Ariana's POV
I woke up early the next morning, the sun filtering through the window of my new room. I was sprawled across an itchy mattress with only my Pooh Bear blanket from when I was a child wrapped around me. After Camila and I had talked for ages about how excited we were to live together, I'd been more than ready to crash, far too exhausted to search through my boxes for my bedding. I crawled out of bed and into the shower in the bathroom I would have to share with Camila, the only bad part of this living situation. I let the hot water wake me up and unstick my body from the long flight yesterday. When I was done showering I dressed in the first outfit I could find, which happened to be my favorite skinny jeans and a floral crop top, and padded to the kitchen in my fuzzy socks. I sat at the counter, combing my hair, while Camila started making eggs.
"So I never did ask you last night, but who gave you a ride?" Camila asked, her back turned to me while she stirred the eggs.
"Zayn, I met him on the plane." I answered.
"Zayn Malik."
"Yes." I said, though her tone didn't make it seem like a question, but I answered anyway.
"Have you logged onto Twitter this morning?" She asked, turning to me. Her eyes an odd mixture of amusement and concern. I pursed my lips, confused.
"Nope, not since yesterday. Why?" Instead of answering she turned to grab her laptop off the counter. She typed something in quickly and turned the screen to face me. The screen showed Zayn's tweet, well my tweet on his account. "Zayn's such a sweetheart. Thanks for the ride love. Xox arianarose24" it said, with one of the selfies I took attached to it. I glanced down below the tweets to the replies. Some were quite nasty with inappropriate language and remarks. Some were very nice compliments. Most were all capitalized tweets questioning who I was and why I was with Zayn. Just as I was reading a particularly nasty one I heard my phone ringing in my room. I hurried up to get it, pushing the mean words out of my head. They didn't know me, they had no right not to like me.
"Hello?" I answered the unfamiliar UK number. I heard Camila coming into the room behind me.
"Hey Ariana, it's Zayn." His voice was low and quiet like he was trying not to be overheard, I distantly heard the sounds of cars through the receiver.
"Oh hey Zayn. Listen, I'm really sorry about what I tweeted. I didn't know it would upset your fans so much. I should have asked you if it was okay first." I gushed my apology. What if the fans got mad at him? I felt so bad.
"What?" he spoke after a minute of silence. "You're apologizing… to me..?"
"Yes, of course, it's my fault. I feel so bad. How can I fix it?"
Zayn hesitated for a second before I heard his burst of laughter. It sounded surprised but relieved. I raised my eyes at Cam who had been listening intently to my end of the conversation. She gave me a questioning look. "What's funny?" I asked, miffed by his sudden amusement.
"I was so worried you would be upset by the comments some of them were making. They can be pretty harsh."
"Oh, no. I mean, yes, some of them were quite rude, but they don't know me at all, so their words don't mean anything to me." I assured him.
"I'm glad you think like that." He muttered quietly. Then he spoke louder. "I'm really relieved you weren't upset by them. Most of our fans mean no harm, they're just a tad over emotional. And you did nothing wrong, you aren't used to hanging out with a celebrity." He chuckled. "But I have to go. I was at a meeting with the boys when I saw all the tweets. I kind of ran out to call you when I saw them, they're a bit pissed. So I'll text you later then," he paused before hurriedly adding "if that's okay?"
"Of course you can text me later. Apologize to your friends for me as well. Talk to you later then Zayn!" I said, hanging up the phone and setting it back down on the bedside table. Camila looked at me with questioning eyes. I explained what Zayn said, the part of the conversation she couldn't hear.
"I think he likes you." Camila said as we headed back to the kitchen. She turned the burner of the stove back on to finish the eggs. I rolled my eyes. Camila was a hopeless romantic. She tended to over exaggerate relationships. Three years ago, about a year after we had met on Twitter, she'd made the mistake of thinking her first, extremely attractive, young boss had been totally in love with her. When she tried to basically seduce him after work one day, she'd been fired. I still remember her Skyping me as she tearfully voiced the story.
"Camz, we just met yesterday. Don't get ahead of yourself. Plus, I have a boyfriend." I said calmly, sipping my orange juice.
"He was worried about your feelings. Clearly he already cares about you." She argued. She poured some scrambled eggs onto the plate in front of me and handed me a fork. "And I know that he is single. He's been single for months."
"He's a sweet guy, I'm sure he'd do the same thing if it'd been you, or any other girl, or boy, for that matter."
"Whatever." She clucked, not believing me. "But since I am single, if you don't want him, I'll take him."
I rolled my eyes again, but couldn't help but grin at her hopeful expression. "I'll see what I can do."
Zayn's POV
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and ran back inside. The door slammed shut loudly behind me as the people sitting around the table all looked up to glare at me. "Sorry," I muttered, taking my seat next to Harry.
"What was that?" Harry muttered to me under his breath as Simon and our sound manager started discussing when to start recording our next album.
"Long story, I'll explain after." I whispered back. I tried to pay attention to what everyone was saying but the words ended up blurring together as my head was overtaken with thoughts of Ariana. I would think she would be upset. Perrie, Eleanor, Danielle, they'd been upset over even the smallest of angry tweets about them, even after being with us for a while. They were quite good about hiding it, but it was easy to tell how truly upset they were by it. Ariana clearly wasn't upset. She was worried, for me. No, she was worried she'd upset the fans that had been insulting her. I tried to think of a logical explanation for this. After ten minutes the only logical conclusion I could come up with was that she was strong, confident, and different. Confident enough to realize what those girls were saying was untrue and meant nothing. Strong enough to look past the insults and not worry about them. And different because I'd never met anyone who would feel sorry for upsetting someone who was insulting them without even knowing them. I shook my head. This girl was incredible.
An hour later, the meeting was finished, and I held a copy of my schedule for the next six months firmly in my hand. I grabbed my leather jacket off the chair and started to head out. A large hand placed on my shoulder stopped me.
"I'm still waiting on that story." Harry said, lifting his hand and matching pace with me as we walked outside. He was coming back to my place to watch a football game that was on anyway, so there was no way I'd be able to get out of telling him. It wasn't that I didn't want to tell him because I didn't trust him or something like that. There wasn't really anything secret about it anyway, except for one thing. I wanted to keep Ariana to myself. I sounded selfish and kind of crazy, especially considering that I only met her yesterday. There was just something about her. I wanted to get to know her by myself. Liam and Louis both had their girlfriends that they'd been dating for ages, but Harry was a definite babe magnet and Niall's sweet innocence attracted girls like bees to honey. I was worried they might realize how awesome she was and try to steal her away. I sighed. I was being ridiculous. I had no right to even think I had any claim over her. I barely knew the girl for God's sake. I needed help. I pushed a hand through my hair and got into my car. Harry slid into the passenger side, looking at me in anticipation. I sighed again. As I drove, I told the story of how I'd met Ariana on the plane, given her a ride home, and the tweet problems that had come up today.
"Is she fit?" Harry asked immediately after my story was finished.
I groaned. "Yes." I admitted. We were at my place by now. I unlocked the door and handed him my phone, the pictures she took of herself on the screen.
"Damn, damn, holy shit, damn." He commented on each one, his eyes widening. "She's totally sexy."
"Don't even think about it." I warned him, trying to keep my voice light, but slipping a bit. "She has a boyfriend named Jason back in America she's doing a long distance thing with."
"Challenge accepted." Harry said confidently. He strode into the kitchen, his shoulders back.
"Harry, don't try it." I moaned.
"Bro, her boyfriend is an ocean away. She's bound to get a little lonely." He said as he rummaged through my fridge. "Besides, football has a goalie, but that doesn't mean you can't score."
I muttered angrily under my breath, snatching a water bottle from the fridge and treading furiously into the living room. I knew he would be interested in her. She's totally perfect. He hadn't even met her yet. I flipped the game on and sulked silently, glaring at the T.V. Halfway through, my phone started buzzing on the coffee table.
"Hello?" I answered instantaneously when I saw the name and picture on my display.
"Hey!" her voice was light and breezy, effortlessly happy.
"What's up?"
"Well, Camila and I are bored. We're not quite bored enough to start unpacking my things, but we're bored. We were wondering if you'd be so kind as to entertain us for the afternoon. I mean, besides Camz, you're my only friend in England right now and Cam is claiming all of her friends are busy."
Harry, having heard part of the conversation, wiggled his eyebrows and nodded eagerly. "Invite her over!" he mouthed.
I was again worried that Harry would steal her before I even had a chance but I did want to hang out with her. And there was really no way of getting rid of Harry nicely or without mentioning the fact that I was going crazy over a girl I met less than 24 hours ago.
"Well, Harry's at my place watching the football game, you guys can come join if you want." I offered, half grudging, half excited.
"That sounds perfect. Anything's better than unpacking dozens of boxes and organizing them. Text me your address. See you in a bit!" she hung up. Harry grinned mischievously at me, a determined glint in his eyes. Once Harry targeted a girl, he was determined. He always got what he wanted. I'd always been slightly envious of that but now I resented it. Between Harry and Jason I wouldn't get a chance to even just be friends with Ariana.
