Love is Blind

The moment I walked into the coffee shop, my nose was filled with the scent of a freshly brewed mocha cappuccino. Even though it was my least favorite flavor, the smell brought a smile to lips. It was Zayn’s favorite, and my mind immediately raced to thoughts of the thousand times he’d asked me to pick one up on my way to see Harry. He didn’t care if I was running late and Harry and I had reservations; he still wanted his coffee, and I always brought it to him.

At first, I’d only brought it to get on his good side. After all, there was no better way to get into a guy’s heart than through his best friend. But after a while, I did it simply because I wanted to. The only thing better than the smile on Zayn’s face when he took that first sip was the hug Harry wrapped me in after I gave it to him.

It only took a few seconds for my train of thoughts to stop back at Harry, and the smile fell from my lips the moment it did. It wasn’t fair that he was still able to hurt me so bad, even though I wasn’t near him. It wasn’t fair that the friendships I had with the other boys were ruined because he wasn’t ready for a public relationship. There were so many things that weren’t fair, that would never be fair.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to right all of those wrongs our break-up had created, starting with Zayn. I pulled my phone from my pocket, as I approached the counter and ordered the biggest mocha cappuccino the café had. I was fully prepared to push down the entire cup of the disgusting drink until my stomach couldn’t take it anymore.

When the beautiful barista passed me the cup, I took a quick photo of it with my phone. Tapping my finger against the screen, I pressed out a quick text, my hands shaking the entire time I did it.

To: Zayn
Look familiar?

After attaching the photo of the cup to the text, I clicked the send button before I had a chance to second guess myself. I could only hope that Harry wasn’t around Zayn to see the text. If he was, he was sure to rip my throat out, or at the very least, murder Zayn and bury him in Central Park.

I pressed the cup to my lips, the warm liquid hitting them but not passing through. I couldn’t bring myself to take a full sip.

There’s something so strange about scent. I’d once heard that of all the sense, it was the most nostalgic. Scent could bring back feelings that nothing else could. At that moment, I believed. All I could feel was the intense pain I’d felt the moment Harry broke up with me. Tears stung my eyes but I pushed them back with a deep breath.

From inside my pocket, I felt the soft buzz of my phone. I hadn’t really expected a text back, so when I get one, it sent my heart racing. It could’ve been from anyone – from my mom, my sister, or one of my friends – but I knew it wasn’t. It was either Harry ripping my head off or Zayn saying whatever few choice words he had.

I was afraid, so afraid, far too afraid of something as simple as a text. From behind the counter, the barista gave me an odd stare and I wiped my shocked expression off my face. My hand gripped my phone before my mind could stop it, and I slowly brought the device to my face.

Across the screen, Zayn Malik’s name flashed over and over, shouting at me to read the text. Through closed lips, I let out a long breath. Whatever Zayn had to say wouldn’t be near as bad as anything Harry would have.

Sliding my fingers across the screen, I unlocked my phone, successfully filling it with the text message.

You remembered :)

My heart began thudding in my chest. I had sent the text fully intending on repairing my broken friendship with Zayn, but now that the opportunity was right in front of me, something about it seemed so terrifying.

I had thought to myself a thousand times that I was over Harry. I’d thought that I didn’t care about him anymore and that he could no longer hurt me. That was only wishful thinking. Just one text from Zayn brought my thoughts back to Harry. Even his happy little text with a smiley faced attached brought a small sinking feeling to my stomach. I hated that Harry made me doubt everything so much. He had left me so different from the person I was before I met him.

I pushed my phone back into my pocket, leaving the text to sit against my leg. I couldn’t talk to Zayn. I thought I could, but I just couldn’t. It brought back too many memories.

Pressing my hands against the café door, I stepped out of the coffee shop as quickly as I could. The cold New York air helped to calm my nerves, but only slightly. It wasn’t enough to give me the confidence to talk to Zayn but it helped.

With one hand against my phone within my pocket and the other wrapped around my cup of awful cappuccino, I kept my gaze locked on the sidewalk. It was easy to zone out in New York. All you had to do was follow the crowd. They’d stop at the appropriate times and you would turn when they would. It was easy.

My phone buzzed again, sending a shockwave through my body. It pulsed against my leg over and over. Even though the vibrating had stopped, I still felt it.

I didn’t realize that I had stopped walking, but the people pushing behind me reminded me that I had. I slipped quickly to the other side of the walkway to lean against one of the cities large skyscrapers.

Taking a deep breath, I attempted to will my confidence back to me. It was just a text. It was just a phone. Harry was just a boy. There was nothing to be worried about. There was nothing to be afraid of. He’d already broken up with me. No matter what happened or what he had to say, that was already done. He’d already taken the other boys away from me and crushed the tiny friendships I had with them. There was nothing else he could do to hurt me.

I pulled out my phone, staring at the screen. It was Zayn again.

Stay right there.

Before I had a chance to respond with the ‘what’ I had planned, a hand pressed against my shoulder, startling me so bad I nearly jumped from my shoes.

“Ava.”

My eyes pushed up, immediately meeting Zayn’s dark ones. He had a large grin on his face that showed off his perfectly with teeth. Seeing him again wasn’t as frightening as I had thought it would be, and I was thankful for that.

“Zayn,” I said, shoving my phone back into my pocket. “What are you doing here?”

“I recognized the cup,” he said, pointing to the cappuccino in my hand. “My apartment’s just above here.”

I looked up at the large skyscraper I was leaning against. Of course, he and the boys lived a fancy place like that. It was nearly identical to the one I lived in with my parents and was nothing short of expected.

There was a long pause, neither of us sure what to say. Conversation with Zayn used to be easy. It was something that happened so naturally but that had disappeared the moment Zayn watched me run away from Harry crying. He’d been on the sofa watching television, while I was in Harry’s bedroom getting my heart shattered. When I had walked out of that room, I wasn’t able to make eye contact with him and I’m sure he was thankful for that.

His eyes were locked on mine the entire time we stood there. I didn’t know how much longer I could take the silence, but I knew it wouldn’t be for long.

Biting my lip, I passed him the warm cup of mocha cappuccino that he loved so dearly. He smiled at me and took the big, long sip I was unable to take. A smile graced his lips the whole time and that one look made the entire painful moment worth it.

“Good, yes?”

Zayn nodded his head, as he pressed the cup to my lips. He was going to force me to drink it. He had done it several times when Harry and I were dating and I hated every moment of it. Letting out a sigh, I wrapped my hands against the cup and took the smallest sip that I could.

“Good, yes?” Zayn said, as my lips turned into a frown. “I know it’s your favorite.”

Rolling my eyes, I pushed the cup back against his chest. “You know me so well.”

He smiled again, the largest grin I had seen in days, before his gaze fell down. His eyes locked on his pants pocket and he pulled his phone slowly from it. I watched as he fiddled with it for a few seconds, before turning his attention back to me.

“Ava,” he said, pushing his phone back to him pocket. “I’ve gotta run.”

I nodded my head. I was more than used to the sudden disappearances. I had dated Harry, after all.

“I’ll see you around, though?”

It was more of a question than a statement, almost as if he wasn’t sure we would. I hoped that I’d see him again, but like him, I couldn’t be certain.

Zayn was good. He was sweet and kind, just like he’d always been when I was with Harry. He reminded me that dating Harry wasn’t all bad. There were some good parts to it. And he made me want those parts back.