitchen. “Wanna see what momma
is making? Wanna see the yum-yums?”
Zayn finished undoing his jacket with another small sigh and walked into the
cramped kitchen, dropping his backpack on the counter opposite the stove before
busying himself with pulling out the baby's supplies. It wasn't until he had
taken out all of the diapers and formula that he saw it again, buried at the
bottom. A small catalog for UC Berkeley. Zayn had almost forgotten about it,
but now that he saw it again, he remembered with a jolt everything he had
somehow momentarily managed to forget, and lost himself in all of his mistakes.
 
It all happened in September. Zayn had just began his junior year, and all of
the terrors and aspirations of youth stretched out endlessly in front of him.
He had been dating a senior named Rebecca, and he had fucked it all up by
getting sloppy at a house party. He had been doing a good job of pretending
that it was no big deal when Rebecca had dumped him in the middle of the
cafeteria while screaming, “I hope you get herpes you stupid fuck!” and he had
also done a pretty good job of playing their whole relationship off as nothing
more than a glorified fling that Rebecca was getting way too upset over, but if
he was completely honest, Zayn was very annoyed with himself, starting to get
that familiar itch where he wanted someone to make him feel special again.
Zayn and Perrie had always been very good friends, and they had hooked up a lot
but it never really meant anything. Zayn actually had a theory that Perrie was
head over heels for her friend, Leigh Anne, but whenever he wanted to pretend
as though he was in love, he knew Perrie would humor him. She was warm and
funny and loving, and Zayn wished he was in love with her, to be honest. And so
it was September, and Zayn was heartbroken, and maybe Perrie was too, after a
rather nasty and pointless disagreement with Leigh Anne that Zayn never really
did bother to ask about outright, and the two of them fucked in her basement
while Perrie's mom was at work and her brother was away at college. And Zayn
did not use a condom, because he never did with Perrie, it was just something
that never crossed his mind. Pregnancy was just something that would never
happen to her, to them.
It sounds so cliché to say that it just happened but – it just happened.
And then it was the beginning of November, and Zayn noticed that he had not
seen Perrie for a few days at school. He knew she had been to class by asking
around – she just wasn't talking to him or hanging out with their friends at
lunch. Which wasn't like her, they always hung out. He somehow ended up
cornering her, and she just looked so small and scared and then she told him.
She was pregnant, and she did not know what to do, whether she wanted to keep
the baby or not, and Zayn was terrified because as much as he wanted to lash
out and scream that there was no way that kid was his, he knew. He knew Perrie
and he knew what they did and he knew fucking basic math. And he knew that he
had never wanted anything more than someone to love him, and Perrie was
offering him this opportunity in the gift of a baby, and he wanted to meet this
child growing inside of her that could love him unconditionally, so he asked
her to consider keeping it, promised that he would do everything and anything
to make this work if she would meet him halfway. And she decided to keep the
baby and so they told their parents and Zayn had never seen people look so
disappointed, but Zayn and Perrie were determined to make this work, and when
Aliyyah was born that June, Zayn's heart felt like it would explode from all of
the love he felt just looking at the baby with shockingly thick, black hair and
hazel eyes, looking so much like Zayn that it made him cry as he cradled the
newborn and sang “My Girl” while Perrie slept.
Zayn knew it was all worth it, even after Perrie dropped out, and Zayn slowly
stopped going to school, too, and they both decided to try and find an
apartment with Perrie's mom as the signer, so they could settle down and be a
family. It was hard, but Zayn had the love of his life, and even if it hurt to
watch his friends doing normal teenage things while he had to go to work two
shitty jobs that he hated, Zayn felt like he could wait for everything else to
fall in place.
 
Perrie basically dropped out right after she discovered she was pregnant. She
blamed it on her morning sickness and the fact that she could easily go and get
her GED, but Zayn knew it was a bit more than that. Perrie had never dealt with
bullying in the way Zayn had, and her pregnancy made her a new target for
insidious rumors and nasty comments. Zayn could tell it really got to her. He
didn't blame her for wanting to just avoid all of that.
Zayn tried to stick it out for longer, but ended up leaving in April.
Everything had just started seeming exceptionally stupid. All of his classmates
were talking about how they were going to get an invite to prom while he was
worrying about a goddamn baby. He had picked up his first job and initially was
only working four hours after school and a few more on the weekends, but the
money just wasn't enough, and dropping out just seemed like a better option.
When Perrie ended up being hospitalized due to premature labor, Zayn felt
justified in his decision. He was fucking hemorrhaging cash in between helping
Perrie's mom pay hospital bills and rent for the shitty apartment Perrie had
found, and stockpiling the essentials for the baby, and he was exhausted. After
the baby was born he had switched out his job at a local Taco Bell for one at
the huge Abercrombie & Fitch in San Francisco, so at least he was making SF's
minimum wage working part time there, but shit if he wasn't running himself
ragged commuting back and forth between Perrie's house in Point Richmond to
watch the baby, his job in the City, and the job he picked up waiting tables at
a pizza restaurant in El Cerrito on the weekends.
It was really only a matter of time before he turned to dealing, really.
 
Louis Tomlinson had been Zayn's friend for ages. They had met when they were
toddlers at gymboree class or some shit, back when they both still lived in
Oakland and the world had been simple and straightforward. They had somehow
managed to stay in contact throughout the years, even as Zayn's family bounced
around as his dad pursued shitty working class job after shitty working class
job. Louis graduated from Oakland Tech, but just barely, and he had no real
desire to go to college or do much of anything besides hang around Berkeley
with his friends Niall and Harry and skateboard. Zayn hadn't really seen Louis
nearly as much once Ali was born, but one summer night Perrie called Zayn as he
was getting off work and boarding the train back home to tell him that her mom
was going to watch the baby tonight. “I think I'm going to go see Jade and
Jesy,” Perrie had said. “You should go see your boys.”
“Um, sure,” Zayn replied, surprised by the entire conversation. “I'll see if
Louis is free or something.”
Zayn had fired off a quick text to Louis and was completely unsurprised when he
received the response - “We're down getting some food in Berkeley, come on
through!”
Zayn got off at the right stop and cut through UC Berkeley's campus to get to
Blondie's Pizza, pushing down impossible thoughts about how nice it would be to
go to a school like this. There was still some time until students returned for
the start of the Fall Semester, but there were plenty of people on campus,
sitting around and laughing with open backpacks and stacks of books. Something
about the summer heat, the occasionally cool breeze ruffling Zayn's hair and
the sound of Drake's Take Care blasting through his shitty $10 headphones was
making him feel uncharacteristically optimistic. He was in a good ass mood, and
was feeling young again for the first time in a while.
Louis was holding court in the middle of the cramped restaurant, two boxes of
large cheese pizza stacked precariously on top of a mustard colored table.
Niall Horan, all badly dyed blonde hair, was sitting to Louis' right, wearing a
green San Francisco Giants snapback and the most obnoxious pair of baggy pants
Zayn had ever seen. Harry Styles was seated at Louis' other side, tussling his
soft chestnut curls and nodding curtly at Zayn when he entered the restaurant.
Zayn and Harry once had a really intense thing, and Zayn definitely entertained
a few daydreams about what it would be like to fall in love with a well-to-do
white boy straight out of a Burberry ad, back in another world where Zayn was
stupid and high off aspirations of living fast and hard and before their thing
came to a screeching halt, but now as far as Zayn was concerned, Harry was just
another ex that he had royally fucked over, Louis' baby-faced seventeen-year-
old friend who went to private school up in the hills and was only starting to
learn how not to take all of his privileges for granted.
Another boy was sitting at the table, directly across from Louis, and Zayn
realized with a start that he couldn't place his face from anywhere. The boy
had short but styled brown hair and he was clearly tall like Harry, if the way
his legs jutted out from under the table was any indication. His plain white T
stretched across broad shoulders and he lazily played with the hem of his T-
shirt, lifting it up with one hand and fanning himself with the other.
The boy caught sight of Zayn and smiled, his whole face just lighting up, eyes
crinkling at the corners and everything. And Zayn didn't believe in love at
first sight, but a thrill went through his veins at the sight of how open this
boy's countenance was. It was fucking refreshing, exhilarating, all of the
emotions that Zayn hadn't let himself feel for months.
“Zayn!” Louis bellowed, throwing his arms up in the air and nearly upsetting
the small table. “It's been too long!”
“You know it,” Zayn replied, walking around to Louis and grabbing him in a one-
armed hug. Zayn nodded to Niall and Harry, who both smiled back, before turning
to the other boy.
“Oh, Zayn, this is Liam,” Louis said with a start, gesturing at the unknown boy
at the table. “He goes to school with Harry and Niall, just moved here from
Connecticut.”
Zayn didn't believe in love at first sight, but from way Liam's eyes widened
and then went soft as Zayn went in to shake hands . . . well, Zayn was willing
to bet that Liam did.
 
Zayn ate a few slices of pizza that Louis had saved for him, and then followed
the boys back to the university campus, sitting on a bench while Louis, Niall,
and Harry attempted tricks on their skateboards in front of Sproul Hall. Liam
didn't have a board with him, so he sat next to Zayn on the bench, smiling
ruefully and saying, “I don't really know how to skate, to be honest.”
“I could definitely teach you,” Zayn said, grinning a bit and not even knowing
where this flirtatious tone was coming from. Liam didn't seem to mind, grinning
a bit before biting his lip. “So you go to school with Harry and Niall?”
“Yeah, met them at summer school, obviously, as school hasn't really started
yet,” Liam said. “I'm awful at math and part of the condition of my enrollment
was that I had to re-take Trig over the summer. Niall was in the class too, and
I guess Harry's really good at math, so he was getting community service hours
as a peer tutor. They're both super nice. I just met Louis yesterday.”
“Louis and Niall both used to be on the same youth soccer team,” Zayn
explained, trying to hold back a snicker when Harry got onto his skateboard and
promptly fell over. “Niall knows everyone though, as you've probably already
gathered.”
“For sure. How do you know them?”
“Louis and I have known each other since we've been toddlers,” Zayn explained.
“Louis and Niall met through that soccer team, and I used to go to the games so
then we became a little trio. Niall and Harry went to the same middle school.
We were all super tight like a year and a half ago, but I've been busy with
shit lately so I haven't been around as much. It's actually kind of weird that
I'm even here right now, to be honest.”
“Busy, like with school?”
Zayn realized suddenly that he was about to have that conversation, and
mentally tried to brace himself for it. “Um, no. My daughter is fourteen
months.”
Liam's eyebrows rose almost comically. “Oh. Wow. Um. But, I thought you were
like the same age as Louis?”
“I am,” Zayn said, averting his eyes and running his hands along the cold metal
bench. “My ex-girlfriend got pregnant and I dropped out to help her out with
our baby. This past year would've been my senior year, if I'd finished.”
“So you should be starting college right now,” Liam muttered, looking up as he
appeared to mentally do the math. “I mean – sorry. I just, I haven't met anyone
around my age with a kid.”
“Nah, I understand,” Zayn replied, shrugging a little. “I'm surprised Louis
didn't debrief you beforehand. He's normally pretty good at that, so I don't
have to fumble my way through awkward situations.”
Liam shrugged apologetically. “We don't really know each other, he just kind of
announced that another friend was coming, and then he said your name. Harry
sort of muttered something, but I didn't catch it, or think anything of it,
really.”
Zayn frowned a little and tried not to read too much into the Harry comment.
“What's your daughters name?” Liam asked.
“Aliyyah, Ali for short,” Zayn said, pulling out his phone and showing Liam a
picture of Ali standing up, bracing herself against a chair leg and looking
both surprised and pleased with herself.
“Wow, she looks just like you,” Liam whispered, his eyes skittering between the
picture on the screen and Zayn's face. “She's gorgeous.”
“Calling me gorgeous?” Zayn asked, bumping his shoulder into Liam's and making
note of how cute he was when red started to bloom on his cheeks.
“Maybe,” Liam smirked, and Zayn couldn't help the way his own face broke into a
grin.
 
It was kind of a cliché, wasn't it? Boy has a baby, drops out of high school,
and begins selling weed to help support his family. Zayn never intended to be a
fucking cliché, a walking advertisement for the importance of safe sex
education in schools and a statistic to support the continued failings of the
inner-city, but shit, it was hard for Zayn to give a fuck about the reports and
the surveys when his kid needed diapers and the heat in his baby mama's
apartment got turned off and the cash he had stashed in a shoebox under his bed
was running dangerously low. And Zayn was smart – he knew the mistakes others
had made that landed them in jail, and he was adamant that he avoid all of the
cocky fuck-ups to avoid a similar fate. So he called up his good friend Danny,
who boxed and grew plants in his spare time, and got on that grind. It wasn't
amazing money, but Zayn refused to talk seriously with some of those people in
his ear, offering to hook him up with big shots that supplied molly, coke, and
meth, and Zayn had gotten more hours working in San Francisco and was able to
drop the job waiting tables, giving him more time to spend with Ali now that
Perrie had gotten her GED and was taking night classes at Contra Costa College
to study Medical Assisting.
But yeah, it was all good. Zayn was basically selling to his friends –
coworkers in San Francisco, his cousins, Louis' group of miscreants, and all of
the rich kids Harry knew. Zayn could now add Liam to that list, not that he
ever actually sold Liam anything. Harry and Niall always had to pay, but Liam
joined Louis on the short list of people who got the good stuff for free.
Once Zayn started selling, he got his weekends back. He generally spent the day
with Ali and Perrie, occasionally taking Ali along whenever he had an “errand”
to run, but the nights were all his.
 
Zayn wasn't exactly sure when his agreement to “be a family” with Perrie ended,
only that at some point Perrie turned to him, their bodies flush and sweaty
from a quickie after putting Ali to bed, and asked, “Um, would it be okay if I
saw someone else, too?”
Zayn honestly didn't care whose ass or genitalia Perrie decided to put her
mouth to, so long as she didn't bring anything back to him, which was about as
much as he said. She smirked and punched him hard in the shoulder before
getting up to clean the spunk off her chest, and Zayn watched her ass as she
sauntered into the bathroom and wondered if he should be more upset at the fact
that his dick wasn't enough.
Not that Perrie's pussy had been enough for Zayn – his cheating hadn't stopped
with Rebecca. His thing with Harry really didn't end all that long ago, and
Zayn had fucked around with Perrie's friend Jesy right after Ali was born, but
he couldn't really remember the details of that one so it didn't count.
Regardless, their decision to mutually fuck around with other people while
still banging each other when the mood hit them meant that Perrie usually
dropped Ali off at her mom's house to go and sneak into 21+ clubs with her
girls. Zayn didn't really ask a lot of questions about it, just as Perrie
didn't ask where Zayn was going at the same time.
Usually, he would just drive over to Louis' house and wait around for Harry to
pick them up in the used Beamer his mom had bought him for his sixteenth
birthday, Niall already occupying shotgun and Liam hanging out in the backseat,
a shy look in his face whenever Zayn inevitably took the cramped middle seat.
Then they would just drive to whichever house party was going on in the Hills
or the City that week. The other boys generally headed straight to whatever
makeshift bar there was while Zayn got to work, doing rounds to his usuals
before crashing on a sofa, or outside, or on the porch, lighting up a cigarette
or a blunt or nursing a cup of jungle juice, just kinda vegging out.
It was September now, and Harry, Niall, and Liam were entering their senior
year of high school. It was really weird for Zayn, watching the boys go back to
school and not doing the same himself, not finishing off his own senior year,
not starting college now. But it was okay. Things were really okay.
 
The days dragged on and everything was becoming sticky sweet and slow as the
days bled by and the air became warm with the last desperate gasps of summer.
One day Zayn dropped Ali off at Perrie's mom's place and then took his car
across the bridge, picking Liam and Louis up out front of the Metreon in
downtown San Francisco. They drove up, up, up winding roads to Twin Peaks, a
gorgeous and quiet neighborhood with sweeping views of the Bay Area. This
October night, like most nights, it was overcast and cold as hell, the fog
hanging heavily across the skyline, but it didn't stop Zayn from looking out at
the spectacular view and feeling contemplative. Zayn and Louis had passed a
blunt between them, hotboxing the car and filling it with the heady smell of
marijuana, and Zayn was already thinking of how many cans of Febreeze it would
take to remove the smell. But everything just felt right. At some point Louis
passed out in the backseat, shoes kicked off and lying on top of garbage from
In N Out. Zayn was thinking of asking Liam to drive home, or if he minded
spending the night in the car since Zayn couldn't even remember if Liam had a
driver's license, and then Liam was talking, lips plush and red even though he
hadn't gotten his mouth around anything besides the straw of a cup of Coke he
had ordered at In N Out.
“I'm just saying,” Liam muttered. “Like, don't you ever wonder? About what it'd
be like – if you didn't have a kid?”
“Course,” Zayn replied. “But there's no point. She's here, I love her to death.
She's my fucking world, you know?”
Liam smiled, and Zayn pretended as though Liam did understand. It was a
conversation Zayn had experienced a million times with damn near everyone who
knew he had a child, and Zayn was kind of surprised that Liam had taken two
months before getting around to it. Either way, it was a fucking pointless
conversation. Of course things could have turned out differently. But they
hadn't, and Zayn was grateful for his daughter, could never imagine a universe
without her. Being a father had made him that much less selfish, if nothing
else.
“Do you ever wonder about finding someone, though?” Liam asked. “Like, what
they would think about it?”
Zayn shrugged. “It's only one more thing that makes being with me hard, I
guess,” he eventually said. “Like, I understand that I'm difficult to deal
with. I – fuck. I mean, I used to fuck everything that moved, you know? And
Perrie and I were never really a thing – not the way people thought we were. It
was just convenient. Harry and I used to kind of mess around.” Zayn wasn't sure
why he said this, and he didn't miss the way Liam tensed, his throat working
through a swallow. “But you know, it didn't work out, none of my relationships
have. And like, having a kid – I mean, if someone wanted me, that wouldn't be a
big deal, right? Or at least that's what I tell myself. Like, it's just another
fact about me – I like Power Rangers, I dyed a blonde streak in my hair once, I
have a daughter.” Zayn leaned back against the headrest and sighed. “I can't
remember what point I was trying to make.”
“It's fine,” Liam said with a small chuckle, but the laugh didn't reach his
eyes. Zayn wasn't sure what he said to fuck this conversation up. “Will you
need me to drive home?”
 
Zayn started contemplating going back to class and getting his GED. There were
a few places that offered preparation classes relatively near his and Perrie's
apartment, but he had to admit that he wasn't super excited about the idea of
taking classes at night after work. Still, Zayn hated feeling as though all of
his friends were passing him by, plus he knew that he needed at least a high
school diploma to provide for his daughter.
“You should be thinking about how you're going to get into college,” his mother
said one day when he brought Ali by for a visit. His sister Doniya was out with
her newest boyfriend, but the other girls were in the house, playing with Ali
in the living room while Zayn and his mother drank some tea at a small table in
the kitchen.
“Mom,” Zayn began but his mom held up a hand to stop him.
“No, listen. You want the best for Ali, and the best for her is an educated
father. You need to go back to school, love. As much as I wanted to see you
walk across the stage at your high school, I will content myself with a GED
certificate. So hop to it, Zayn.”
Zayn knew his mother was on to something. Zayn had always been a huge bookworm
when he was younger – he lost himself in Narnia and Hogwarts, and traveled the
countryside with Don Quixote and made his way to the American Deep South to
confront injustice with Scout Finch. Zayn often found his reality lacking, a
world gray from the mixture of Bay Area fog and the polluting haze of a Chevron
plant nearby, and in the aftermath of 9/11 and the heightened scrutiny for
brown males with “funny” names who prayed to a “different” God, Zayn often
found himself on the outskirts, and although he was never content to be there,
the sting of loneliness was often dulled by the alternative existences that
sprang from the crisp pages of library books. Zayn did not like recess or lunch
time, but English was always a bright spot in his day, 45 minutes where nothing
mattered but the pen in his hand and the fantasies in his head. And overall,
Zayn always did rather well in school. He did not care for math, and he often
found that opinion pieces on Al Jazeera's website were more informative than
his history classes, but he was definitely more than mediocre – not the kid who
won all of the awards, nor the kid who was taunted for his inability to grasp
any concept, but the kid who quietly had a 3.5 GPA and was guaranteed a spot at
one of the University of California campuses.
But of course, when Perrie got pregnant, things that had once seemed so
important – like getting a good grade on his Geometry quiz – suddenly seemed so
infantile. He needed cash and he needed it yesterday, so he just kind of put in
the paperwork and dropped out.
Not to mention the fact that Zayn always needed to be doing something
intellectually stimulating, he was realizing – he needed to be reading a book,
or keeping up to date on the news, or debating the merits of Marvel vs DC. And
working and selling were fun, yeah, as were hanging out with his boys when he
got a chance but damn it if he wasn't bored.
So Zayn started researching GED preparation classes on his phone at work and
Googling information on the college application process. And he told his mom
the next time he saw her, and felt himself glow under the proud beam she sent
his way.
 
Another Saturday night, another house party. Zayn was done with his usual
rounds and had long since lost all of the boys. The party was in full swing, a
raucous round of beer pong dominating the living room, and the kitchen had been
taken over by a few kids with a hookah. Zayn decided to make his way outside
for a quick cigarette, and pushed open a small door in the kitchen that led
right by a pretty decent sized pool. Zayn fumbled with his pockets and took out
a cigarette and a lighter, humming to himself when he finally got the damn
thing to catch. It was a chilly November night, but Zayn had a substantial
jacket on, one that Danny had outgrown years ago and thrown Zayn's way, and in
this moment he was content to let the noise of the party fade into the
background as he concentrated on the spectacular view that this house offered.
They were somewhere or other in the Berkeley Hills, surrounded by other giant
multimillion dollar houses with pools and floor to ceiling glass walls, and
even though the fog was starting to roll in, Zayn could see parts of sparkling
San Francisco through the haze of gray. Zayn had a brief moment of longing – he
wished he was with Ali, and someone else – just someone who he could sit and
watch the sunrise with, watch as the fog rolled back and the sun peaked
through. Sighing, he finished his cigarette and tossed it onto the ground,
stubbing it out with his toe, and turned to go inside when he caught the sound
of his own name.
“– Zayn could be doing so much more, I feel really bad about it.”
That was definitely Liam’s voice. He was standing on the other side of the pool
with someone who could only be Louis, if the rolled up pants legs and Toms were
any indication. They both had their backs to Zayn, and were passing a joint
back and forth between them. Zayn had a brief moment of indecision – they were
talking about him, but obviously this wasn’t a conversation he was intended to
hear – before he mentally screamed “Fuck it!” and crept closer to the door, now
diagonally behind his friends, but still in good earshot.
“Of course he could, but he has a kid now, he can’t just go fucking around like
we do.”
“Yeah, but like, it’s just all so shitty, isn’t it? We kind of make him hang
out with us all the time anyway.”
Louis shrugged, taking an exceptionally long pull before responding. “You don’t
have to worry about him. He’s a good dad, he’s doing everything he needs to do
and then some.”
Liam shook his head, laughing lowly. “I’m not worried about that. Not at all.”
“But – ?” Louis nudged.
“But the way he looks at Harry – ”
Louis laughed, his whole back shaking. “No, don’t even go down that road.”
“What is with the two of them? No, seriously, Lou, don’t laugh at me, I’m being
dead ass serious here.”
“You really shouldn’t try and go fucking around with a guy who has a kid and
all types of fidelity and baby mama issues, that’s number one,” Louis said, and
Zayn would be lying if he said that description didn’t hurt a little. “You’ve
got a lot going for you, Liam, and that’s what Harry learned the hard way.”
“So are you going to tell me?”
Louis shook his head, his voice creeping down a notch when he finally decided
to speak. “Of course, you really should be asking Harry and Zayn about this,
but I’m nothing if not a gossip. Basically, Harry and Zayn used to have a
thing. Like they hooked up at every party, were all over each other, fought all
the damn time – it was endearing, annoying, and gross. This all started like
three years ago, Zayn and I were both sophomores, and it kept on through most
of our junior year. And then Perrie got pregnant. We didn't know about it until
Zayn dropped out, Perrie must've been like four or five months by that point.
Harry was heartbroken.”
“Shit,” Liam whispered.
That was a really shit description of the way everything went down, but to be
honest, it was only half the truth, and Zayn was glad that Louis didn’t blab
and go into detail. Because yeah, Zayn had been a huge dumbass. He had been
officially dating Rebecca at the time, but she dumped him when he hooked up
with a girl at a party and the news got back to Rebecca. That girl was Perrie.
And he had been hooking up with Perrie off and on for ages, so it wasn’t that
bad of a thing to get dumped for mashing faces with someone he cared so much
about, even if he never felt strong enough about her to make it official. But
at the same time, he had been fucking Harry for months – he had practically
been dating Rebecca and Harry simultaneously, now that he looked back on it.
Not that Harry knew that, they went to different high schools, Zayn didn’t have
a Facebook or Twitter, and Rebecca had a strict curfew, so it generally worked
out that Zayn could hang out with Rebecca right after school until her mom
picked her up, and then he could go home, take a quick shower, and goof off
with his boys. Louis kind of knew, because he was an intuitive fuck when he
wanted to be, but Harry had no clue, and it was obvious that he thought the
world of Zayn, and yeah Zayn really cared about Harry too, but it was
different. But then Zayn started to get sloppy, kept getting caught by everyone
with his hands in the metaphorical cookie jar, and then Perrie got pregnant,
and Harry wasn’t just heartbroken – he was fucking gutted. Zayn didn’t even
have the balls to tell Harry himself – Louis did once it looked like everyone
else in their circle had already heard, and then Harry started talking about
transferring schools, his grades were pretty fucked for a minute, and he left a
lot of really depressing voicemails on Zayn’s phone when he was drunk, which
became scarily often. In the end, Harry didn’t hang out with Louis for ages,
and Zayn even longer. It was a lot for Zayn to try and make better when he was
going through his own dumbass teenage dad shit, trying to figure out how he
could still hang on to this ideal of Perrie as the mother of his child and
Harry as some glorified side piece. It was only a few months ago, once Harry
actually met Ali, that he and Zayn kind of became cool again. Harry still
looked at Zayn like he wanted nothing more than to kill him occasionally, but
Zayn had accepted that this was just something he would have to put up with if
he still wanted Harry in his life. They were never gonna be what they once
were, but Zayn was kind of okay with that. Harry was just the epitome of a life
he just couldn’t have now.
 
By the time December rolled around and the boys were all out for their winter
break, Zayn had stacked himself a nice amount of cash and was planning on going
all out for Christmas. “You really shouldn't,” Perrie had said as she heated up
some oatmeal on their shitty stove. Zayn was balancing Ali on his hip as he
watched Perrie, the epitome of “early morning I don't give a fuck” as she
bustled around their cramped kitchen in a pair of Zayn's boxers and a flimsy
tank top. “Whatever you are thinking of doing, you should just use that money
for something practical. Like fixing your goddamn car.”
Zayn contemplated listening to Perrie, before deciding that it was his money
and he was gonna do it big. As far as Zayn was concerned, Christmas was great
for two things – presents and Hennessy – so he intended on spending his hard-
earned and illegally-procured extra funds on both.
Which was how Zayn found himself outside of Danny's house in Antioch, doing a
deal to some guy he only vaguely knew while standing in the middle of the
street, quickly approaching absolutely drunk off his ass.
“Keep the motherfucking change!” the guy yelled, punching a crumpled twenty
into Zayn's fist. “Happy Christmas, bruh!”
“Yeah, you too, man,” Zayn said, stuffing the bill into his jeans and waving
the guy away. Zayn stumbled a little as he turned, but he was all good, it was
winter, it was kinda sprinkling outside and he was a little tipsy, but that's
what the holidays were about.
Time blurred, and Zayn found himself throwing back another shot of Henny while
standing in Danny's room, and Niall was laughing in his ear and yelling
something unintelligible and then another shot and he was in the bathroom on
his knees with Harry's dick in his mouth.
Which was familiar and right in ways he had forgotten about, but not how he
intended to spend this night when he had kissed his daughter goodnight and
ruffled Perrie's hair on his way out the door.
Zayn successfully managed not to puke all over Harry's dick and Harry started
crying as he came down Zayn's throat and just left, so Zayn tried to jerk
himself a bit before he got bored and realized he was probably too drunk to
properly get off. He tucked himself back into his jeans and finally stumbled
out of the bathroom, much to the cheers of strangers who had queued up outside
of the door, took a few steps into the crowded living room and walked right
into a very angry Liam Payne.
“The fuck, Zayn?” Liam asked, grabbing Zayn's arm and digging into it.
“What do you mean, 'The fuck, Zayn?' What the fuck, Liam?”
“You're drunk,” Liam spat, releasing his hold on Zayn and glaring at him.
“Nah, I've just had a few drinks, I'm good. I'm so good. You're good.”
Liam rolled his eyes and took a step back. “Any reason why Harry just demanded
that Louis drive him home?” Zayn shrugged and leaned against the wall. He was
too drunk for a lecture. “He was fucking crying and repeating your name, Zayn!”
“He's always crying, he's a pussy who can't get over himself.”
A distant part of Zayn realized that that statement came out of nowhere and was
actually really kind of fucked up.
Liam just kind of stared at Zayn for a moment before mouthing the word, “Wow.”
Visibly shaking himself a bit, Liam chuckled lowly and turned to walk away.
“Okay, you need to sober up, and grow up while you're at it. Louis was right –
no point in dealing with someone with these kind of issues.”
Zayn realized that if it hurt when Louis said it, it hurt twenty times more
when Liam did.
 
Zayn lost count of how many drinks he had after Liam left, as he drank anything
and everything on the kitchen counter-turned-bar. He slept in Danny's bed that
night, crying into Danny's shoulder, his eyes going dry as he coughed and
gradually forgot why he was even upset in the first place.
 
Louis stopped talking to Zayn for a while.
 
Zayn spent New Years Eve with his daughter curled up next to him, her body a
small heater where it rested against his. He watched New Year's Rockin Eve on
television and tried to will away the image of Liam's mouth curled up in a
snarl. As he dug into leftover Chinese food and watched the countdown, he
pushed away the dream of Liam sitting here with him, the thought of curling his
hand around the back of Liam's neck as they melted together, the slow slide of
his lips an example of the things you want to live another year for.
Zayn's New Years kiss was the top of Ali's forehead, and everything was perfect
in that brief moment where all of the bullshit faded away.  
***** Part Two *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
January was quiet. Liam hadn't made any effort to talk to Zayn, and Harry and
Louis definitely hadn't. Out of their small group, the only one Zayn had heard
from, and with any regularity, was Niall, who was always good for nonsensical
texts full of unsolicited fun facts. Zayn was working Martin Luther King Jr.
day at the mall, manning the register at Abercrombie & Fitch (which really
meant watching YouTube videos on his phone and pretending not to notice the
customers who wanted to be rung up), when he got a phone call from Niall. Niall
was more of the texting kind of guy, unless he was drunk and feeling
particularly affectionate, so Zayn immediately unlocked his phone and put it to
his ear, gesturing to a pair of teenage girls standing at the front of the line
to come up to the counter.
“'Lo?” Zayn asked as he began scanning items of clothing.
“Zayn! Dude, where the fuck have you been?” Niall screeched. And it was three
thirty in the afternoon on a Monday, but Niall already sounded well on his way
to fucked up. “I haven't seen you since Christmas. Unacceptable. Did I tell
you? I'm throwing a huge rager this weekend! Gonna have to come.”
Zayn finished ringing up the two teenage girls, and beckoned at a middle-aged
man to come to the register. Zayn re-adjusted the position of the phone on his
shoulder as he removed the sensors from a pair of jeans. “Look man, I'd love to
come through but I'm sure you know by now what happened with Harry and I – ”
“That ain't got nothing to do with me, man,” Niall interrupted. “Harry hasn't
even been out since then, I've only seen him to spark up a few times over at
Ed's. I doubt he'll come through. Not that I don't think you need to talk to
him. You pulled some fucked up shit, bruh.”
Zayn smiled at the middle-aged man who had started tapping his foot where he
was standing by the counter, seemingly frustrated with the fact that Zayn was
on the phone. Zayn just kind of shrugged and handed the guy his bag and his
receipt. “Oh, I know that. No need to lecture me.”
“And I'm not gonna,” Niall replied. “But you do need to talk to Louis and Liam,
and they should both be there. So come through. I know you've been doing the
whole penance thing, not going out and picking up extra hours which good on ya,
but still though. Come out and show ya face.”
Which was how Zayn ended up at Niall's house in San Francisco that next
Saturday. Zayn's car had been broken into a few days back, his passenger side
window was all fucked up – really, why did people still steal stereos? – so
Danny had picked Zayn and Ali up from the apartment, and then they dropped Ali
off at Zayn's parents' house on the way across the Bay Bridge.
Niall was the only member of their friend group who lived in San Francisco. He
used to stay with his dad and brother in Orinda, but when his brother moved out
and got married, Niall's dad decided to move him and Niall over to the City,
where he had been working (and commuting) for the past sixteen years away. They
had a significantly smaller house in Glen Park but far more shit to do. Niall
insisted on staying at the same private school he had been going to across the
Bay, so he took the train to school every day and spent more time over at
Harry's house over the weekends than not, but every so often his dad went out
of town and Niall would throw a big party. His house wasn't that far from Bart,
he had a really nice deck, and he knew fucking everybody.
By the time Zayn and Danny had parked around the corner and made their way
inside, the party was in full swing. Danny quickly ran into one of his old
boxing friends, so Zayn picked up a red cup full of jungle juice before doing a
quick round at the party, selling to some of his regulars before finally
running into Niall outside on the deck. Niall had apparently gotten a hold of a
huge restaurant-sized keg and was talking animatedly to a bunch of girls but
interrupted whatever he was saying to give Zayn a quick hug and yell, “Louis
and Liam went to Safeway to buy more mixers – they should be back in a bit!”
Zayn really wasn't looking forward to talking to Louis and Liam – he didn't
really know who he wanted to avoid more – but he nodded to Niall and made his
way back inside, plopping down on the couch next to a couple that was having a
fervent argument over whether it was possible to wear sports gear without
necessarily supporting the team in question. Zayn had a sneaking suspicion this
was due to the Nets snapback the boyfriend was wearing.
Zayn was starting to get really tired, almost dozing off a little, when he felt
someone slap his shoulder. He turned and looked behind him, and nodded at Liam
and Louis, both of who were standing over him with identical distant
expressions.
“'Sup?” Zayn asked. “Can I talk to you guys?”
“I'm still too pissed to talk, to be honest,” Liam said. “But I am going to let
you know that I think the way you treated Harry was absolute shit, and I don't
care if you were fucked off your ass or not.” Liam quirked an eyebrow at Louis
and then turned, making his way through the crowd of people, probably to go and
get himself a drink. Zayn and Louis both watched him go.
“He says he's mad at you for Harry's sake, but we all know he's just mad
because when you get fucked you went to Harry first,” Louis said, grinning a
little meanly. “Do you have any rolling papers I can borrow?”
“You know I've got more than that for you,” Zayn replied, and they both walked
through the living room, jumping over a child's gate that Niall had placed by
the stairs to block people from going upstairs. They made their way to Niall's
bedroom, locking it shut as Zayn rolled a blunt for Louis, letting his mind go
blank as he busied himself with the task. He handed it over to Louis, who took
it with eager fingers.
“I'm pretty mad at you, too,” Louis said, taking a full pulls before breaking
the uneasy silence. “But I am actually mad at you for Harry's sake. What were
you thinking, man?”
“I honestly don't remember how I even ended up hooking up with him,” Zayn said.
And he didn't. That whole night was a series of events, interrupted and
unconnected. “I was really fucking drunk man.”
“You know, I'm starting to think that Harry wasn't drunk like you were,” Louis
answered, handing over the joint. “He didn't go to the bar when we first got
there, he just kind of stood around with that Nick asshole, and then kept
flitting around people, but I don't remember seeing him with a cup at any
point. Or tossing back shots. He probably took some E and immediately went
looking for you.”
Zayn shrugged as he took a pull off the joint. He wasn't sure whether Harry
being high made a difference. If they were both fucked up on some shit, they
shouldn't have hooked up. And if one of them wasn't on something, then they
really, definitely shouldn't have. “I mean, I definitely don't remember feeling
guilty that it happened. I was the one doing him a favor. He did cry like when
it was ending but. I don't know.”
“You two have a fucking Marvin's Room relationship, I thought you were both
over this shit.”
Zayn had to shrug again. “I like Harry. I'll always like Harry. He's the one
who doesn't like me.”
“That's because he's in fucking love with you, you asshole,” Louis retorted.
“And any time the two of you start acting like you're both cool with being
friends, someone ends up getting sucked off in a bathroom. You're the adult,
quit pulling this shit.”
Zayn sighed, handing the blunt back over to Louis and burying his face in his
hands. “I don't do it on purpose! It just happened, and I can't even remember
it that well.”
“That's what you said when Rebecca caught your ass with Perrie, and then when
you knocked Perrie up and avoided the subject for months, and then again when
you hooked up with Jesy when Perrie was still in the hospital with your damn
kid,” Louis said, and his eyes blazed a moment with his anger. “For fuck's
sake, Zayn, start taking responsibility for the dumb shit you do. Things don't
just happen – you instigate an event and you commit to it so it occurs. It's
not like people fall onto your dick by happenstance!”
Zayn didn't even have anything to say to that. He knew Louis was right.
“Listen, I am always going to love you, Zayn. But Harry's my friend, too. We're
really good friends. It was bad enough that you had to go and get some girl
knocked up when you were with him, and I had to do so much damage control and
vouching for you. I'm not going to do some shit like that again. I've only just
started to get close to Liam, and like 80% of our conversations revolve around
you, and I refuse to lie to him about what kind of guy you are. So if you
really want him – which honestly, I can't even tell if you do or if you like
making him feel special by giving him free weed – you need to work on that. I'm
all for broes before hoes, but Liam is my bro, too.”
Zayn nodded. That was all fair. He never wanted to put Louis in a situation
where he felt like he had to choose between his friends, and even though Zayn
wanted Louis to pick him if it came down to it, Zayn realized that it was
really fucking unfair. Everything he had been doing to this little clique was
really fucking unfair. So Zayn just kind of smiled at Louis and whispered, “I'm
going to do better, man,” and hoped that this time, he really would.
 
It was an unseasonably warm day in February, and Zayn was enjoying the air
conditioning in his car as he drove down the freeway with Ali strapped into her
carseat in the back and Louis claiming shotgun up front. Zayn had finally
gotten his damn window fixed as well as a new stereo, and he was playing Usher
from a hook-up to his iPod. Louis was texting furiously on his phone, probably
to Harry, but Zayn didn't mind the quiet, instead letting the soft croons of “U
Remind Me” and the hum of his car quiet his busy brain. They pulled into the
mall parking lot, and Zayn pulled Ali's stroller out of the trunk while Louis
made silly faces at her in the car. As they made their way into Macy's, Zayn
caught Louis looking at him a little strangely.
“What?” Zayn asked defensively, adjusting the straps of his backpack and
gripping the handles of Ali's stroller.
“Just – you look so good with her,” Louis said, smiling. “I always forget how
great you are with her.”
Zayn shrugged, and tried to force down his own shit eating grin.
They walked through the mall, not really shopping but just meandering through
shops and letting Ali out for a bit to sit on those dumb little quarter rides
that made her shriek and clap her hands in glee. They stopped briefly at Build
A Bear and let Ali pick out a vaguely terrifying white-black-and purple teddy
bear before making their way to McDonalds. Zayn let Ali cuddle her bear while
he set out her Happy Meal on the table, laying out a napkin before pouring out
her chicken nuggets and fries and letting her get to it. Louis watched them
quietly, that same strange expression on his face, and Zayn glared at him
before turning to his own Big Mac.
“What?” Zayn asked around a mouthful of food.
“I can't look at you then?” Louis asked loudly, causing a few other customers
to swivel around and look at them. “I was just thinking.”
“Don't strain yourself,” Zayn murmured and Louis stuck his tongue out at him.
“No, just listen,” Louis said, his face shifting and becoming completely
serious. “Have you talked to Harry yet?”
Zayn sighed and leaned back in his seat. “No.”
“Do you have any intentions to?”
Zayn fidgeted, taking his hat off and shaking his hair out before putting his
hat back on and stifling another sigh. “Yes. Just – not now.”
“You know he's not mad,” Louis whispered. “Not really. He's just confused. He
knows that you and Liam have a thing – ”
“Liam and I do not have a thing – ”
“And whose fault is that?” Louis demanded, taking an angry sip of Coke. “It's
obvious to everyone that you and Liam are dancing around each other, and that's
fine. Harry just doesn't understand how he fits, and can you blame him? He's
been through this whole deal before, and you fucked him over royally.”
“He should just . . . not even bother with me,” Zayn mumbled. “I don't know why
he keeps coming back.”
“I don't think that's fair, Zayn, and you know it,” Louis said, rolling his
eyes. “You're the one who pulls him back.”
“I'll talk to him.” Zayn made a face at Ali when she looked up at him
inquisitively, sending her into a fresh set of giggles. “I just need time,
okay?”
Louis shrugged. “What about Liam?”
“What about Liam?”
“God, Zayn, sometimes talking to you is like pulling teeth,” Louis muttered,
rubbing his temple. “Are you going to talk to him? Like honestly, he's been
bitching at me for the past few weeks. Like he gets that we've made up because
that's what we do, but he's starting to feel rotten about what he said to you
the last two times you've been in the same room. Not that he should, you were
acting like a dick.”
Zayn sighed. “He's your friend, you tell him that we're all good.”
“Oh no, don't pull that shit. He's your friend now, too, you guys are both
capable of picking up a damn phone. So just fucking do it.”
So on Valentines Day Zayn sent Liam a Snapchat that he had literally slaved
over, a really detailed picture of Batman, and when Liam replied with a picture
of his face, eyes crinkled in a huge smile, Zayn figured he had done all right.
 
The next few weeks were full of rainy mornings and what seemed like
interminable shifts at Abercrombie and Fitch. Zayn had started regularly
texting Liam again, and it all seemed so rehearsed at this point, the intricate
dance they did around each other, flirtatious texts answered with sly smiley
faces, hints and promises of something more and yet it wasn't enough.
It was never really enough.
And so Zayn found himself hovering over Harry's name one day when he had parked
Ali in front of the television and opened a bottle of beer for himself while
lounging on the couch. He still hadn't talked to Harry, not in months, but the
soft buzz of alcohol and his own boredom were compelling him to be reckless,
telling that part of his brain that was moral and strangely reminiscent of
Louis' voice to shut the fuck up while he hit the call button and placed his
phone up to his ear.
Zayn didn't even have to hope that Harry would pick up. He just knew that Harry
would.
“I've missed you so much,” Zayn crooned, and it wasn't even that big of a lie.
 
Fucking Harry was like everything Zayn had forgot. Perrie was a great lay, the
mother of his child, and she could do this fucking wicked thing with her tongue
when she wasn't up to bouncing on top, but there was nothing like Harry Styles'
dick game. Zayn didn't really consider himself much of a bottom, and when he
was trying to get off in the shower he never really fingered himself,
preferring the quick tug over the orchestration of trying to get everything
clean before plunging in, but fuck, if Harry's cock didn't make him wanna have
a float at the San Francisco Pride Parade with “Harry Styles' Bottom” all over
the sides. Harry had a mouth that begged for deep throating, and he had no
qualms about eating some ass, turning Zayn into a quivering mess by the time he
finally, finally plunged in. Fucking Harry was always dirty and drawn out,
because Harry always wanted to get it just right, wanted to make sure he hit or
sucked or bit every single spot that got Zayn off, and Zayn was so glad that it
was Ali's nap time because he was practically caterwauling as Harry fucked him
doggy, pulling on his short hair and leaving awful marks that were going to be
a bitch to explain to Perrie – and Liam, fucking Liam, if he saw him soon.
But that was neither here nor there, not when Harry pulled Zayn's back flush
against him and sucked a mark onto the crook of his neck, still pounding
relentlessly as he chanted, “Mine, mine, mine” and it was just so hot, how
could Zayn forget it was this good? And all it took was an “I miss you” and
“Please come over” and “I haven't been with her in forever, I haven't even
fucked Liam, come on you know me, Harry.” Zayn wasn't sure if Harry was dumb,
or naïve, or just liked how good the sex was when it was served with a side of
emotional manipulation, but Zayn could almost come just from the power of it
all. Zayn had never juggled three people like this before, and it was kind of
intoxicating, wondering if Liam and Perrie were both thinking about him right
now, too, wherever the fuck they were, thinking about fucking him right now,
too, thinking that they had a shot at tying him down, too.
When Zayn came, shooting all over his and Perrie's couch, it was with a
strangled laugh.
 
Things were really good for a bit. He got a promotion at work, and was making
slightly more money even if it still wasn't a whole lot, Ali was becoming more
and more animated by the day, using “No” even more frequently now that she was
approaching her terrible two's, and Perrie was dating this new guy she met at
Starbucks but she was still up for a good cuddle most nights more often that
not. Things were going well with both Harry and Liam, too. He hadn't hung out
with both of them at once, but it didn't seem to be much of an issue as the two
were avoiding each other like the plague, from what Louis told him. Not that
Louis knew what Zayn was doing – dropping by Harry's house on his way home from
work most nights and then sexting Liam once he finally got back to his shitty
apartment. So April was mostly uneventful, the month humming along despite a
slight spike in Zayn's less legal adventures once 4/20 rolled around.
But with May came the first slow summer breezes, and the first even slower
signs that shit was about to go straight to hell.
 
It was just a dumb offhand comment, Zayn never should've taken it so far.
Perrie had stopped dating whatever guy she had been seeing. Apparently the guy
was all right with her having a kid, but thought it was really weird that
Perrie was still living with her baby daddy, which was kind of a valid concern.
Perrie figured it would be easier to just break it off, saying “He wasn't all
that good of a fuck, saved us all a lot of time to be honest,” as she settled
into bed one day, Ali having already passed out from sheer exhaustion after a
long day of being an absolute terror. Zayn pulled Perrie in close, snuggling
into the lavender scent that clung to her hair, and ran his hand along her
thigh, his fingers catching on the thin material of her underwear.
“Not tonight, love,” she murmured, even as she pushed her ass against his
increasingly interested crotch. “No more pussy until I get a ring on it,” she
joked.
“I'll marry you tomorrow if that means I get a taste,” Zayn snickered.
Perrie turned and looked at Zayn, her face struggling between a strangely
hopeful expression and a more guarded one. “You serious babes?”
“About me marrying you? Yeah sure, of course I would,” Zayn said, running his
fingers further inward along Perrie's thighs. “I've always said that – you
know. If neither of us find someone else – I'll take care of you. I love you
and you gave me the best gift a person can give.”
“I know we always said that if we couldn't find anyone else we would just marry
each other,” Perrie whispered, lowering her eyes. “But what if we just – marry
each other right now? We're already bonded for life, why not make it official?”
It was the kind of logic that only makes sense when you are nineteen-years-old
and lying in bed next to a warm, familiar body at one in the morning that is
slowly grinding against your dick. So Zayn nodded and caught Perrie's eager
lips with his own, shutting off every part of his brain that wasn't screaming
out the pleasure that Perrie's mouth, hands, and pussy brought him.
It was only later, the next morning in the shower as he tried to scrub Perrie's
juice from out of his scruff, that Zayn freaked out – not only did he hit it
raw even though he knew Perrie had stopped taking her pills – she said they
were making her sick and anxious – but he just told Perrie he would marry her.
And in the moment, he really fucking meant it.
Shit.
 
Zayn was probably in the middle of a crisis. There was once a time where he
would just call Harry up and give him a good dicking to get rid of some of that
edge, but Zayn knew that he couldn't do that. So he called Louis while he was
doing stock inventory of the back of the store.
“Louis, I'm in the middle of a crisis,” Zayn said the minute Louis picked up.
“Is Ali all right?”
“Yeah, yeah, she's fine, she's with her grandma,” Zayn said, rubbing a hand
along the back of his neck as he started to pace through the space cramped with
boxes of clothing and other merchandise. “I was just – I. Fuck. Last night
Perrie and I were talking and I might have proposed to her. Kind of.”
There was a long pause. Zayn held the phone away from his ear to make sure he
hadn't dropped the call when Louis finally responded. “How do you 'kind of'
propose to someone?”
“I don't know!” Zayn whined. “But I did. She made a joke and I just kind of –
God what do I do now?”
“Un-propose?”
“I can't do that. She looked so fucking happy when I said – shit. Louis what do
I do?”
Louis was quiet again. “You're just going to have to do whatever you think is
best. Either way someone is going to be hurt, right?”
“Right,” Zayn echoed, but Louis had already hung up.
 
Zayn went to talk to his mother about it, just to see how she felt about all of
it, and left with a modest ring that she had inherited from his grandmother.
That night he drew some bathwater for Perrie, helping her wash her hair when
she slipped into the warm water, and handed her the ring when she stepped out
to dry herself. Her entire face melted, going gooey and soft around her eyes,
and when they fucked on their bed, Perrie's skin still soft and damp from the
bath, he ignored the distant sound of his phone going off with texts. Later,
when Perrie was asleep, her hair a golden fan against her pillow, Zayn would
check his phone and feel his heart sink.
There, in a series of texts from Harry, was everything he wasn't prepared to
deal with:
 
“LOUIS TOLD ME EVERYTHING.”
“FUCK YOU, FUCK HER, AND FUCK EVERYTHING YOU'VE EVER TOLD ME.”
“YOU WORTHLESS ASSHOLE.”
“I SHOULD CALL HER AND TELL HER EVERYTHING, SEND HER ALL THOSE PICTURES YOU'VE
GIVEN ME, YEAH?”
“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME AGAIN????”
 
Zayn wanted to be angry at Louis, but he did recognize that Louis and Harry
were really good friends, too, with their own dynamic and their own loyalties,
and as far as Louis knew, he was just talking to Harry about a recent
development in their mutual friend's life. It was Zayn's fault – he had lied by
omission by not telling Louis that he and Harry were still hooking up, and he
had been dogging Harry for a few months – everything was just fucked up, and
Zayn and Harry had been through this rodeo before. Zayn didn't understand how
he was able to make the same fucking mistakes over and over again. He probably
was a bit crazy, thinking that things could be so good when it was obvious that
everything was going to go to shit.
 
Zayn couldn't sleep. Perrie seemed to think it was just nerves over the
engagement, but it didn't stop her from flashing her ring at anyone and
everyone, and picking up every bridal magazine she could and then posting about
it on Facebook. Zayn was sure he would've found it amusing if he wasn't in the
middle of a slowly building maelstrom.
Harry was texting him like clockwork every hour, never responding to Zayn's
pleas to meet up and talk it out, but instead sending Zayn the nastiest,
cruelest things he could think of. Mind, Harry wasn't a naturally cruel person,
so it read more like sulking childish insults than anything, but it still hurt
Zayn's feelings nonetheless. Louis wasn't responding to any of Zayn's attempts
at contact, and neither was Liam. Zayn assumed that Louis had also told Liam,
who was responding the way he usually did to things that made him upset – going
completely silent. Through a bit of stalking, Zayn had been able to find Liam's
twitter, and he found a few tweets that were vague but clearly about the entire
situation, and just – Zayn just felt like shit. He tried to talk to Danny about
it, but Danny had just put down his bowl and asked, “How do you always manage
to fuck things up so badly?” which wasn't really advice so much as a general
observation.
It wasn't really until June that Zayn was finally able to get a hold of Harry.
Zayn had called Harry back to back seventeen times, and Harry finally picked up
and said that Zayn could come over. Zayn strapped Ali into her carseat,
throwing some dolls into the backseat to keep her amused during the drive, and
headed over to Harry's house. Zayn parked right in front, taking Ali out of the
carseat and carrying her even though she was perfectly capable of walking
because he needed a buffer in case Harry wanted to swing at him. Zayn sent out
a quick one-handed text - “I'm outside” – before maneuvering Ali in his arms so
that he could ring the doorbell. Harry immediately answered – it looked like he
was sitting on a small stool right by the door – but he closed the door behind
him and stood on the porch instead of inviting Zayn in like he usually did.
Immediately, Zayn was on guard. There were certain things Harry just kind of
always did, even when he was upset – he always invited Zayn inside. He always
asked if Zayn needed water, or tea, or coffee, or juice. And throughout it all
Harry always looked at Zayn as though the moon and the planets all orbited
around him. That or he looked vaguely like he wanted to murder him, which was
unnerving but at least expected at this point. And he didn't look like that
now. Harry just looked uncomfortable, fidgeting constantly with the sleeve of
his shirt, and exhausted, even more run-down than the last few times they had
gotten into it.
"I can't keep doing this Zayn,” Harry whispered, his eyes red-rimmed when he
looked over at Zayn. He flinched a bit when his eyes skittered over Ali. “You
treat me like shit and I just let you."
"You think I treat you like shit?" Zayn spat. And he wasn't quite sure where
this anger was coming from, but he was upset, upset that Harry wasn't going to
invite him inside, or ask him for water, or tea, or coffee, or juice, or look
at him the way he used to. It was all too much and Zayn didn't want to listen
to that voice that was screaming, “You did this! You can only fuck with someone
for so long!” so instead he just got angry. "Well take this as a lesson in the
real world. What you feel right now is nothing."
Zayn knew that Harry understood the subtext, understood that what Zayn was
really saying was that Harry and their entire relationship – all of it was
nothing, that Harry needed to get over these inconvenient feelings so they
could go back to the comfort of fucking. It was the cruelest thing Zayn could
think of saying, and he knew immediately that it hit home. Harry turned, a
nasty smile on his face, and walked back into his house.
Harry and Zayn's relationship finally ended with the quiet snick of a door
closing.
 
Things didn't really get any better after that.
 
Zayn was still reeling from his fight with Harry when he ran into Liam at a
party. Louis wasn't there, and Niall was out of town for a big family vacation
to Ireland, so Zayn was a bit surprised to see Liam with this guy, Andy, that
Zayn kind of only knew distantly. Zayn asked Liam if he could talk with him
privately, so they found a quiet space in the back of whoever's house it was.
Zayn offered Liam his usual stash, and Liam turned it down with a curt shake of
his head, before turning away and taking a deep breath.
“You're not going to like what I have to say to you right now,” Liam said.
“No, I suppose not,” Zayn acknowledged, scuffing his feet against the ground a
bit.
“Well, I'm just going to cut to the chase then.” Liam scoffed, a wry smile
twisting his usually friendly countenance. “You think I'm gonna want to date
you after all this? Why would I want you after how I've seen how you treat
Harry? And your baby mama – I mean fiancee?”
"I wouldn't do you like you do them – ”
"Number one – how do I know that? Number two – how can you even put some shit
like that out there? And number three – you already fucking have.” Liam sighed
and stared at Zayn, his brown eyes uncharacteristically cold. "As long as I've
known you there's been nothing but drama. I just can't. I really can't. I
thought you were so mature and worldly, I have no idea why, now. I thought
you'd have your shit together since you have a kid, and obviously you're a good
dad but you treat everyone else like crap. I'm starting to think you're
emotionally stuck at sixteen or something, and I'm not like them – I don't want
to fight for someone who has no interest in fighting for me or even learning
anything about me. You've never asked me what I want to study, or about my
family, or even about my life before I moved out here, really. And yet I know
everything about you, even though you're supposed to be this mysterious guy.
You're an open book, Zayn. I don't know who or what jaded you and made you this
manipulative asshole but I'd punch them right now for creating the empty,
shallow child that you are now, and probably always will be."
It was probably the most Liam had ever said to Zayn. They had shared a lot of
quiet looks and verbal exchanges, and they had a few long conversations over
text but Zayn was starting to see just how much he didn't know about Liam, if
the surprise he felt from this outburst meant anything. And how much Liam was
right. Zayn hadn't put in a lot of effort to get to know Liam, instead opting
to play this weird run around game that he did not even seem to have enough in
to win.
"Please." And Zayn was begging, was beginning to wonder if getting on his knees
would be doing too much. "Please just let me show you that I can do it right –
that I could treat you right."
Liam rolled his eyes and the small movement was like a thousand tiny pinpricks
into Zayn's ego. "You can do whatever you want, babe. Just don't expect me to
swoon over your every move. Because I am honestly and truly over it."
“I'll fight for you,” Zayn said and he could tell now that he was grasping at
straws. “I will make you see – I will make you want me.”
Liam smiled, and it was the small accommodating expression of an adult humoring
a child. “All right, Zayn.”
 
When Harry had left, Zayn had called and called and felt his stomach tie itself
into knots because usually Harry was so predictable, and yet he wasn't picking
up when generally he did. But overall it had been a clean break – Harry severed
all contact with Zayn and even Louis, and apparently filled Niall in to the
details, so that Zayn had to endure Niall's angry wrath – which was terrifying
– for a few weeks before even they were cool. When Liam called it quits, he
left his imprint everywhere, Zayn felt like he could feel Liam's lingering
touch in his car, on his clothes, on his bones. And Zayn kept seeing him
everywhere – he was still really good friends with Louis and Niall, and got
along with Danny and everyone else Zayn knew – and it wasn't like Zayn and Liam
didn't talk when they encountered each other at parties, but Liam was always so
cordial, so frustratingly distant. Zayn consistently felt on the verge of
tears, wanted so desperately to show Liam that he had changed, wanted to scream
it at Liam from the rooftops when he broke off the engagement with Perrie and
started looking for a new place, when he finally fucking enrolled in his GED
classes and started working on getting his life together.
Even months later, when he got his certificate and was looking at college,
dropping Ali off at Perrie's mom's place because Perrie had decided to move
back home, a catalog for the University of California in his backpack even
though he knew a community college was the more practical option – Zayn still
wanted to call Liam and yell, “See? I'm getting it together! I haven't cheated,
I'm going to school, I'm becoming an adult!”
But Zayn knew somewhere deep down that it was all too late, and tried to ignore
that insidious voice that always whispered that he was wasting his time trying
to change when it probably never would have worked out in the first place.
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you for reading.
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