Two Way Street

I was sitting alone in my flat, staring blankly at the telly, trying my hardest to focus on it. But my mind kept slipping back to my conversation with Mara earlier, how she urged me to give Zayn another chance, to let him explain himself.

I tried my hardest to fight against it, mouthing along with an episode of Friends that I pretty much knew by heart. Come on, I whispered to myself, stop thinking about Zayn.

But, finally, at the end of the episode, I got to my feet, threw on a jumper, and ran out the door.

The streets were deserted, since it was nearly midnight, but that just made it easier to get to Zayn’s without incident. Because I would have loved to talk to fans and take pictures and things, but not so much when I was on a mission.

Soon enough, I found myself standing in front of the door to Zayn’s flat. I was poised to knock, my hand a mere centimeter from the door. My mind wouldn’t let me take the leap, though.

Finally, I drew my head back and closed my eyes, rapping my knuckles against the door a few times, very quickly, before taking about three steps back to make sure I wouldn’t crowd the door when he answered.

“What are you doing coming over so late?” Zayn asked, his tone irritated, as he pulled open the door.

When he registered that I was standing in front of him, his face went from annoyed to completely blank. “Liam,” he stated plainly.

I was bursting at the seams to apologize to him, but I swallowed back my words and instead questioned, “Can I, um, come in?”

His dark eyebrows pulled together, but he stepped to the side wordlessly, admitting me into his flat.

My eyes scanned the area, and I put on a smile, turning to face him. “Did you clean today?”

“A little bit,” he admitted, shrugging. “The place was a mess, and my best friend was ready to slit my throat, so what else was I going to do?”

And good mood gone.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Look, Zayn…” I trailed off. Walking over, I thought I knew exactly what I was going to say, but once the time actually came to make my speech, the words had completely dissipated. I was on my own.

Zayn stared at me, his eyes almost seeming to mock me, as I searched for what I wanted to say.

“I was talking to Mara earlier, and I get it.”

“Oh, yeah,” he butted in, cutting me off from my train of thought, “she said she’d talk to you about it.”

“Yeah, she did.” I shook my head, trying to get back the words I had finally figured out. “But that’s…kind of not the point right now. I just wanted to tell you that I get it.”

“You already said that.”

I let out a laugh that sounded a little struggled, since I was trying to hold it back. “Stop interrupting me! You’re making my brain short-circuit.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

I shot him a look, but inside, I was happy. Even though I hadn’t even apologized yet, Zayn and I were already acting like friends again. “I know that you were in a rough position, having to choose between Louis and me. I was just…I guess I was hurt because you chose Louis over me.”

“I know I shouldn’t have, mate. ‘Cause you were right. We are best friends. And I’m sorry that I threw the Mara thing back in your face.”

I shrugged. “It’s a mistake I made, and you had a point.” A grin spread across my face as I added, “A weak one, but a point either way.”

Zayn smiled back at me and opened his arms. “Come here, man.”

Laughing, I walked over to him and hugged him. We both smacked each other the back a couple of times. “I love you, mate,” I told him seriously.

“You, too,” he reciprocated. Then, pulling away, he smoothed down his shirt. “Alright, that’s enough mushy stuff.”

I chuckled as he went back to his living room, settling into his chair. I sat down next to it on the floor, sitting Indian-style.

“So what’s going on with you and Mara now?” Zayn started, turning off the telly and turning himself so he could face me better.

I let out a breath. “I don’t even know. We tried talking about it earlier, but she’s just really confused. I told her that I’d let her take her time. I mean, I don’t want to rush her into something that she might not be ready for.”

Zayn nodded. “That sounds like the sensible Liam I know.”

There was a short silence before he chuckled. “But you really want her to be your girlfriend, don’t you?”

I felt my face heat up with a blush. “Well…yeah, of course I do. I mean, everything’s all backward with us. I never thought that I’d sleep with a girl before we had been together a while. And then…Mara came along and just turned everything onto its head.”

Zayn’s face broke into a giant smile. “Wow, Liam. You’re so ridiculously in love with her.”

“I’m not in love with her,” I protested. I realized I might have sounded a bit like a stubborn child, but I didn’t care. “I just…like her. A lot.”

“A lot a lot,” he emphasized.

“I can’t be in love with her when we haven’t even been together.”

“Okay.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying not to chuckle. “I feel like you’re patronizing me.”

“Me?” He pointed to his chest, his eyes widening with innocence. “Nope. No patronizing here.”

“There you go again!”

“Nope.”

I finally burst out laughing, shaking my head. “I hate you sometimes.”

“I’m just glad you mean that in an endearing way again.”

“Me, too. Being angry at you is hard work.” I leaned back on my hands and crossed my legs. “Takes way too much energy.”

“Oh, you poor boy.” Zayn leaned forward and patted me a couple times on the head. Chuckling lightly, I shoved his hand away.

For the rest of the night, we sat around, talking about Mara, about the Louis situation, about everything. Around three AM, he ended up falling asleep mid-sentence in his chair.

Snickering, I went into his room, grabbed a pillow, and went to sleep on the floor next to him.

As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but think about how happy I was that I had my best friend back.