Why Me?


20. Zayn's Arrival

Zayn's P.O.V.

I hate myself knowing I couldn't make it to Sammy's birthday. It makes me feel like I just killed somebody. "What's up, Bradford Bad Boy?" Louis said, trying to cheer me up. I smiled weakly at him, hoping it would work. Apparently it didn't work. "Hey, what's wrong, Zayn?" Niall asked, his faced filled with Nandos. I just walked away. Today was the day I return home.

Sammy's P.O.V.

Zayn was coming home today. I didn't want him to come home because he skipped my birthday and Louis is the only one I can trust. Not. Zayn. Whatever, Cassandra was in Louis's room, waiting for him to come in there. I stayed in my room with Maya and Gabi, watching Jaws, like I did with Liam. I heard the front door open, with five voices following. "Remember, Sammy, all of us will not talk to Zayn," Gabi said, all of us agreeing with her. Zayn opened my door. "Hey guys!" he said, excited to see us, especially me. We didn't answer. Zayn looked worried and scared at the same time. "No, no, no, no," Zayn repeated as he ran out of my room with watering eyes. "Okay, that's enough!" I say to the girls as I run after Zayn. I opened his door, holding Sierra and Mist. Zayn was hiding under his blankets. "Zayn, get out of the blankets," I say as I sit on his bed. Zayn started to reveal his head. "What do you have in your hands?" Zayn asked, very shakily, obviously from crying. "Sierra and Mist," I respond in a happy tone, just to cheer him up. "...Can I hold one?" Zayn asked shyly. I hand him Mist, knowing black would be the go to. Zayn started to laugh. "He's cute," Zayn said, starting to cheer up. He's starting to smile.  I began to smile. "Aren't you mad at me?" Zayn asked, sounding sad. "I'm not mad. I'm just... I don't know. I understand, though. Management made this happen, and things happen," I explain. "Really? Do you mean it?" Zayn asked, his face lighting up. "Yes, but I do expect you to be there for my next one," I said sternly. "Do you mind if I leave? I need to go somewhere," Zayn asked. I sighed. "How long?" I asked. "Only an hour, I promise," Zayn said, the promising tone in his voice. "I suppose," I say. Zayn jumps out of bed, hands me Mist, and is gone within seconds. What was that boy going to do?

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