Know Your Enemy

I was ready to deck Clara again after Harlow stormed out. My nails dug so hard into my palms as I clenched my fists that it stung. A loud huff flew past my lips, and I took one step back towards Clara.

“If I even catch a glimpse of your face on Monday, I swear I’ll-” She looked at me with hard eyes, waiting for me to go on. Her chin was already starting to bruise from my last punch. I smirked slightly at it before my eyes met hers again. With a shake of my head, I turned around.

From what I could hear, Louis pulled Clara out of the house, and they left. Every single person’s eyes were on me while I raked my fingers through my hair in aggravation.

Niall had gone to get Zayn while I was throwing punches at Clara and helped him stand up right. Both of them kept their mouths shut. The click of my heels as I made my way out the door was the only sound in the whole house.

I quickly walked to the car and waited for Niall to bring Zayn around. I started it up and stretched over to open the passenger’s side door. A few seconds later, Zayn plopped down beside me, and Niall shut the door for him. Still looking forward, I rolled down Zayn’s window.

“Do you need a ride home, or are you staying?”

“Uh, no, I’m leaving, but I’ll get-”

“Niall, just get in the car,” I replied curtly.

“Got it,” he said quickly as he hopped in the back. Frazzled, I tossed my shoes in the backseat, and Niall dodged them.

The ride to Niall’s house wasn’t long, but it was also very, very quiet. Zayn would occasionally glance over at me. I couldn’t tell if that was him drunk and wondering what the fuck even happened or if he was actually concerned. It was a toss-up.

I pulled up at the front of Niall’s house, and he got out. He leaned over to look through Zayn’s window.

“Don’t kill me, but you kicked ass tonight,” he said with a laugh. Zayn lightly smirked, and I shot them both a dangerous look. Niall bit down on his lip and waved while he slowly backed up towards the house.

Ten minutes later, I got to my place, a little blue house nestled on the corner. I helped Zayn up the steps to the small farmer’s porch. The house needed a paint job, but it was home. I got Zayn inside, and when I looked up, I noticed the refrigerator light streaming across the floor from the kitchen into the living room.

I grabbed Zayn, beelined it for my room, and shut the door as quietly as I could. He grabbed an extra pillow and blanket from the floor and collapsed on my bed. I rolled my eyes and pushed him over a bit so I could get some actual breathing space. He was out in seconds.

There were some clean clothes placed at the end of my bed. I grabbed a pair of pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt and quickly changed. My back ached when I reached up to tie my hair back. I winced and carefully climbed into bed. The scratch under my eye from Clara stung a bit. I was itching to wash my face off, but the bathroom was too far, and I was pretty sure my dad was still up. That meant if he saw me, then would come the questions that I didn’t have the patience to answer, especially that night.



The sun harshly poured through the windows the next morning. There was a thud from the kitchen that jolted me awake. I shot up and turned to see that Zayn was nowhere to be found. Getting out of bed way too fast for my own good, my hand immediately went to my back. Memories from the night before came back quicker than I would’ve wanted them to.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a look at myself in the mirror in the hall as I passed it. I backtracked a few steps and winced at my appearance. I could have easily passed for a beaten up raccoon. I never understood how someone could look so awful in the morning. Something very, very bad must happen in the middle of the night for me to wind up looking like a wild animal every time I got up in the morning.

After trekking into the kitchen, I saw that no one but me was in there. I stepped into the living room and, through the window, I could see that Zayn’s car was still parked outside. Then, I saw feet hanging off the arm of the couch. I stepped up behind the couch and looked over. The kid was passed out.

“How goes it, sleeping beauty?” I said, just loud enough to startle him.

He stared at me, wide eyed, as he rubbed his forehead. “You look-”

“You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’, Malik,” I answered with dagger eyes.

He shut his eyes again and mumbled, “I was going to get a drink, but then I ended up here.” He shrugged and rested his forearm over his eyes.

“The hangover’s treatin’ you great, I see,” I snapped. “You’re lucky my dad already left for work.” I pushed his feet off the arm of the couch so I could sit. He gave me a confused look, sat up and reached for my face. “Is that blood on your face...?”

I slapped his hand away, “Do you remember anything from last night?!” He covered my mouth and motioned for me to quiet down. The look on his face that followed gave me the impression that what happened had come back to him.

“Damn... did you get some punches in there?”

I glared at him. “Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t know because you were drunk off your ass.”

“Easy there, champ.”

I sighed and slipped into an armchair beside the couch.

“How’d your new best friend take it?” he said, purposely making a dig against me.

I tossed a pillow at him and said, “Well, it went great. Apparently, I’m supposed to ‘stay the fuck away from her’,” using air quotes around Harlow’s words.

His brows pushed together, and he was quiet for a minute.

“Do you think it’s weird that I have no friends that are girls? I mean, this always happens.”

“I wouldn’t think about it too much,” he shrugged, getting up and heading for the kitchen. “Come on.”

I followed after him. He hoisted himself up on the counter as I browsed through the shelves in the refrigerator. “Can you make me somethin’?”

“Do I look like a housewife?”

My mom walked into the kitchen shortly after. I could tell she had just taken her rollers out, the way her red curls hit above her shoulders. She had a small frame, and I had her beat, height-wise. She carefully looked at my face. She was definitely waiting for Zayn to leave before she called me on it.

She gave Zayn a look, and he hopped off the counter. “Lana, pour him some orange juice.” She always seemed to know everything and never failed to abide by the whole “Southern hospitality” stereotype. It must have skipped a generation.

“Yes, baby the kid with hangover,” I muttered under my breath as I got Zayn a glass of orange juice. I handed it over to him, and he silently sipped from it.

“Please tell me you weren’t the one to drive back here last night.”

Zayn shook his head at her.

“No, I drove,” I piped up.

“Good.”

There were a few moments of silence, and Zayn chugged the rest of his drink. He placed it in the sink and said, “I should get going. Thanks, Mrs. Hayes.”

She gave him a small smile. “No problem. Get some sleep, Zayn.”

“Yeah, I will. Lana, where are the keys?”

I grabbed his keys from my room and walked outside with him. Zayn got my shoes out of the back seat and handed them over to me. “I could talk to Harry if you want. You know, get Harlow to lighten up.”

“No, don’t.”

“So damn stubborn. Alright, well, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright.” I waved and walked back towards the house.

I pulled open the screen door and walked back to the kitchen. “Next time, Zayn’s on the couch.”

“Mom, you honestly think I wanted to share a bed with him? Princess took up basically the whole thing.”

She laughed at that one. “Lana, what happened last night?” She put a hand to my face.

“Mom, it’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

I groaned. “It’s just a scratch. I’ll clean it off now, okay? I’m going.”

As I slipped out of her grasp, she let out a small sigh in defeat. I went into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I started washing the scratches made by Clara’s nails and taking all the leftover makeup off my face. While I did that, the thought of walking into that school Monday morning clouded my mind.