Somehow, Zayn asking Niall to Homecoming turns into finding small corners to steal away in and maybe do a little more than kissing. Also, Niall’s got Zayn’s number. Sometimes they text.

(See the end of the work for more notes)

Zayn plops her tray down in front of Niall. “Hi,” she says, cheerfully.

Niall’s munching at her crisps. She doesn’t seem to be particularly interested. “Hi,” she says back.

“You realize that there are ten minutes of lunch left, right?” says Louis from Zayn’s side. “And you just got here? Do you know how slow you eat, too? How are you going to be able to eat enough?”

Zayn bops him on the side of his head and says, “Hush.” She’s staring at Niall, who seems to be a little too focused on her food. Zayn wants to say something to her, to get her to like her—anything—so she says, “You look nice today, Niall.”

Actually, today’s the day of the powderpuff game, so Niall’s not in her usual tight top and short skirt—she’s wearing a white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up so Zayn can see her arms and shoulders (she tightens her shoulders to keep herself from doing anything inappropriate), and the front of the t-shirt says “SENIORS” on it in bright pink lettering, maybe paint. Niall’s also wearing warpaint on her cheeks and baby blue summer shorts and Zayn can see the sprinkle of freckles down her pale legs. She makes sure her mouth is closed; otherwise she most definitely would be drooling.

Niall says, “Thanks,” again and doesn’t look at her.

Harry asks, “Did you see Liam?” with a her eyebrows worried and confused. Zayn remembers, oh, right, Liam. Because there are other people in the world than cute blond cheerleaders.

“Yeah,” she says. “Liam just has… student council things. Yeah,” she adds hurriedly. “It’s like her home. Like, we usually eat lunch in the student council room, but lately she’s been eating here in the cafeteria. For you.” Which isn’t necessarily true, but not exactly a lie. About them eating in the student council room, at least.

“Oh.” Harry’s frowning down at her sandwich. “Okay.”

“Louis,” says Niall suddenly. Louis looks up in surprise. “Are you going to the powderpuff game today?”

“Yeah,” says Louis, eyes still a bit wide. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Niall goes back to her cheeseburger. Zayn thinks for a moment that maybe Niall’s eyes have flickered towards her, but it might’ve just been her imagination.

“Niall,” she says suddenly. “I’m going to the powderpuff game today, too. School spirit and all that.”

Niall says, “Cool.” Her eyes might’ve lingered on Zayn a bit longer.

“Such a tease,” Zayn’s moaning in Environmental Science with Louis. She’s really glad that she has three classes with him; more time for her to complain, rather than just wistfully daydreaming of snogging Niall under bleachers.

“We are the hopeless trio,” says Louis. “Soon to be hopeless duo.”

“Huh?”

Louis points at her. “You,” he says, “like a cheerleader whom you say is giving you no attention. Which is not true at all because she totally is.”

“But she isn’t,” Zayn whines.

“I,” says Louis, ignoring her and pointing to himself, “like a famous model. Who will one day realize that my attendance to all her shows means that I’m in love with her, and that she’s in love with me, and we’ll get married and have three point five babies.”

“Isn’t the phrase ‘two point five children’?”

“And Liam,” finishes Louis, “likes Harry Styles, who really should totally be out of her league but Liam’s pretty awesome herself despite being a complete idiot.” He looks thoughtful. “So I suppose we’re not hopeless. Just a bit desperate.”

“You are of no help,” says Zayn.

“Think of it this way,” says Louis. “Niall probably thinks you’re hot, because that’s a universal rule. And that’s pretty good, isn’t it?”

Zayn groans and puts her head on the table, black hair like waves spilling everywhere.

After school, on their way to the gym, Zayn gets asked out by three more boys—a probably-sophomore, a junior, and a senior—to homecoming. She says no to all of them, and after turning down the junior who looks absolutely heartbroken, Louis says, “You are a ruthless woman.”

“I am, I’m breaking boys everywhere,” says Zayn, and pulls up her backpack strap over one shoulder. “Fuck boys.”

“Mm, yeah, no, I don’t think any of us want to do that.”

“True,” says Zayn. And then, “Maybe if enough people ask me out, that gives a higher chance of Niall asking me out too.”

“How’d you reckon?”

“The whole probability thing,” says Zayn. “If like, forty-nine people ask me out, then it’s possible that Niall will be the fiftieth, right? A two-percent chance. I’ll take it.”

“I don’t think that’s how probabilities work,” says Louis, amused.

Niall comes running past them then, a blur of yellow and white and blond, and they hear her call out a little belatedly, “Hi Zayn, Louis!” Louis yells back, “Good luck with the game, Niall!” and then looks at Zayn.

“She said my name,” says Zayn, a bit stunned.

“How many times is that?” Louis is grinning. “Once? Twice?”

“Fourth time, actually,” says Zayn, and ignores Louis bark of laughter that, oh, you’ve actually counted!

They make their way to the gym where everyone is chattering excitedly. Louis takes one of the thundersticks they’d been handed earlier and starts humping it in the air, against his crotch.

“Right?” he says, when Zayn falls over in laughter.

“Mate,” says Zayn, and then slides it up and down the side of her mouth, so it looks like she’s sucking on it. People are probably glaring at them, but Zayn continues and Louis nearly crashes into the person standing behind them from laughing so much.

“Look, it’s Liam!” he says suddenly, pointing out to the basketball court. The teams have started running out, and Zayn can’t deny that as incredibly attracted she is to Niall, her eyes find Liam first. Well, mostly because Liam’s one of her best friends, and because Liam’s incredibly fit, especially when she’s wearing those basketball shorts showing off her muscled legs, and a semi-tight t-shirt that doesn’t leave too much nor too little to the imagination.

“Hey Liam!” Louis calls out to the court. “Watch this!”

He takes Zayn’s thunderstick and starts rubbing it against his; they squeak horribly and Zayn laughs. Liam turns away from them and some people behind them complain—”You think it’s funny, too!” Louis says indignantly.

They sit back down and stop playing with the thundersticks eventually (mostly because Zayn had noticed the dean glancing in their direction and told Louis, who muttered, “Honestly, we’re teenagers, why would they give us these for anything else?”) Then someone hollers from the court and everyone turns and Zayn grins: Niall’s clapping her hands and jumping up and down and looks better than the other reasonably attractive girls.

“Ready girls?” Liam shouts at them.

Niall nods her head like a crazy person and shouts, “YEAH, GO SENIORS!” She jumps so high she might’ve done a backflip.

“She is crazy,” Louis says to Zayn, grinning from the side of his mouth.

“Liam is always crazy,” says Zayn pointedly.

“I wasn’t talking about Li—”

“I know.”

When Zayn looks at Louis, Louis has his eyebrows raised and Zayn just shoves her hand in his face.

Zayn’s not quite sure what she’d expected about Niall’s basketball playing, but. Niall’s tiny and nimble and, when the game starts, absolutely horrible at it. She can’t guard or pass or shoot, but she runs like a madman and shouts in the faces of the players she’s supposed to be guarding, who ignore her and score a basket easily over her tiny blond head.

“Wow,” says Louis.

“Right? Liam’s awesome,” says Zayn.

Louis gives her a look and Zayn says, “What? I am in full support of our friend.”

“There’s no way Niall wouldn’t like you,” says Louis. “You’re gorgeous, you’re artistic, you’re—gorgeous!”

“Is that my only significant quality?”

“You’re also great at snogging,” says Louis cheekily.

Zayn glares and hits him again. “That was that one time, and on a dare,” she says.

“Bless Liam,” says Louis, dreamily. “I’ll never snog a girl so well like that again—well, unless Eleanor starts giving me a time of day—”

“Go girls!” shouts Niall, and both Zayn and Louis turn to see her looking as enthusiastic as ever.

Louis says, “Does she not know how terrible she is?”

“It doesn’t look like she actually cares,” says Zayn, and something inside her flutters almost up to her throat.

But even though she’s more focused on Niall, she can tell that as well as Liam plays, Liam seems a little bit distracted, actually—Harry has joined the boy cheerleaders and is laughing and twirling around. “Poor Liam,” she says.

Louis looks at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, right,” says Zayn, turning to him. “Before lunch, I ran into her at the art room,” she explains. “Well. She came to me, I guess. And she told me about how she doesn’t think she has a chance with Harry.”

“Are you kidding? She’s been flirting with Liam all week!”

“I know. I don’t think Liam’s noticed, though,” says Zayn. “Because Harry hangs out with those boys all the time, and flirts with them, and apparently one had asked her out and Harry rejected him. So Liam just thinks that Harry teases her like she teases the rest of them.”

Louis has his eyebrows raised. “Does Liam even have eyes?” he says. “Harry’s been looking at her all week, like she’s—I dunno, the best cake she’s ever baked that she doesn’t want to eat it. Her,” Louis corrects, and then, “Liam.”

“Interesting analogy, but yeah.” Zayn nods. “And now Harry’s—” She gestures to the cheerleaders.

“Oh.” Louis turns his attention back to the game, and cups his hands around his mouth. “Go Liam! Go!” he shouts, and whoops.

Zayn joins him. “Get your head in the game!” she calls, clapping her hands. “We should sing High School Musical for her, or something,” she says to Louis. “Get her blood going.”

“I don’t think High School Musical’s gonna work.”

“Right, well,” Zayn agrees. Then, “Pick me up?”

Louis does and Zayn perches on his shoulders, careful not to touch his gelled hair (for now.) “These, too,” Louis says, handing her the thundersticks they’d discarded under the bench earlier.

“Go Liam!” he cheers.

Zayn claps the thundersticks together as rapidly as she can. “Go Liam! Go go Liam!” she shouts.

“Ow,” says Louis, and smacks her calf. “Careful, I’ve got eardrums.”

Zayn bats at one of his ears and them resumes, “Go Liam! Go Liam! Go, go, go Liam!” She continues whacking at the thundersticks (though maybe not as crazily as before) and cheers as Liam runs past them.

Niall passes them, too, and then looks right at her. Zayn can’t help it: she starts shouting, “Go Niall! Go Niall! Go, go, go Niall!”

Louis hits her again. Zayn almost slips off, and says, “Hey!”

“What happened to Liam?”

“You were the one telling me I should go for Niall!”

“Not while you’re on my neck and one of our dear friends is out there being distracted by a certain pair of long legs in a frilly skirt,” says Louis, nodding toward the male cheerleaders and Harry.

He has a point. “Go Liam! Go Liam! Focus on the game and stuff!” Zayn yells, and Louis cheers as well.

A few minutes later and Louis says, “Oh god, I can’t do this anymore.” He bends down. Zayn slips off.

“I’m not that heavy,” she says, straightening her shirt and jeans.

“You’re not, but I can’t hold you that long either,” says Louis, and rolls his shoulders. “Oh god, I don’t think I can hear or see or anything. Who’s winning?”

Zayn glances at the scoreboard. “Thirty-two twenty-eight, seniors,” she says, just as the scoreboard buzzes. “Oh, that must be halftime!”

“Good. We can bother Liam,” says Louis, and the both of them bound down the bleachers to meet with her.

Liam’s got sweat lining her forehead, but good-naturedly talking to the juniors when they greet her. Zayn glances at Niall, at the same time: she’s gone over to Harry, warpaint smudged all over her cheeks and shirt rolled up so that Zayn can see a little bit of her tummy. Her usually pale thighs are flushed and Zayn forces herself to look away.

“Lookin’ good in that senior shirt!” Louis says to Liam.

“Hope you appreciated the cheers,” Zayn adds, grinning.

“I did,” says Liam, as a few of the juniors start to walk away, “until you changed the lyrics.”

Zayn’s throat does that little flutter thing again. “Yeah,” she says, trying to catch a glimpse of Niall again. “You think she noticed?”

“Looks like it,” says Liam, and Zayn can feel even more flutters coming on.

She and Louis try to help Liam out with the Harry Problem, but Liam doesn’t look too confident when the buzzer sounds again and they go back into the stands. Zayn knows Liam like the back of her hand, but she also knows girls: Liam likes Harry, and Harry likes Liam, and it would only take a little push for either of them to get together.

“What about you?” says Louis when the game resumes.

Zayn blinks. “What?” she says.

“You and Niall. You—” He nods to the court, where Niall is sprinting after the junior girl who has the ball. “You’ve snogged like, at least five girls in your lifetime and dated two and it’s never taken you this long.”

“Niall’s barely known me for a week,” says Zayn.

Louis says, “And how long have you known her?”

“Well I’ve known that she existed and that she’s hot for a while,” says Zayn. “But it’s like.” She shrugs. “Perrie asked me out first, and Rebecca and I hooked up for only a month—”

“Get on it, Zayn,” says Louis. “Even if Niall does reject any romantic advances, it’s not like she’ll say no to a little kiss.” He puckers his mouth at her and Zayn slaps him away.

“Well that’s not all what I want,” she says.

“Then let her know that that’s not all she’ll want from you, either,” says Louis.

“Why are you even giving me advice? You’ve only ever dated one girl.”

“I refuse to be with anyone until I am with Eleanor,” says Louis definitely. “I refuse.”

“You’ll be celibate for the rest of your life.”

“If that’s how I’ll have to be. Until my one true love finally recognizes me.” Louis sighs and pretends to look thoughtfully into the distance.

Zayn messes up his hair and he yelps.

When there’s ten seconds left in the game, Zayn’s standing with the rest of the crowd, all of them figuratively at the edge of their seats. Liam’s got the ball and it looks like she has a clear shot. Then—

“Liam, pass me the ball!” shouts Niall, and the crowd almost simultaneously groans.

Liam does and Zayn shouts, “What?” and Louis screeches, “Liam, you idiot!”

And then—miraculously, somehow, Niall jumps at least three feet in the air and tries to slam dunk; and she doesn’t, but the ball swooshes through the net just before the buzzer sounds.

“Yes!” says Louis, and the both of them leap up and make their way down the bleachers.

The girls have all piled on top of Niall, first the seniors and then the juniors. Zayn laughs as she tries to make it look like she’s here for Liam, searching for her in the crowd.

But then they’ve gotten up, and Niall’s right there in front of her and Zayn can’t let an opportunity go. She sees Louis come up to her but then go, “Oh,” and quickly leave for somewhere else. Zayn thinks that Louis is an okay person, sometimes.

“Hey Niall,” she says before Niall can go find one of the many other people she knows.

Niall looks like she hadn’t expected Zayn to speak to her, even though they’re standing only two feet apart in front of each other. “Hiya,” she says, breathless.

“Hi, uh. Great game.” Are Zayn’s palms clammy? They’re never clammy. Must be the contagious adrenaline.

“Yeah, d’y see me make the winning shot? I am awesome,” says Niall. Then, “Well, not totally awesome, but that was awesome.”

“You’re like, always awesome,” says Zayn. Somehow her fingers have found themselves tangled into each other.

“So,” she says, before the conversation is over and Niall is talking to five other people at once and Zayn will feel awkward and try to find Louis again. “The Homecoming dance is soon. Do you have a date?”

Niall distractedly looks away. “What? No. The Homecoming—no.”

“Cool, so, uh.” Zayn is trying not to touch Niall’s cute freckly shoulder, even though this space between them suddenly feels so weird. “Do you want to be mine? Date, that is. I mean.” She tries to clear her head.

“Do you want to come to Homecoming with me,” she states.

Niall stares at her. And then she’s—giggling? Zayn must’ve blinked during the transition.

“How many people have you asked out?” Niall asks.

“I haven’t—don’t laugh,” says Zayn, but Niall just giggles even more.

“This is so,” she says. “I could barely hear you when you asked.”

“What’re you—is that a yes or a no?”

Niall’s hair is still in a messy ponytail and little blond tufts are swept across her forehead. Zayn wants to kiss the freckles on her nose so badly, and she also wants to talk to Niall about sports and hair and things for hours.

“I’ll think about it,” says Niall, and then, “better than a no, right? I won’t say yes to any boys who ask me until then, too.”

“Is that a yes then?”

“I’ll think about it,” Niall repeats, and her smile is bright and Zayn thinks she’s okay with this when her stomach jumps higher than when Niall had after the game.

(Then Louis shouts, “Just kiss already!” and the both of them turn to see Liam and Harry snogging and Niall says, “Finally. Took her long enough.”

“Took them long enough,” says Zayn.

“Are you kidding?” says Niall. “Harry’s had a crush on Liam since like—the beginning of last year. She dragged me along to all the basketball games and tried to tell me how hot Liam is.”

“Do you think she’s hot?” Zayn asks.

Niall shrugs. “She’s not bad, just not my type.”

“I’m your type, though, right?” says Zayn. “‘Cause you said you’ll think about going to Homecoming with me. Better than all those boys, at least?”

Niall turns and walks away right then, but she’s swaying her hips and glances back to Zayn once and Zayn takes that as a good sign.)

“She’ll think about it? Does she not realize that homecoming is today?”

Zayn raises her eyebrows at Louis, who is adjusting his hair in the Skype chatroom. “It’s not a no,” she says. “I can pretend she’s coming with me. She’s not not coming with me.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Louis complains. “You girls are so complicated.”

“Girls aren’t complicated, boys just don’t try hard enough to understand,” says Zayn reasonably. “I would talk to Liam about this, okay—”

“I am the better friend,” Louis says defiantly, and Zayn says, “No you’re not.”

“No I’m not,” he agrees, with a chuckle. “But she’s freaking out, yeah?”

Apparently Harry had asked Liam to homecoming yesterday, after they’d kissed at the powderpuff game and Zayn is incredibly happy for her. But today’s homecoming and Liam’s under stress for a) organizing most of homecoming, and b) going with the girl she’s been denying (and totally) liking all week. And Zayn and Louis know that a stressed out Liam is a Liam to avoid.

“She’ll be fine,” says Zayn. She smirks. “Maybe she’s got Harry over right now.”

“Mm,” says Louis. “Well what are you wearing to homecoming then? Last time I checked, you’ve ever only owned one formal dress.”

“I’ll figure something out.” Zayn looks around her desk. “I’ve got scissors and fabric markers and everything. I’ll look like a fashionable hot mess.”

“You’ll look stunning, as usual.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Well get to your dress stuff then, because I’m not watching you do your boring fashion things. Bye.”

“Bye,” says Zayn, and then closes her laptop. She stretches and sighs; she feels like she should be nervous for homecoming, because even though she doesn’t technically have a date, Niall’s still going and she’s still going and Niall said that she was thinking about it. Which means Niall’s not not going as her date.

Louis has a point. It doesn’t make sense at all.

She’s not too bothered, though, since looking at Niall and doing nice things for her is fun, too. She finds the scissors that she usually uses to cut up old shirts and dresses, and is about to get up and find some dresses when her phone buzzes.

Zayn looks at the caller ID and frowns: it’s an unfamiliar number. The text says:

Looking forward to seein you tonight! xx

sorry, who’s this? Zayn texts back.

Oh, its Niall!! Liam gave Harry your number n she gave it to me

Zayn’s stomach does that ridiculous fluttery thing again and it should really stop before she feels like she might puke. Or something.

right, looking forward to seeing u too.

She doesn’t really want to say anything else and doesn’t look at her phone when Niall texts back; she doesn’t want to expect too much from Niall. She’s going to see her at the dance and Niall’s going to see her and maybe they’ll talk and not be not together and not together and that’ll still make Zayn’s whole month.

“Oh my god,” says Liam. “What are you wearing.”

“I like it,” says Harry, and Liam nudges her shoulder.

Zayn’s wearing a black, stripey sort of dress that shows quite a bit of skin, and says, “Thank you, Harry.”

“I mean, I don’t not like it,” says Liam. “But just—what is that?”

Louis pops up beside them, in a dark blue blazer and pastel shirt. “This is underwater themed, so it’s like a bathing suit, isn’t it?” he says.

“Are you Zayn’s date?” Harry asks him.

Louis shakes his head. He opens his mouth and Zayn very firmly steps on his foot.

“Ow,” says Louis. “You’re wearing heels, woman.”

Liam frowns. “You never react when I step on your feet.”

“Because you have small feet,” says Louis.

“Small feet are cute,” Harry interjects.

Liam smiles at her and Harry smiles back and Zayn says to Louis, “C’mon, let’s not be the third and fourth wheel or whatever.” As she drags him away, Louis says, “But then we make a car—I don’t understand ‘third wheel’ anyway, aren’t tricycles more stable—”

Zayn almost runs into a guy in their study hall. “Hello, Dan,” she says, shoving Louis at him. “Louis wants to talk to you about football.”

“I don’t—” Louis starts, but then Dan drags Louis into a conversation and Zayn walks away, smirking. She can feel Louis glaring at her back.

She walks to the food table, maybe looking for something to drink; surprisingly (but maybe not completely), Niall’s there, with two soft pretzels in her hand.

“Hello,” says Zayn, and then almost regrets it because—what if Niall’s actually not interested at all?

Niall says, “Hi,” looking cool and indifferent. She’s wearing a shimmery light blue dress. She takes a bite out of the pretzel in her left hand.

“Are they very good?” Zayn asks.

Niall shrugs. “They’re alright,” she says, and then actually looks at Zayn. Zayn’s sure that she checks her out. “Did you make that?” Niall asks.

“Yeah. Well, sort of,” Zayn picks at some fabric near where parts of her midriff are showing. “I edited it.”

“It looks nice,” says Niall, and Zayn’s pretty sure that she’s going to replay that compliment over in her head for the next month. “Well, I’m off to dance. See ya.”

“Bye,” says Zayn. Immediately when Niall’s gone, Zayn thinks, Why didn’t I say that I was going to dance too? “Stupid,” she mutters to herself. She takes a crisp from a giant bowl.

Zayn lingers around a bit, not really talking or greeting everyone. She finds Louis again, eventually, but he’s actually—

“No, he can’t defend for shite!” Louis is insisting to Dan, and Zayn supposes that she should leave him to it.

She goes by some tables and sits near one of them. She spots Harry and Liam, holding hands and jumping up and down to the music. A couple of guys ask her to dance, but she declines. She’s not going to fancy some strange boys grinding up against her junk.

Niall’s dancing with some boy, though, and something in Zayn sinks. She should’ve—well, Niall never actually expressed any interest, she just—didn’t say no, and Zayn didn’t know why some part of her thought that that was the same as saying yes. It’s not, she tells herself. Niall has plenty of friends, and maybe thought that Zayn was teasing.

The boy’s face is getting closer and closer to Niall’s and Niall giggles, tossing her blond hair—in his face, maybe? Maybe Zayn’s just imagining things. The boy’s hands move to her waist and Niall twists, slightly; she’s turning her head to the side as the boy leans in, and suddenly she’s not giggling anymore—

And then Zayn’s marching across the dance floor, scooping Niall away by her waist. She sneers, “Bye,” to the boy and drags them to the back of the gym.

Niall stumbles along as Zayn leads them to a nearby open doorway. “Thanks for that,” she says. From the hallway light, her cheeks are visibly flushed pink.

Zayn has to look away.

“He was being a creep,” she says shortly, not looking at Niall.

“He was,” Niall agrees. “Thank you, again.”

“Right,” says Zayn.

She expects Niall to go off and find—some other boy, she supposes. But when she turns, Niall’s still standing there, watching Zayn like she’s expecting her to say more. Which—well, Zayn’s not really got anything to say.

The hall they’re standing right outside of is quiet. Zayn suddenly finds her hand on Niall’s shoulder, because from what she can see of Niall’s profile, she—and then Zayn’s body is moving without conscience—

Her mouth is suddenly millimeters away from Niall’s and Niall leans in and closes the gap and whoa.

It’s weird, it’s utterly weird, especially since Niall’s so short and Zayn isn’t huge or anything, but Niall has to step on her toes lightly so that their noses brush. Her teeth run along Zayn’s bottom lip and Zayn sucks in a breath; a strand of Niall’s hair falls against her cheek and Zayn’s stomach has never jumped at such a miniscule touch before.

“We’re,” says Niall, looking around. They must’ve moved, because now they’re tucked into a nearby corner, in the empty hallway.

“Yeah,” says Zayn. She doesn’t want to lose this moment so she grabs Niall’s chin and they’re kissing again, Zayn’s fingers stroking along Niall’s lightly freckled face.

Niall twists a hand in Zayn’s hair, going long and down and stroking her back, though she can’t quite reach Zayn’s shoulders. Zayn hoists her thighs up a little so that Niall can get better access, running her fingers through Zayn’s long hair, and Zayn is clutching at Niall’s face as to not let her go.

“Um,” says Niall, trying to break apart, “this—”

Zayn doesn’t want to let go of this; she can’t let go of this. She gently bites at the corner of Niall’s mouth and Niall smiles and goes, “Ow.” She giggles and Zayn swallows it up—someone must’ve spiked the punch or something because why else would Niall have been kissing her back so much—but this is an opportunity she’s going to take, and soon enough Niall stops trying to say something to her and gives into the kisses.

One of Niall’s dress straps slide down and Zayn runs her fingers down Niall’s arm, tugging at it. Niall tilts herself in closer so that her hair nearly tangles with Zayn’s long bangs, and she’s roaming around Zayn’s dress too, touching where fabric’s exposing Zayn’s skin. Zayn shivers against her; Niall has bitten nails, Zayn’s always noticed, and she’s wondered what it’s like to feel Niall’s tiny fingertips pressing into her skin.

Zayn slips a hand under her skirt and Niall inhales sharply. She touches Niall’s thighs, wonderful and flush in her hands—

“Zayn,” Niall breathes, and Zayn pulls apart.

Niall’s pupils are blown against her blue eyes, dilated. Zayn stares at her and Niall stares back, without a definite emotion—just something that—

They stay like that for a minute.

Niall breaks the silence, “I’m,” she says, playing with the collar of Zayn’s dress. “Uh.”

Her eyes flicker up and down; they don’t have the same light they had just a moment ago. Zayn drops her gaze. Then she lets go, trying to watch Niall’s face. Niall slides down—Zayn had been pressing her up against the wall, she didn’t even notice.

Niall straightens out her skirt and her hair so she doesn’t look as messy. Her cheeks are still bright pink, though. “That was nice,” she says, not looking at Zayn.

“Yeah.” Zayn feels like she’s cocked up, somehow.

“We,” says Niall. She still has her face turned away, and Zayn nods even though that’s not a finished thought at all.

After a moment, Niall only says, “Bye.”

Zayn watches her leave. Niall might’ve looked back when she reentered the gym, but Zayn isn’t sure.

“What,” says Louis.

Liam says, “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t know—it just happened!” Zayn says defensively to her webcam. “One moment she’s—maybe she’s the one who kissed me first, I don’t even remember how it started!”

“You are complicating things,” says Liam, shaking her head. “Overcomplicating things. You could’ve told Niall you just liked her.”

“Like you did that?” Zayn says sarcastically, and Liam looks down. But then her fingers are moving—”You’re texting Harry, aren’t you?” Zayn says.

“Shut up.” Liam blushes.

Zayn rolls her eyes. “As long as you don’t tell her the details of this conversation, whatever.”

“They’re probably things like ‘I love you and I miss you, kissy kissy goo goo,'” teases Louis.

“Shut up, Louis,” says Liam, and Zayn laughs.

“Well,” she says, “I did ask her to Homecoming which is pretty much telling her that I liked her. But if she likes me back, then why didn’t she just say yes or just tell me or anything?”

“Kissing back can be like that,” reasons Louis.

“But she could’ve been drunk! Did any of you guys have the punch last night?”

“Did she have any?” says Louis.

Zayn tries to remember seeing Niall drinking anything. “Oh,” she says, realizing. “Maybe not then.”

“You can ask her on Monday,” says Louis. “It’s really not that hard.”

“Or I could ask her now.” Zayn pulls out her phone, and scrolls down her contacts list where she’d saved Niall there earlier.

Louis asks, surprised, “She gave you her number?”

“No, apparently Liam,” Zayn looks pointedly at the computer window where Liam still seems to be texting Harry with a huge dorky grin on her face, “told Harry, who told Niall.”

“Did Harry ask you for Zayn’s number, Liam?” says Louis, and Liam jerks her head up.

“What? Oh, no,” says Liam. “She was over on Saturday morning—”

“Ha!”

“You are obnoxious, Zayn,” says Liam, and Zayn grins. “She was here on Saturday and stole my phone and I guess took a few numbers from my address book. She might’ve texted it to Niall, who knows.”

“Ask her,” suggests Louis.

“No, don’t,” Zayn says quickly. “It’s none of my—”

She remembers that she hadn’t responded to Niall’s texts yesterday afternoon, yet Niall had kissed her. Perhaps she should try talking to Niall about it, as that could clear things up faster.

Hey, u want to explain what happened last night?

“Does this look straightforward and polite?” Zayn says, showing Louis and Liam her phone.

“Straightforward, yeah, but I wouldn’t say polite,” Liam says honestly.

“Say you’re confused about it or something,” says Louis. “She ought to understand then.”

Hey, im just wondering what happened last night? Im a bit confused Iguess

She hits send before having second thoughts, and puts her phone aside.

“Now to wait,” she says, and jiggles her legs in her seat. “How are things with you guys?”

“Well,” says Louis, smirking, “Eleanor has a fashion show tonight, so I’m—”

“Liam,” says Zayn loudly. “What about you?”

“Don’t be a hater, Zayn. You’re just jealous that you’re not my favorite girl anymore.”

“I really am not,” says Zayn.

They both (well, Zayn assumes that Louis does as well) look at the screen window where Liam is, but Liam is still focused on something in her lower direction.

“Liam!” Louis shouts, and Liam jerks her head up.

“Yeah? What?”

“If you’re not aware,” says Zayn, waving her hand around, “you are in a threeway Skype chat with us.”

“Yeah, what are you and Harry talking about? Sexting?” says Louis.

Liam looks horrified at the suggestion. “No!” she says. “We’re talking about choir and stuff—apparently she joined the year I decided to leave, so we—”

“You’re so—it’s called the honeymoon phase?” Louis says to Zayn, and Zayn nods. “Honeymoon phase. Liam, you are basically a smitten wife right now. Too busy with Harry to make time for us.”

Zayn pretends to cry. “Boo-hoo,” she says, wiping at her eyes. “So lonely without Liam.”

“I’m not in any—I’m not a smitten wife! And I’ll have plenty of time for you and everything,” Liam insists.

“Yeah?” says Louis. “Well you didn’t decorate the entire west wall of the gym for yesterday, if you didn’t notice.”

Liam’s face flashes to panic, until Zayn and Louis burst out laughing. And then she does, too.

“Oh, shove off,” Liam says, as Zayn says, “Louis, you don’t even know which way west is.”

Niall doesn’t answer the text until they’re in study hall the next day, and her reply is so confusing that Zayn stares at her phone for a minute, trying to figure it out.

shoobop sha wadda wadda yippity boom di boom

“What is it?” Liam asks, looking up from her schoolwork.

Zayn shows her the text, and Liam furrows her eyebrows. “Let me see,” says Louis, and Zayn gives the phone to him, too.

“Oh,” says Louis, for some reason clarity in his expression. “She’s quoting Grease.”

“What?” says Zayn, and Liam says, “Grease doesn’t talk.”

Louis stares at her. “Are you actually,” he says, and then shakes his head. “It’s from that song—We go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong / Remembered forever like shoobop sha wadda wadda yippity boom de boom.”

“What,” says Liam. “What does that even mean?”

“I can’t do this right now,” says Louis, shoving a hand in her face. “If you would stop watching and listening to Disney musicals and stuff, Liam, and see the good old stuff, you’d—”

“Right, thanks Louis,” Zayn interrupts. “But what does it mean?”

“Maybe she thinks you and her go well together,” says Louis, glancing at the text again.

Liam says, “Like… drama llama the Donkey Kong?”

“Oh my god stop,” says Louis, and both Liam and Zayn giggle. “Well it means something, I guess. Or maybe the text was secretly for me. Since I actually know what she’s talking about.”

“Maybe she thinks that you go well with her,” says Liam. “Maybe she’s been after you all along, Lou, and was trying to lead Zayn on.”

“Hey, Niall definitely likes me way more!” says Zayn, but she laughs anyways.

At lunch, Harry and Niall sit with the three of them, which has turned into a new development ever since last week, when Harry and Liam quickly became friends and then snogged and went to homecoming together. Niall, disappointingly, sits down next to Liam when she gets there. Liam looks surprised.

“Hullo,” says Niall. There are faint bags under her eyes.

Zayn really, really can’t shut her mouth. “You alright there?” she asks.

Niall looks at her blearily, and then nods. Zayn says, “Really?”

“Hello!” Harry says brightly, appearing and sitting across from Liam. “What’s new?”

“Niall’s telling us that she’s okay when she looks like a zombie,” Liam says almost immediately. “Do you know anything about this?”

“Way to be on top of things, Liam,” says Louis approvingly.

Niall looks like she’s considering glaring at Liam, except Liam seems to be genuinely concerned and earnest.

Harry shrugs, and glances at Niall. And Zayn notices that the despite the baggy eyes, Niall’s makeup is still impeccable and her bright pink top and white skirt are distracting as anything else.

“No,” says Harry innocently. “Niall’s just had a few phone troubles, is all.”

Niall might be glaring at Harry now, but says, “No, my phone died over the weekend but that has nothing to do with anything. I just was studying for a test I missed last week, and didn’t get enough sleep.”

“You probably just didn’t have a proper sleep cycle,” reasons Liam. “You’re supposed to sleep in a ninety minute interval to feel rested. So even if you have three or six hours of sleep, you’ll be fine when you wake up.”

Louis leans over. “Wow, you know this and you don’t know Grease?” Zayn hears him whisper to her. Liam ignores him.

Niall says, “Oh, I only had five hours, so that makes sense.”

“I usually try to sleep for nine hours, but these two,” says Liam, pointing at Zayn and Louis, “get about four and a half since they stay up playing video games all the time.”

“Remember when you used to, too, before you became class president?” says Louis reminiscently.

“Ah,” Zayn joins, putting her chin in her hands. “Good times.”

“I’ll try to sleep like that,” says Niall, nodding across the table. “Thanks Liam.”

Liam smiles at her. “It’s no problem.”

Niall’s barely looked at Zayn the whole time, which is weird because she texted her earlier because they “go together” or something like that, like Louis said. Zayn tries not to pout, and asks, “Niall, did you quote Grease at me through a text today?”

“Hey! I deserve credit for figuring that one out,” Louis says indignantly.

Niall nods. “Yeah,” she says, before turning to Louis and saying, “You knew what it meant?”

“I am Grease,” says Louis. “Of course I knew what it meant.”

Niall lights up. “I love it so much,” she gushes.

“I didn’t know what it was,” says Liam, pouting.

Harry plays with one of Liam’s wavy ringlets. “You know other things like sleep cycles,” she says. “That’s more important.”

Liam seems pleased with this, but Louis says, “Have you seen it too, Niall?”

“Well obviously,” says Niall. “We’re talking about it, aren’t we?”

“That’s it.” Louis puts his hands on the table, and then reaches across to offer one to Niall. “You are my new favorite girl. Congratulations.”

Niall shakes it and laughs.

In a desperate attempt to not be left out, Zayn says out of the blue, “Niall, do you want my cookie?”

Everyone looks at her. But Niall’s still beaming and nods, and Zayn hands it to her.

“Thank you, Zayn,” she says cheekily, before opening the cookie up.

She doesn’t say a whole lot during lunch after that. Neither does Zayn, but mostly because she’s so confused.

She and Zayn don’t have any classes together so it’s difficult to see her outside of lunch and brief glimpses in the hallway. Zayn doesn’t have many opportunities to talk to her, either, because Niall is usually busy eating or talking so much around their other friends that it’s hard for Zayn to get a word in.

Zayn remembers what Louis had mentioned a while ago—maybe she just wants a kiss. Zayn hadn’t thought to take him seriously, but maybe he’d had a point.

Well, it’s all right if it’s what Niall wants. Zayn would be happy to supply.

On Thursday in study hall, while Liam is working on student council things and Louis is in the dean’s office (yet again), Zayn texts Niall:

Do u want to have lunch with me in the student council room today x

can we???

well Liam can but Louis and I have eaten with her there before. Ill mention it to her, maybe x

haha maybe ? well ok !ill buy my food first and then bring it:D

Zayn hesitates; Niall isn’t this enthusiastic around her in real life.

This isnt weird for you?

It takes a while for an astoundingly short response.

nope

So Zayn isn’t entirely sure what to make of that. She pockets her phone, and Liam looks up.

“Texting Louis?” she asks.

Zayn says, “No, it’s—uh, someone else. Hey, I’m not gonna be at lunch today.”

“More art projects?”

“Yes, that,” says Zayn, and Liam rolls her eyes.

“If only you put the same amount of energy in your other schoolwork as you do art,” she says.

“I put in plenty of energy for my schoolwork,” says Zayn, and shrugs. “Y’know. Enough.”

“Ridiculous, I cannot handle any of you.” Liam puts her pencil down. “You sound like Harry, too. Honestly, just put in more effort—”

“Meh, Liam. Meh,” Zayn says, and Liam sticks her tongue out at her. Zayn rolls her eyes. “I’m just—art, that’s what I’m doing, okay?” The more she talks about this, the more she’ll feel guilty about lying. She’ll tell Liam the truth, though. Eventually. Just definitely not now.

When it’s lunchtime, Zayn skips grabbing her lunch bag from her locker, and heads down to the student council room instead. She’s not entirely hungry, anyways; even less so when she sees that Niall’s at the door already and her stomach does little backflips. Thinking about Niall and anything more makes Zayn more than satisfied.

“I’ve never eaten anywhere other than in the cafeteria,” says Niall as Zayn approaches. “Are you sure this is—”

“It’s fine,” Zayn assures her, and then lets them in.

It’s just a room with a big table and several spinny chairs, and Zayn, feeling like the host, says, “Pick any seat.”

“Whoa,” says Niall. She sets her tray down, and then plops herself in the nearest chair. She starts spinning around, cheering.

“Don’t get too dizzy,” says Zayn, amused.

Niall slows herself down. “What? Me? Never,” she jokes. “Food time!” She drags her tray over and starts digging into her chicken.

Zayn sits down beside her and watches. “You don’t have any food,” says Niall, after a moment. “Not hungry?”

Zayn shakes her head. “It’s cool.”

“Any reason you wanted me to eat here with you?” Niall asks. “I mean, I’m not complaining. This room is sweet.”

“It’s not,” Zayn starts, and then shakes her head again. “Not really.”

Niall shifts her shoulders. “Still nice,” she says, before digging into her mashed potatoes next.

She doesn’t seem to notice that Zayn is actually staring at her while she eats; either that, or she’s completely ignoring it. Niall takes tiny little bites and chews like a rabbit, and today she’s wearing dark tight shirt of some band, and jean shorts. Her hair is in a dark blond ponytail and bounces whenever she bends down to take another bite.

Zayn says, “Niall,” some few minutes later, and Niall comes up and asks, “Hm?” She’s looking at Zayn with big blue eyes and Zayn remembers why she’d asked Niall to come here for lunch with her, in the first place.

Their faces are so close and then Zayn’s leaned in and kissed her, even though Niall has bits of mashed potato and gravy in her mouth. It isn’t pleasant at all, and Niall pulls back and laughs, “Oh, man.” She takes a quick sip of her iced tea and swallows and maybe licks her lips to make it feel more natural, or something—

But Zayn doesn’t mind mashed potatoes or gravy or awkwardness that much, and kisses her and iced tea tastes even better. Niall is responsive this time, her mouth clinging to Zayn’s and leaning in. She has her hands on Zayn’s shoulders, and then she’s pushing forward even more until she’s in Zayn’s lap, her own chair forgotten.

“We’re not allowed to do this in here, are we?” says Niall, before Zayn shuts her up again.

“You’re so chatty,” she mumbles.

“It’s me, chatty and a fatty,” Niall manages to get out before Zayn’s snogging her again, fingers running down her spine while the other hand tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

They kiss for quite a while and then Zayn’s fingers wander a bit more, to the waistband of her jean shorts—she runs her fingernails over a tease of Niall’s stomach, and Niall giggles. Then she gets to the hem, right above her adorable thighs, and slips a hand beneath.

“Mm,” murmurs Niall, giggling again. “Ah, you’re awful.” Zayn can feel the edge of Niall’s panties, and it’s really quite unfair to the both of them now.

“Niall,” she whispers, kissing a few of her freckles.

Niall nods, the side of her nose brushing along Zayn’s cheek. “Me,” she agrees, and Zayn chuckles.

She kisses her lips again, and Niall sucks and bites on hers until Zayn’s sure that they’re swollen. They pull away again and Niall pauses to stare at her, first at Zayn’s eyes and then her mouth.

“I,” she says. “You look. Wow.”

Zayn’s hands are cupping Niall’s arse now and she knows how turned on she is that it’s probably incredibly evident on her face. “Like a horny bastard?” she says.

“Just,” says Niall, and then tips her head forward. She presses her lips against Zayn’s, and then retracts to let their foreheads touch. “We need to do something dirty in this student council room,” she says. “Right now.”

Zayn’s stomach leaps. “I couldn’t agree more,” she says. She picks Niall up by her thighs and sits her on the table, next to the near forgotten tray. Zayn plucks up a grape and right as she’s about to kiss Niall, tucks it between her teeth.

“Romantic,” Niall says around the grape, before quickly chewing and swallowing so they’re kissing again. Zayn’s hand is resting gently around her collarbone, and Niall’s got both of her hands on the side of Zayn’s head.

Eventually Zayn starts tipping forward and Niall goes along with it, laying them both down on the table. Zayn runs her fingers down Niall’s clothed stomach, and then her boobs, and Niall giggles and says, “That’s the best.”

“Your tits are the best, yes,” Zayn agrees, grasping at one and then thumbing over the nipple.

Niall arches and then giggles again. “You’re so,” she says, but she’s smiling so hard that Zayn has to lean down and kiss her again.

Zayn pulls back eventually and starts, “What was—”

The bell rings then. They both look up at the intercom, and then at each other.

“Dicks,” Niall swears, getting back up. Zayn takes a step backwards. “I can’t be late to class—’ve got to get to my locker first.”

“Oh. I can get your tray if you want,” Zayn offers.

Niall looks worried. “What about you and your next class?”

“I’ll get there eventually,” says Zayn. “I’ve got my stuff already, anyways.” She indicates toward her backpack in the corner.

“Right, well. Thanks,” Niall says gratefully, and then grins. “This was a fun lunch, even though I didn’t get much eating done.”

Something in Zayn’s stomach—probably the same damn thing that’s fluttering all the time—swells and Zayn doesn’t feel hungry at all. “Yeah,” she says, and Niall grabs her cookie and says goodbye and leaves.

“I could’ve gotten some eating done,” Zayn says belatedly to the empty student council room.

She curses that she hadn’t said that euphemism twenty seconds ago.

It’s all right with her that this has now happened twice and Niall still talks to boys like she’s flirting with them and mostly doesn’t meet Zayn’s eyes when they’re at lunch. It’s nothing, honestly, Zayn tells herself, just as long as Niall enjoys it and Zayn will take what she can get.

“You snogged in my room?” Liam says incredulously as Zayn’s walking her and Louis to math.

“Wow,” said Louis. “When did it become your room? I thought it was a shared room between the three of us—or maybe the entire student council—”

“You know what I mean!” Liam adjusts the books in her arms.

Zayn bends down to look at them. “Why do you need all of those? We have study hall next period.”

“Oh, um.” Liam blushes and suddenly develops an interest in a stray piece of paper hanging out from one of her books. “Harry actually, uh—we’re going to—I have a pass and everything—these are just what I need for the classes afterward!”

“Oh my god,” says Louis. “Liam Payne, are you actually going to skip class?”

“I’m skipping study hall, it hardly counts!”

“It counts,” says Zayn, impressed. “You’re abusing your class president powers to snog your girlfriend for forty-five minutes. Good on you.”

“I am not abusing anything!” says Liam, and then blushes again. “I’m just—Harry suggested it, and I have study hall, and she has a substitute in English so it’s not like we’re—”

They’ve arrived at Louis and Liam’s classroom, and Zayn says, “Have fun in math,” as Liam continues insisting to Louis that there’s absolutely nothing rebellious about skipping study hall.

Zayn gets to history fine, and endures forty minutes of Grimshaw nattering on about the Cold War while Zayn uses a sharpie to doodle on her arm. When the period’s over, she takes a new route to study hall—because Niall’s coming in the opposite direction that way and Zayn gets to see her and maybe say hello, which is pretty nice. Between the times they’ve already kissed.

But Zayn still likes her as a person, and it does something to her insides when she sees Niall at the water fountain, blond hair against the sunlight winking through the window. Zayn tries to slip between the kids crowding the hallway, saying, “Excuse me,” and rushing towards Niall.

And she doesn’t get there first: when she glances back up to the water fountain again, Niall’s leaning against the wall, talking to some boy.

Zayn feels her stomach drop and starts to turn away, and then remembers that study hall is right down this hallway and she’ll have to get through it if she wants to get to class in time. She doesn’t mind being late, especially if Liam’s not going to be there to yell at her—but the room is right there, and oh for fuck’s sakes Zayn can live with Niall talking to boys, honestly.

She strides with as much bravado as she can towards (but not to) the water fountain, and down the hallway. As she nears Niall and the boy, she can hear some of their conversation.

“I’m busy on Saturday,” Niall’s saying, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. She’s smiling a little, though it’s nothing like the ones Zayn has ever seen.

“How about Friday then?” the boy asks. He’s different from the boy at homecoming, but he leans in the same and Niall backs away the same.

“I’m just not—” she starts.

Zayn automatically sidles up to them and says, “Hi, Niall.” Niall turns to her, startled. The boy is, too.

Zayn smiles sweetly at the boy. Her throat makes a strange carnal sound. “Hello,” she says to him. “Leaving?”

The boy’s expression turns from surprised to defiant. “No,” he says, “I was here—”

Zayn ignores him and says, “Come on,” to Niall. She hooks her arm into Niall’s, and before Niall can react, is pulling her down the hall and away from the water fountain.

“Um,” says Niall, when they’ve traveled a good distance and when Zayn looks back, the boy is no longer there. “Uh, thank you—”

“Do they hit on you like, every day or something?”

Zayn thinks about putting a straightjacket on every boy in their school or something, or maybe bringing her tattoo gun one day and tattooing ‘DON’T TOUCH‘ on Niall’s body. Even though that would be against school rules, and Niall probably wouldn’t even want the tattoo.

Niall shrugs. “Well I can’t blame ’em,” she says, “I—boys make me weird so when I talk to them it seems like I’m flirting with them, and then they ask me out, like, a lot—”

“Then it’s their own damn fault,” says Zayn. She brushes invisible dust off of Niall’s shoulders, and Niall looks at her funnily. Zayn quickly pulls her hand back.

“Well,” says Niall, smiling. She looks familiar this time. “That was very—knight-in-shining-armor of you, so thank you.”

Zayn shakes her head. “I’m sure you could’ve handled yourself, just—”

What, she’s going to say something along the lines of, I got a little jealous? Or more that it made her sick that boys would look at Niall like that; or maybe that they looked at her too much—Zayn tries to clear her head. Just a week ago, she wouldn’t have had such a huge problem with this.

“Well,” says Niall, hitching her tiny blue backpack higher up. “I should get to class. I’ll see you at lunch, Zayn,” she says brightly, and then walks away.

Louis is gone in study hall, so Zayn naps in her arms all period, dreaming of flashes of gold and blue and freckles.

The cheerleaders usually practice on Monday afternoons, and it usually oversteps Zayn’s boundaries to go there and watch, because, well—she isn’t that creepy.

But Liam is her friend and Liam’s girlfriend is on the cheerleading team, so it makes perfect sense for Zayn and Louis to join her.

“You really didn’t have to come,” says Liam, as they sit on the bleachers.

Zayn nudges her so that they’re a little bit closer, and Louis says, “No, we really do. Did. Whatever.”

Zayn sighs, “Cheerleaders,” and Louis says, “I agree with that statement.”

“I’m just here because Harry’s coming over to my house afterwards,” says Liam. “You guys are going to go home afterwards, so—”

“This is worth sacrificing my afternoon nap,” says Zayn. “I mean—look, skirts. Arms.”

“Thighs and legs and all that good stuff,” adds Louis. Then, “Oh my god, Eleanor has a fashion show tonight and I’m going to miss it.”

“She’s not even going to notice,” says Zayn.

Liam asks him, “Why?”

“Family dinners and things.” Louis tucks his legs in and holds himself so he looks practically pocket-sized. “This will be the only fashion show I’m going to miss until she goes worldwide and famous and has shows in like, Egypt and stuff.”

“I’m sure you’ll try to make it to those, too,” Liam says in some form of reassurance.

Louis grumbles, “I’m going to distract myself with cheerleaders.”

Their cheerleading team isn’t stellar or anything—Harry’s the captain and tells them where to stand and when to toss or whatever that is, but the routines aren’t particularly mind-blowing or anything. Liam says, as they watch, “They’ve only been to a couple of competitions but the girls aren’t competitive, so.”

“They’re not bad,” says Louis.

“You don’t know the first thing about cheerleading,” Zayn says to him.

“Well I can pretend,” says Louis. “Like, that girl over there has really nice legs. And Niall—”

Zayn tunes him out right then because she catches a glimpse of Niall, who’s suddenly looking right at them, probably because Louis had said her name. Then their eyes meet, and then Niall’s stumbling backwards and the girl spotting her catches her.

“Niall!” Harry says, running over.

Niall’s picking herself up and straightening out her uniform. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she tells Harry, who’s checking to make sure she’s not too hurt.

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing, just.” Niall shrugs and glances at Zayn again. Zayn quickly turns away and pretends to be busy with her hair.

Harry says, “You should probably go to the locker room to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Niall insists, but Harry pushes her and says, “Go.”

“She’s a control freak just like you, Liam,” says Louis. “I see a long happy life in your future.”

“Shut up.” Liam lightly punches him in the shoulder and Louis doesn’t react. “She’s being smart. I like that.” She crosses her legs and puts her hands in her laps, concentrating very hard on watching Harry.

Zayn glances over. “You can see her knickers from here, can’t you?”

“No!” says Liam, a very distinct blush on her face.

The cheerleaders continue practicing even though Niall’s gone. And despite that all the cheerleaders look incredible, it’s just not—Zayn jitters in her seat, glancing toward the locker room door, wondering when Niall’s going to come back.

“I’m going to pee,” she says to Liam and Louis.

But Harry’s in Niall’s place as temporary flyer and is about to be tossed into the air that neither of them pay much attention to her.

Zayn rolls her eyes and descends down the bleachers, and then out the gym and to the girls’ locker room. She sees Niall at the sink mirror, reapplying makeup but otherwise looking perfectly fine.

“Harry’s just concerned,” Niall says when she comes in, still working on her eyeliner. “I’m alright.”

“You look it.” Zayn walks over to her. “Need some help?”

“It’s fine,” says Niall, shaking her head.

But Zayn goes until their hips are bumping against each other, and says, “Let me help.” She gently takes the eyeliner pencil from Niall’s hand—Niall doesn’t protest at all—and carefully puts it on for her. Niall is steady and doesn’t blink, and Zayn can hear and feel her breathing, the slow up and downs of her torso.

Zayn sets the eyeliner down, and then she’s holding Niall’s face and kissing her sweetly. This time she knows she’s the one who started it, because who couldn’t kiss Niall when she’s looking at her like that? Niall wriggles against her; not away, just so that she has a comfortable grasp on Zayn’s shoulders, and then her collarbone. She strokes there and down Zayn’s chin, and Zayn slides her hands down and grabs at Niall’s arse.

“Hey!” Niall squeaks in her mouth, and giggles. Zayn grins and Niall kisses it, full and biting at her teeth. Zayn ducks her head down to press her lips at Niall’s neck, and Niall giggles again.

Zayn’s pushing her forward so that Niall’s back is against the sink counter, and Niall says, “Ow,” softly. Zayn mutters, “Sorry,” and guides them a few feet to lightly back Niall into the lockers.

“Better?” Zayn asks, and Niall nods and Zayn mouths at her neck again. She licks and bites and Niall tastes like sweat so it’s not really the best thing ever, but then she starts to suck a hickey and Niall is making these little moaning noises, so she figures it comes close.

“Your eyeliner is smudged,” says Zayn when she gets a look at Niall’s face again. Niall says, “I blame you, you tosser,” and kisses the side of her chin. Zayn slides their mouths back together, noses squashed against one another. Niall brings a thumb to the corner of her eye and then wipes the eyeliner on Zayn’s cheek, and Zayn just curls her head in and giggles.

Her fingers play with the hem of Niall’s skirt. Niall pushes away and breathes, “Fuck, it’s so hot in here.” She leans her shoulders against Zayn’s so Zayn pulls away, a little, and then Niall just goes and takes off her top.

“Well,” says Zayn.

Niall tosses it onto a nearby bench and then grins. “Cheerleading is a huge workout,” she says, playing with her bra straps.

“Right.” Zayn can’t stop looking at where sweat trickles down into Niall’s sports bra, faint outlines of her nipples that Zayn just wants to lick.

“We can like—continue—” Niall gasps just as Zayn goes with her instinct and does, does lick and suck at her tit and Niall tangles her fingers in Zayn’s hair. “Christ,” Niall mutters, when Zayn looks back up at her and smiles, kisses her mouth.

She hikes Niall’s legs up and Niall says, “God. God, you could probably fuck me, Zayn, right now—”

“I could,” Zayn agrees, and Niall’s voice is so raspy and her eyes are dark that Zayn really wants to, so badly.

“No one’s gonna look for us for maybe like another five minutes,” says Niall.

Zayn kisses the side of her mouth and says, “Really? You can only last for five minutes?”

“I could come in five minutes if you got started right away,” says Niall, and Zayn grabs the swell of her breasts and Niall moans and presses herself closer. “Maybe two.”

“You’re exaggerating,” says Zayn, and Niall grins and says, “Maybe,” and they kiss again. Zayn has a hand at the elastic of Niall’s panties and slides her fingers in, feeling Niall’s softness and Niall tucks her head into Zayn’s neck—

Someone laughs.

Zayn swivels her head around, to see Liam holding Harry’s hand and leading her in. Harry’s starting to say, “We can—”

Then she catches sight of Zayn and Niall. Liam does too.

“Uh,” says Niall, probably because she’s shirtless and ought to explain that before anything. Though Zayn supposes that her hands up Niall’s skirt answers that question, too.

“We’re just,” Zayn tries to help out, and lets Niall down from the locker. “Uh.”

She glances at Niall and Niall shrugs. There’s not—Zayn still wants to kiss her, but not like this.

“Wow,” says Liam, blinking and looking at the two of them. “Alright. We were just about to—alright.”

“About to snog in the locker room, too?” Niall says, grabbing at her shirt.

Zayn’s not sure if she’s trying to make things more or less awkward. She’s also not sure which one it’s become.

“Ah,” says Harry, eyes darting between them. “Yeah, I guess, but—”

“Go ahead, we’re done here,” Niall says cheerfully, shirt on now. She grabs at her makeup kit, and heads towards another row of lockers. “Practice over then, Harry?” she calls over.

“Uh, yeah!” says Harry.

Liam is still looking at Zayn like she’s not sure whether to be worried or annoyed. Harry just looks confused.

“I’m going to go,” Zayn says suddenly. “I—”

She slips past Liam and Harry and hurries out. Maybe later Niall will leave by herself, but Zayn’s not going to risk any more embarrassment today.

R u goin 2 tell me whats hapenin b/w u and nialll??

Its nothing x

seriusly z

Seriously, its nothing

The next morning when Zayn’s driving them to school, Liam blurts, “Zayn and Niall were snogging during cheerleading practice yesterday.”

Zayn says, “Liam I’m about to throw you out of my car.”

“No, you’re not,” says Liam.

“Well that explains where you disappeared off to,” says Louis. “Either that, or you were giving birth in the bathroom or something.”

It takes him another second to say, “Wait, you were snogging Niall?”

“It’s.” Zayn shrugs. “It’s a thing or something, I guess. I dunno.”

“How does that—” Louis pauses for a moment, from the backseat. “So you’re dating?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” says Liam, before Zayn can answer.

Zayn shoots her a look. “What do you know?”

“I know you were about to say something like that,” says Liam.

“It’s not complicated,” Zayn says defensively. “She likes snogging me, I like snogging her. So we do it, sometimes.”

“I was waiting for the three of us to be together in person so that you’ll help me tell her that she’s being stupid,” Liam says to Louis. “Tell Zayn she’s being stupid.”

“Zayn, you’re being stupid.”

“Thank you,” says Liam.

“Though,” Louis continues. “If you’re snogging someone you like, who also doesn’t mind snogging with you, then that’s also very convenient. You get it, Zayn.”

“Thank you,” says Zayn, and Liam tries to punch his knee from the front passenger seat.

“Honestly,” Zayn says to Liam, “it’s something we both like and she hasn’t asked me about feelings yet or—anything, so. I’m just sorry you had to see that yesterday.”

“You ought to talk about it, though,” Liam advises. “And don’t worry, it wasn’t like—”

She blushes suddenly. “It wasn’t an awful sight to see,” Liam says quickly. “Just a little bit surprising, and awkward, well. Afterwards.”

“Mm,” says Louis. “In other words, she’s saying that you two’re hot.”

Both Zayn and Liam hit him then and Louis cries out, “The matriarchy is attacking me!”

Liam laughs and Zayn says, “Yeah, you better be fuckin’ terrified of the matriarchy.”

This time they’re in Niall’s car, and Zayn has her on her back, pressed against the backseats. Zayn’s hand is caught in her hair, feeling the back of her head and tugging only a little lightly until Niall is whining in her mouth.

“You don’t have anything better to do?” Niall murmurs when they break apart for a brief moment, Zayn’s hair falling into her face.

“Are you kidding? I just go home and nap for two hours,” says Zayn, and kisses the underside of her jaw.

She sees Niall smile from the corner of her eyes. “I don’t think that qualifies as a nap.”

“A lot of things are naps to me,” says Zayn, and places a kiss on the bridge of Niall’s nose, too. “For instance, math class.”

“Mm,” Niall agrees. Zayn kisses the splatter of light freckles on her cheeks, and Niall sighs, hand resting gently on Zayn’s waist.

“Turn us over,” she says, when Zayn looks into her eyes again.

“Sure,” says Zayn, and then Niall’s tiny body is resting on top of her as Zayn pushes back and curls her legs so that her knees are propping Niall closer to her. “You don’t have anything to do after school, either?’

“Well, m’brother’s probably wondering where I am,” says Niall. “But he doesn’t remember when exactly I have cheerleading practice, so he probably thinks I’m there.”

She places a strand of hair behind Zayn’s ear and kisses there, then wraps her arms around Zayn’s shoulders and tucks her head into Zayn’s chest. “You’re warm,” she says.

“Well what can you expect if you’re sitting right on top of me,” says Zayn, and Niall giggles. Zayn can feel it against her, tiny little tremors tickling her chest. She laughs, too.

“You’re nice,” says Niall, which is very vague. She brings her head back up. “Take your shirt off?”

Zayn says, “So demanding.” She sits up, though, and Niall gently places herself on Zayn’s legs so she’s not crushing them.

“Just thought it’d make you less warm,” Niall says. “Looking out for your best interest and things.”

Her tone is teasing, but Zayn hides a little smile as she takes her shirt off.

Niall had been the one to initiate it today, with a text during last period that read:

hey, are u busy afterschool??

No? why?

my car is the silver toyta in the 3rd row xx

Zayn didn’t know what Niall thought they were, because upon arriving at the silver Toyota, Niall had tugged her into the car and kissed her and then they fell into the backseat and laughed. Zayn’s insides felt like fizzy warm soda.

Now, Zayn’s slid back down horizontal and Niall is watching her, tracing over her neck and collarbone and looking at all the tattoos on her upper arms and stomach, which hadn’t been visible before.

“Wow,” says Niall, tracing over the heart at her hip. “I’m tempted to sing John Mayer now.”

“That might ruin the mood,” says Zayn, and Niall chuckles. She plays with the bottom of Zayn’s bra, brushing against her tit slightly, and then bites her lip. Zayn asks, “What’s with the staring?”

“Nothing’s with—” Niall’s fingers go to her bra strap. “I don’t know where to start.”

Zayn shrugs as best as she can against the leather seat. “Start wherever. We’ve got time.”

Niall nods. She hovers over Zayn’s arm and kisses the in progress tattoo sleeve there. She kisses all the way up to her neck, and chin, and then asks, “This isn’t your—you’ve done this before?”

Zayn shrugs, then, “I ought to tell you that I have a weakness for cheerleaders.”

“What if I quit the cheerleading team, then?” Niall teases.

She kisses, draws Zayn’s bottom lip between her teeth; when she pulls back, Zayn answers, “I’ll have a weakness for blond, spastic, terrible at basketball ex-cheerleaders then.”

“I am bad at basketball,” Niall agrees, and Zayn laughs against her jaw. “But you should see me play the guitar. Thinkin’ of doing gigs instead of going to uni next year.”

“Liam and Harry sing,” Zayn says. “You could start a band.”

Niall kisses her hairline, and asks, “Do you sing?”

“Only sometimes. In the shower and stuff,” says Zayn, and Niall’s fingers sweep across her boobs again. Zayn’s breath hitches.

“We could be a band,” Niall suggests. “A two-girl band.”

“We wouldn’t get much done,” says Zayn.

Niall laughs again, against the tattoo below her shoulder. “True,” she says, and licks at the ink.

Zayn shivers. Niall thumbs at a few tattoos, and then goes to kiss her boobs through her bra. Her lips close over a nipple and Zayn sighs, automatically pulling at Niall’s hair again. Niall makes little pleased sounds against the lace, and then pulls it down and mouths at Zayn’s skin.

“Niall,” says Zayn, and Niall sits back up; Zayn can see that her shirt is slipping and showing quite a bit of her pale skin. Niall’s wearing a wide-collared white tee today and a yellow skirt.

“This,” says Zayn, and Niall places a kiss to her mouth. Trying to formulate words in her head, Zayn tries again, “We.”

“Yeah,” Niall murmurs, even though there’s nothing she’s really agreeing with.

But Zayn is—she wants to know if Niall had asked her here because she just likes this, snogging every so often, or because maybe there’s an inkling of possibility of Niall actually liking her. Though Zayn supposes that if that were true, Niall would’ve told her by now; Niall knows that Zayn feels more than platonic about her, anyway.

“Niall,” she tries again, but Niall kisses away her words and soon enough her worries and drowning all flutters in Zayn’s stomach.

Several minutes later has her fingers sliding up Niall’s skirt and Niall’s open mouth making tiny noises against her shoulder, and Zayn decides that this is much better than a nap.

Zayn’s invited to a party that weekend, along with Liam and Louis and a bunch of other classmates in their year. Zayn’s been to parties before, because she’s friends with blokes like Sandy and Jon and they like seeing her drunk. She’ll admit that she’s pretty entertaining when she’s drunk, going around dancing with everyone and usually the instigator if someone’s brought pot.

This is one of Jon’s parties, though, so it’s not as crazy as others. Louis drives them there.

“No Liam?” Zayn asks, as they enter through the front door.

Louis shakes his head, and says, “She’s busy, apparently.”

“Oh, I’d assumed curfew.”

“Harry’s helping her out with homework,” says Louis. “Last minute or whatever.”

“So they’re probably snogging?”

“Most likely.”

Zayn doesn’t mind too much; every once in a while she ought not to rely on Liam or Louis to help her make friends. Louis has already found some boys from the football team, too, and has gone over to congratulate them for winning the most recent match. So Zayn’s pretty okay on her own.

She lingers around, adjusting her shirt when it slips a little from all the residue heat. She finds drinks, and then sort of people watches, some of the girls and boys who are dancing, and others just standing on the side and shouting conversation.

There’s a group of girls near her whom she assumes are just socializing by themselves, good friends or whatever—then she hears, “Zayn Malik?” and turns around.

“Yo,” says Zayn, sort of stupidly.

One of the girls—the one who’d said her name, probably—giggles and says, “Hi!”

“Hi,” says Zayn, bewildered. “How’d you know me?”

“We’re in the same art class,” says the girl. She has dark features and looks like a junior, Zayn thinks. One of the girls from art who are always staring at her whenever she walks in.

“I am, too,” says a girl next to her. “Your artwork is gorgeous, by the way.”

“Oh,” says Zayn, still surprised. “Thank you. I’m sure yours is great, as well.”

“Definitely not, compared to yours,” says another girl. “And I hear you custom made your own homecoming dress? And like, a lot of your other clothes?’

“Well,” says Zayn, as modestly as she can. “I like—I mean, I want to wear things I like, so I just—fix them for myself, and stuff—”

“That’s so awesome,” says the fourth girl. “You are so cool. Wow.”

“Not to mention that you’re gorgeous yourself,” says a fifth, and Zayn can’t help it: she starts giggling and snorting like a maniac.

“What’s even going on?” she says. “Is there—Are you guys high right now, or something?”

“We’re completely sober!” the girl who’d first said her name insists. Her eyes make her seem incredibly excitable, but Zayn does recognize her from art class now; she always looks like that. “I just—We’ve never talked to you before, so this seems like a good time to do it.”

“Well thanks, but I’m not, like.” Zayn’s so flustered that her fingernails are actually digging into each other, which has only happened one other time when she was in fourth grade and the first boy ever had asked her out and Zayn hadn’t been entirely sure how to say no. “It’s not, like. Yeah. You can talk to me whenever you want.”

“Thanks, Zayn,” another girl gushes. “You’re—You could probably teach the art class yourself, if you were allowed.”

“Oh no, I’d never have the patience,” Zayn says honestly.

“Yeah, but you’d be a lot more effective.”

Zayn laughs, “That’s true.” All their art teacher does is tell them what to do, and then naps in her office for the rest of the period. “Though, well, no, I’d probably be just as bad if her office is that comfortable.”

All fivegirls laugh and Zayn feels pleased. “I’d join you,” says one of them, and Zayn says, “You’ll have to fight me, then.”

As they continue, Zayn suddenly spots a familiar blonde head pass by them, heading for the drinks. “I’ll be,” Zayn says, and the junior girls are nodding. Zayn takes that as an okay for her to go.

She catches up with Niall and taps her on the shoulder. “Hey,” she says, suddenly breathlessly—must be all this adrenaline swarming around them.

Niall doesn’t look particularly like she’s at a party. “Hi,” she says. “What’s up?”

“I.” Zayn shrugs. “Nothing, what about you?”

Niall glances behind Zayn. “You were,” she says, and then clears her throat. “Nothing either. Harry’s not here.”

“Yeah, I know.” Zayn’s confused why Niall’s brought her up, but she goes with it. “She’s with Liam.”

Niall nods a little. Zayn sort of expects her to go, because she seems sort of distracted and not entirely—cheerful, like always? But Niall continues, “Louis’s here?”

“He’s the one who drove me,” says Zayn.

“Ah,” says Niall, and then randomly, “I can’t believe you haven’t seen Grease.”

“I probably have! When I was younger,” says Zayn defensively. “But you texted me that last week or whatever, and—how was I supposed to know, okay.”

Niall shakes her head, but she’s smiling now. “We go together,” she says. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Zayn says.

This would be a good time to bring up, like. Togetherness and feelings and stuff. But she and Niall are actually having a conversation not forced or by convenience, and. Zayn doesn’t know why Niall’s cheeks are flushed.

Niall glances towards the other side of the living room, where a bunch of boys are being loud and rowdy around the keg. Louis is one of them.

“I really want to do a keg stand,” she says.

Zayn encourages, “Go ahead and do one.”

“I can’t.” Niall gestures to her dress, which is a light leafy green. “My knickers, and—I don’t trust guys not to be creeps about it.”

“Oh,” says Zayn, and then very reasonably suggests, “I’ll help you out.”

“Really?” says Niall, and Zayn says, “Of course.” Niall beams, though Zayn’s not sure—it’s not like she wouldn’t have offered, much less said no if Niall had just asked her, or anything.

They push their way through the dancing crowd, and then Zayn starts to shout, “Coming through, coming through!” They make it over where Louis is with the other boys, laughing and drunk, hair slightly wet and slicked to the side.

“Move over, ya dick,” Zayn says to him, and Louis chortles and nearly falls off the sofa. “And help out, too.”

Niall braces her hands against the keg. Zayn hoists her up, one hand keeping her skirt from falling open and her other arm around both of Niall’s small ankles. Niall is, of course, light, and Louis is holding onto the tap and chanting with the other boys, “Go, go, go, go, go!”

Niall’s face is bright red when Zayn lets her down. Her eyes are bright, like she just had the time of her life.

“Thanks,” she says, straightening out her dress.

“You’ve got,” says Zayn, and laughs and wipes away some beer from Niall’s cheek.

“Yeah, I’ve got it everywhere,” says Niall. “You gonna try?”

“I’m not as insane as you,” says Zayn, and Niall laughs then.

Zayn thinks that maybe she’ll ask Niall to dance, or maybe take a break and smoke and Niall will join her, and maybe they can—she doesn’t know, snog in Jon’s backyard or something. But then a very laughing Louis is shoved into her arms by a not very amused Dan.

Zayn struggles to catch him because Louis isn’t exactly trying to keep himself up.

“He needs to get home,” Dan says. “Like, now.”

“Cockblock,” Zayn mutters in Louis’s ear, and Louis giggles.

“More like pussy block,” he says, and Zayn firmly hits him on the side of his head.

“Ow,” he whines. “That hurts.”

“He’s been doing shotguns all night,” Dan tells them.

“Christ,” says Zayn, and then hitches Louis’s arm around her neck. “Come on, you piece of shit.”

“Not nice,” says Louis, pouting.

Zayn ignores him and glances at Niall, who looks caught between worried and amused.

“Suppose I’ll text you later, then,” says Niall, which is better than Zayn’s expected ‘see you on Monday.’

“Yeah,” says Zayn. She tosses Niall the beer she’d grabbed earlier but hadn’t opened. “Take it,” she says, and then, “Bye.”

“I think I’ve drunken enough for a while!” Niall calls after her.

Zayn absentmindedly waves a hand behind her, and says, “Say goodbye, Louis.”

“BYE,” Louis shouts in her ear, and Zayn almost falls and pushes him aside.

She hears Niall laugh behind them.

Zayn stumbles out of the art room with Niall right behind her. When she turns around, though, Niall’s disappeared into the opposite direction of the crowd without even so much of a goodbye. Confused, Zayn adjusts her backpack and turns in a couple circles on the spot until she suddenly sees Louis and Liam down the hall. She hurries up to them.

“… and she looked at me. She looked at me! I swear, Liam,” Louis’s saying when Zayn catches up. “She knows my face. That’s all I need. It’s the first step to true love.”

“Right,” says Liam.

“No, I’m serious!” Louis actually sounds like he believes himself, too. “And when I tried to sneak backstage, she was there, and she asked—she actually talked to me—’Were you at last week’s show?’ I’m not giving you the piss, Li. I am serious.”

“Right,” Liam says again, and then looks at Zayn. “Hi Zayn. When’d you get here?”

“Oh,” Zayn starts.

Louis is too quick and rolls his eyes and says, “Oh, she was probably snogging Niall again.”

“Louis,” says Zayn.

“I don’t hear you denying it.”

“Were you?” asks Liam, and Zayn slumps and nods.

“You guys,” Liam starts. Then she seems to reconsider her words and puts her hand up. “Never mind,” she says. “Harry says that sometimes other people’s businesses are theirs and not my own, so I shouldn’t bother trying to figure them out, much less think about them—”

“Harry told you all that?”

“Well, no,” Liam says to Louis, “but I figure that’s how I’d mind my own business. Do what you want, Zayn,” she says. “Whatever.”

She looks like she wants to give Zayn some advice, though.

“Thanks,” Zayn says gratefully.

They make their way to study hall. Louis says, “Okay, but Eleanor. Eleanor knows me. A famous person knows me.”

“Are you sure you didn’t dream the whole thing, Louis?” Liam says doubtfully, and Louis shakes his head rapidly.

“See,” he says, “that’s what I thought at first, but I still got—” He pulls out a small stub from his pocket. “The ticket from last night,” he explains. “See where I accidentally ripped it when the security guards threw me out before I could answer her question? That,” he says, “is proof that it actually happened.”

“You do have a memorable face,” Liam admits.

“Not one that people would want to remember, though,” says Zayn, and Louis elbows her in her seat.

“Whatever,” he says. “And I’m not Liam so I don’t care about minding my own business. You and Niall are still—?”

“Yes,” Zayn says. “That’s it.”

Louis has his eyebrows furrowed. “Really,” he says, “this is the slowest you’ve ever—I mean, not that you’re fast, but. You can be whatever you want, but you should find out if Niall wants you two to be something that actually makes sense.”

“She would’ve told me if she did,” says Zayn. “As far as I figure.”

“But you’ve kissed her so many times,” says Liam. “Shouldn’t you be dating?”

“Have you shagged?” Louis asks bluntly.

Zayn tries to hide her face. “Uh.”

“Oh my god,” Louis says, as Liam squeaks, “Even Harry and I haven’t—!”

“We just,” says Zayn.

Louis says, “I totally take back what I said about you being slow.”

“We’re—everything’s just fun for us, so we don’t worry about it.” Zayn shrugs. “I mean, I don’t, and you’ve seen Niall, she’d probably mention things.”

“She would,” says Liam.

“Where did you—?” says Louis.

Zayn feels her cheeks getting warm. “That is undisclosed information!” she says defiantly, before, “okay, her car.”

“Wow that’s romantic,” Louis says dryly.

“Wouldn’t that hurt?” asks Liam.

“Well, it’s not like I went down on her, it was just my fingers—”

Liam covers her ears and says, “Wow.” Louis says, “I don’t know how to feel about knowing so much information,” and Zayn just cackles.

Louis starts making his confetti stars with some spare notebook paper, and Zayn gives up on her nap due to his loud scissor cutting and gets him to teach her. Moments later has Liam joining them, and the three of them make notebook paper confetti stars for the rest of the period, and Liam jokingly complains, “We’re wasting so much paper.”

Zayn takes the stars with her through the next few periods. When they arrive at lunch, Liam and Louis go into the lunch line and Zayn goes to their usual lunch table and behind Niall.

“Happy birthday!” she cheers, sprinkling the confetti stars just as Niall’s about to take a bite out of her sandwich.

Niall turns around and blinks some stars out of her eyelashes. “It’s not my birthday,” she says.

“I know,” says Zayn, and plops down beside her. “Well. I didn’t know. Now I do.”

“Niall’s birthday is in September,” Harry says helpfully from across them.

Zayn says to Niall, “Well now I know when I’ll get you a present.”

“Will you remember then?” Niall asks.

“Probably not, that’s like another year.” Zayn scoffs. “I’ll probably start asking you every month, like, in the spring and then on. Won’t miss it that way.” She finger guns at Niall.

Niall giggles and goes ahead to her sandwich. When Zayn thinks about it, she hadn’t said really anything to make Niall laugh. She’ll take it, though.

Liam and Louis come back from the lunch line and Louis says to Harry, “Hey babe.” Liam glares at him and puts an arm around Harry’s waist.

“Aw, jealousy,” Louis teases.

Liam sticks her tongue out at him. Harry says, “No reason for that,” but cuddles up closer to Liam, anyway.

Zayn catches Niall’s eye at that moment and they share a small smile. Zayn’s insides start doing that flipping thing again, even though she was sure that they would stop.

“Oh, Harry, Niall,” says Louis, “you have to hear the news. You know Eleanor, that—my Eleanor, yeah?”

Liam whispers something to Harry and Harry giggles.

Louis glares. “She,” he says, “a very famous fashion icon, knows who I am. I snuck out back—”

“Like he always does,” Zayn says.

“—to try to see her again, and maybe meet her—”

“And almost get run over by her limousine again,” Liam says, and they all burst into fits of giggles.

Louis glares at all of them, and then crosses his arms. “You know,” he says. “If you keep interrupting, maybe I won’t finish the story.”

“Oh, god, please,” says Zayn.

But Harry says, “No, I want to hear the rest!”

“You really don’t,” Liam assures her.

Harry whispers something to her this time, and Liam has to stuff her face into Harry’s shoulder from laughing too obnoxiously.

Louis puts his hands up. “I give up. I give up. I’m talking to a bunch of children.”

“Uh huh,” says Zayn, and she and Niall grin at each other again.

When lunch is over, the others pick up their trash and backpacks and Zayn and Niall do too. As Niall turns to leave, Zayn grabs her hand and mindlessly says, “Wait for me.”

She actually hadn’t really expected Niall to do so. But Niall does stop and looks surprised at herself, and waits for Zayn.

Zayn gathers her things and then says, “Um.”

“We should head to the trash cans, shouldn’t we?”

“Yeah,” says Zayn, so they do and throw their things away and leave.

Louis and Harry and Liam are already talking and laughing about something ahead, and Zayn thinks that what they both should do is try to catch up to them. But she holds onto her backpack straps sort of nervously with Niall walking beside her. After a second of empty contemplation, she goes to—hold one of Niall’s hands.

“What—” Niall starts, and Zayn leans in and presses their mouths together.

It’s the same, just. Different. Because Zayn pulls away and they’re not in a closed off and confined space. Niall blinks at her stupidly and Zayn feels like an idiot.

“Just,” Zayn says. “If you ever, um. Want to like, be something. Then. Let me know, because I. Yeah.”

Niall’s face is still blank, and then she looks up at Zayn.

“You’re not,” she says, and then shakes her head. A smile appears on her face, though. “You haven’t really improved on talking since the powderpuff game.”

“It’s—Well!”

“I thought you should’ve, by now,” says Niall. And then: “I—Do you?”

“I was the one who—I asked you to Homecoming!” Zayn splutters.

“Yeah, but you could’ve easily changed your mind. You’ve got as many—you’ve got more people who like you,” says Niall. “Like guys who stare and girls at parties and things. I—” She shrugs.

“You never actually told me anything, though,” says Zayn. “Like, I’m okay if all you want to do is snog and not let anyone know, like—snogging is cool, yeah—”

“No!” says Niall, so quickly that Zayn for a moment thinks she wants to just stop everything. “I mean, I texted you that—and I’m always—”

It occurs to Zayn suddenly that Niall’s very flustered by all this, had been, and maybe. Maybe she thought that snogs were the only thing that Zayn wanted, too.

“Neither of us are very good at this,” she says, and Niall says, “I am usually great.”

“You are.” Zayn smiles. “I. Snogging in public would be nicer, I reckon.”

“I agree,” says Niall. “And other things, like hair. And touching. And hair touching.”

“That too,” says Zayn. “I’ll give you lots of cookies and help you do keg stands.”

“You’re too much.” Both of Niall’s hands are entwined in her hands, now. Zayn wonders when that happened.

Niall says, “I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out earlier, though.”

“It may not look like it, but Louis is the smart one,” says Zayn. “With things that I don’t get, apparently.”

Niall hums. “Yeah,” she says, and loosely swings their arms. Zayn catches Niall’s hips, around a light blue skirt. Niall continues humming, and Zayn swears she knows the song.

“Speaking of,” she says. “I know I said something about snogging in public earlier, but we don’t have to do that now.”

“We can snog somewhere else?”

“I’m glad you’re thinking like me,” Zayn says, and grins. She adds, “We’ll have to sort our schedules out, to figure out what classes we can skip enough and what we can’t and align our times together, though.”

“Okay, now I’m not thinking like you.” Niall giggles.

“Well you’ve got cheerleading and I’ve got naps and we both have cars.” Zayn looks up thoughtfully. “And I suppose we might start going to movies and dinners and other places like that.”

“How do you suppose?”

Niall’s swinging their hands together again.

Zayn pushes back a too-big smile and says, “Just a feeling.” The smile might’ve come out for a second, though.

And Niall might’ve seen it, because Zayn feels her squeeze her hand. “Just a feeling, huh?” Niall says, and they continue walking down the hall.

They’re not in any hurry and Zayn’s throat still feels like it’s fluttering and she wants to hold both of Niall’s hands and sing into her mouth.

She tells Niall this and Niall giggles and says, “Why not?” and her eyes are brightest when Zayn’s mouth is against hers for the first few seconds. Zayn tucks this information away in her head to hold onto, along with the corners of Niall’s eyes like the folds of her skirts, Niall’s hands curling desperately into Zayn’s shirt as their noses bump, Niall whispering, “You’re probably the best thing ever,” before Zayn presses her lips right above Niall’s, teasing until Niall tilts her head up for a proper kiss, spoiling them both.

Notes:

I started this in April and finally finished it oops!! This is the partner/side story/sort of sequel to Flirt, and even though you don't necessarily have to read it, it does explain the events that happen before this story n_n

This was supposed to be a Zayn-wooing-Niall fic, and then it turned into a large excuse for me to write lots of girls kissing in mostly private spaces. There is still some wooing, though. And Zayn/Niall cuteness. Idk, girl Direction with boy Louis is my favorite. As well girl Liam/girl Zayn/boy Louis dynamics.

And yes there are Fifth Harmony and One Direction's actual band cameos

I might write a Louis/Eleanor sometime but whoooooooo knoooooooows :D

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Skirting

by aroceu

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© 2009-2026 aroceu