Taking Chances

I curled up on the couch with my laptop, starting Ed Sheeran’s CD on my iTunes, letting it play softly in the background while I bummed around on the internet.

At first, I just clicked around on different websites, not knowing what I wanted to do to pass my time.

Eventually, I took a deep breath and logged onto Tumblr, knowing that I had a shitload of posts waiting for me. It had been about an eternity since I’d been on the site, and quite a few of the blogs I followed reblogged about a million posts a day.

I scrolled through, laughing at quite a few pictures and GIFs, feeling great for the first time in a week. It was shocking, how wonderful a website could make me feel after a week of moping.

Not that I didn’t still feel hurt about my argument with Zayn. We hadn’t spoken at all since the blowout, both of us too stubborn or proud to admit weakness. Sometimes, the horrible things he said to me would come rushing back into my head, the argument replaying until I was in tears. But that typically happened at night, when I was trying to get to sleep. During the day, I made sure to keep myself busy enough to keep the thoughts away.

After about an hour of scrolling through the various pages, I was about to exit out when I saw a post from someone titled “OH MY GOD ZAYN MALIK”.

My curiosity got the best of me, and I clicked on the small link below that prompted “See more.”

It opened up a text post about how proud this girl was of Zayn for standing up against the people who had sent him hate, since he’d remained silent for so long, simply taking whatever got sent to him.

But there was one part in particular that caught my attention. I think it’s sweet that he cares so much about Bailey. I know there are a lot of people out there who feel that they’re not the greatest couple, but I think it’s obvious that they really do love each other. And if that’s true, then we should act like real Directioners and support them completely, just like we used to support Liam and Danielle, as well as Louis and Eleanor, before their nasty breakups.

I swallowed. What was she talking about? I hadn’t seen any tweets from Zayn firing back at haters.

Again, my nosiness consumed me, and I found myself going on to Twitter for the first time in a while, going straight to Zayn’s profile without scrolling through the tweets I’d received in my lengthy absence.

Thanks to the fact that Zayn was not by any means an avid tweeter, I found the TwitLonger post within a few seconds.

My right thumb nail found its way into my mouth, a short lock of hair falling into my face, as I read the post intently, Give Me Love scoring the scene.

My first reaction was shock. Zayn had actually used proper grammar in his retort to the hate. That sounded mean, but it was the truth.

Okay, so I’m going to take a kind of cue from my friend Harper and respond to a lot of the tweets I’ve been getting lately. Some of them have been the same things I’ve always gotten, like hatred over my Pakistani heritage or my Muslim faith. But I’m not going to touch upon those right now. What’s worrying me more are the tweets that are attacking my relationship with Bailey Austin.

I know that “fans” sending hate to the girls that go out with us boys is not a new thing. It’s been happening since the beginning. But lately, people seem to have realized that Bailey no longer looks at her Twitter feed, and they’ve been sending their rude, pointless comments to me.

I want to get some things straight. Bailey is NOT a snob because she doesn’t respond to fans anymore. She can’t bear to look at all the hatred that she gets, and you guys put that on yourselves. She DOES care about her fans, even if she’s not able to tell each and every one of you that.

Now I’m going to touch upon the downright CRUEL things that are being said. Bailey’s not ugly or fat or untalented or anything like that. She’s the most beautiful, selfless, innocent, purely good person that I’ve ever met in my life. Her voice is better than any others I’ve heard. And to the people who tell me, probably thinking that they’re doing me a favor, that Bailey’s not good enough for me have it backwards. I’M not good enough for HER. I’m lucky that she’s ever given me a shot, never mind two.

Alright, that’s my two cents, guys. I hope that you all have a lovely day and think twice before you send me another tweet bashing on my girlfriend.

I read it about five times, completely in shock at all the wonderful things he said about me. My eyes lingered on that last word, tears welling up and spilling down my cheeks.

A sob escaped my throat, and I reached up, covering my mouth, trying to stifle the sound.

If he felt so strongly about me, then why hadn’t he called? Or simply come over to make things right? Why was he doing that, standing up for me against strangers, but not having the balls to make up with me?

I buried my face in my hands, the word “girlfriend” burned into the inside of my eyelids.

I missed him. A lot. And no matter how many cruel things he said to me, how angry he made me, how pushy he was for sex, I still loved him. I still wanted to be with him.

It took every ounce of willpower inside myself to keep from getting up and running all the way to his apartment. In the end, I looked down at myself, with my baggy sweatpants, old and oversized t-shirt, and greasy hair in a ponytail, and realized that I was not really dressed or prepared for a dramatic make up scene.

“Bailey?” Rebecca questioned, poking her head out of her room. “Are you okay? What’s happening out here?”

I blushed, realizing that my crying must have been loud enough to carry through her closed door. “Just…” I struggled for words for a minute before sighing. “Alright, I can’t explain it. Come over here.”

“Um, I’m kind of in the middle of a chapter for history…” she trailed off, sneaking a peek at her desk, which was surely covered with school materials.

“It’ll only take a second,” I promised, leaning forward and extending my laptop to her.

She gave in, coming over and sitting next to me, pulling the laptop onto her legs. Her eyes got wider and wider as she read the passage, almost bulging out of her head by the end. “Wow,” she breathed. “That’s…”

I waited, expecting something more, but she seemed at a lot for words.

“What do I do?” I whined before grabbing my bottom lip between my teeth. “We’re supposed to be in this huge fight, and he hasn’t apologized, but then he writes something like that? I just…I don’t know what to say.”

“What do you feel like doing?” she asked wisely.

I swallowed, blinking back another wave of tears that were threatening to fall. “Going over to his apartment, throwing my arms around him, and telling him that everything’s okay.”

“But think about that. You weren’t the only one that was angry this time, remember? You said he yelled at you and said some really mean things.”

“But the post!” I argued, but she cut me off with a shake of her head.

“That doesn’t mean he’s not still angry about the things you said about him. It just shows that, deep down, he still loves and cares about you, no matter what hurtful things he said.”

I thought about that for a second and saw the reasoning in it. “So,” I started, wiping off my face and sniffling a bit, “what do I do?”

Rebecca shrugged. “That’s up to you, not me.” Then, after a second of thought, she added, “but whatever you decide should probably wait until morning. Because it’s nearly one thirty.”

I looked at the clock and laughed. “Good point. I’ll sleep on it.”