Stupid Boy

Becky hadn’t really been scared of much before, but the door two feet from her seemed like something out of a nightmare. It was an inanimate object that she had no reason to be afraid of, but the idea of what was behind it made her want to cry. With much help from Zayn’s sister, Becky had found out where he lived. It took her nearly five days to gather up the courage to go to his apartment complex, but now she found herself standing outside his door.

She had nothing prepared. She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him, or even why she was standing where she was. She’d stood in front of her mirror that morning, going over things she could say to him, but all of that slipped from her mind as she stared at the numbers on his door. The only words that came to her mind were along the lines of “fuck you.” Not even that could accurately describe her feelings towards him, feelings she wasn’t even sure of yet.

“Do it,” she encouraged herself, lifting her hand in the air. It stopped just shy of the door, her heart beating so fast she wasn’t sure how it hadn’t stopped yet.

The sound of a voice on the other side of the door had her stopping, and backing away from the door. And then he was there, three feet away from her. Zayn stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Becky, and she saw someone collide into his back. “What the hell?” a voice asked Zayn, but he paid no attention to them. His eyes were locked on Becky and weren’t looking away.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I didn’t realize you had company,” her voice was soft as she spoke, her fingers intertwining with her own.

“It’s just Harry,” Zayn mused.

“’Lo, Becky,” Harry flashed her a smile, showing off his dimples. “Nice to see you again.”

“Same to you,” she smiled, making Zayn’s heart race. He hadn’t seen that smile in over a year. “I’ll just go now.”

“Please don’t,” Zayn found himself speaking up.

“I’ll be the one going,” Harry said, a bit awkwardly. “See you tomorrow, Zayn. Bye, Becky.”

The two smiled at the curly haired boy before finally looking at each other. It seemed like an eternity passed, the two of them just staring at each other. “Do you want to come in?” he finally asked.

Becky regained her thought process as Zayn finally spoke and before she realized what she was doing, her hand was flying to his face, leaving a bright red mark where her hand landed on his cheek. A million things to say to him were flying through her head, but she couldn’t speak any of them. His gaze was still on her, his hand now resting where she’d smacked him. “I was so fucking stupid for letting you tell me to give up my dream, but you were stupid for asking me to,” she finally said, her voice low.

“I know,” he whispered back to her.

She seemed to lose her steam as he said those two words to her. She had spent a year thinking he didn’t care what he asked her to do, and her hate rested solely on that. The look in his eyes told her he was full of regret, and guilt.

“If I ask you to come in are you going to slap me again?”

She bit back a smile and shook her head. “I just… needed to see you. We never really got to say goodbye,” she was gazing right at him as she spoke, nothing about his demeanor changing as she spoke. “I just don’t want to hate you anymore. I want to be happy, and I want you to be happy, you know? You deserve that. I mean, God, Zayn, look at your life now,” she said, making him shrug. “World famous pop star living his dream with his four best friends? You have it all, huh?”

“It could look that way. Money, fame, friends. But what does any of that matter when you don’t have someone you love to come home to? It doesn’t mean anything when I don’t have anyone to share this with.”

“You’ll find her,” Becky assured him.

“I already found her,” he whispered, making her gaze drop to her shoes, “but I fucked that up royally. I know you hate me, but I think I hate myself more.”

“Don’t,” she told him, looking back up at him. He reached up, brushing her bangs off her face. “Take care of yourself, okay? Stop smoking.”

He laughed quietly, shaking his head. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Before she realized what she was doing, she was gripping his shirt in her hands and kissing him. He grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against him. When they pulled away, they were both breathing heavy, his eyes clouded as he looked down at her. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she murmured, more to herself than him.

He couldn’t help but laugh, his chest shaking against her hands. “I should get going,” she finally concluded, backing away from him. They looked at each other for another moment before she was walking down the hallway. She allowed herself to look at Zayn, who was leaning against his door frame, one more time as she waited for the elevator. She saw him mouth I love you before she was in the elevator.

The moment she was in her car, Becky broke down. She’d come to Zayn’s prepared to say goodbye, to say she never wanted to see him again. Now, as she cried against her steering wheel, she wanted to do nothing more than run back to him and tell him she still loved him. “Fuck,” she sobbed, using her shirt to wipe away her tears.

She finally mad her way home and found Meghan ready with wine and a carton of ice cream. “That well, huh?” the brunette frowned.

“I thought I’d be able to say goodbye, to still hate him,” Becky said, sitting on the couch, pulling her knees up to his chest. “But obviously nothing can go my way.”

Meghan frowned, handing her a glass of wine and a spoon. “I have a stack of really stupid movies to watch if you’re up for it.”

Becky nodded and the two settled in, Meghan turning on the first movie. Becky was zoned out before the movie even started her mind on Zayn. She felt more tears, and took a drink of her wine before grabbing the ice cream from Meghan. It was going to take a lot of wine to make her forget about Zayn.