Chapter 57 Not Yours Anymore

Chapter 57 Not Yours Anymore
Zayn is still standing, his arms crossed, and his eyes moving between Carl and me.
"Come on," he says to Vinny and Jay. "Let's move."
"Chill for a second, big guy," Vinny says, tightening his arm around me. "Let's join them."
Zayn rolls his eyes but pulls a chair from the next table over and sits directly across from me.
He's so big that the metal seat looks small.
I meet his gaze.

He doesn't smile. But he doesn't look away either.
"How's the head healing, by the way?" Jay chips in with a smirk. "Zayn told us you were seeing double and…"
He stops talking when Zayn pins him with a sharp glare.
Jay rolls his eyes, unfazed. "Anyway. I just want you to know that I'm proud of you, babe. Starting a fight over your brother is some unhinged shit. Something Zayn would do."
"Can we please stop talking about the fight?" I press my palms against the table. "It's been four days. Four days of everyone staring, filming, whispering. I'm over it."

Jay shrugs, deciding to taste Carl's abandoned coleslaw. He takes a spoonful and immediately makes a face like he's been poisoned. "Jesus. What is this? It tastes atrocious"
"It's coleslaw," Carl says flatly.
"It's a crime against vegetables."
"Can you guys leave, please?" I say again, my patience waning. "You kinda interrupted us."
Vinny takes a long slurp of my cappuccino, ignoring me. "Mmm. Cold. And sad."
He sets it down with a grimace. "Like your love life, apparently."

Jay lets out a loud guffaw.
"Vinny," Zayn warns.
"What? I'm just saying." He leans back, his arm still slung over my shoulder. "Little sister here went from zero to brawler in one semester. I'm so invested now, I need updates."
Carl clears his throat. "Vincent Mathias Cross, do you mind? Like Ashleigh said, we were having a private conversation before you so rudely interrupted."
"About what?" Jay asks curiously, finally abandoning the coleslaw. "Botany? Because I have thoughts."
"Nobody asked for your thoughts," Zayn mutters.

"I think photosynthesis is overrated," Jay continues, regardless. "Plants just sit there doing nothing."
"Plants provide oxygen, dummy." I snap. "Which you're wasting."
It's Vinny's turn to laugh. "Damn." He snorts. "She's got you there."
Zayn says nothing, quietly watching me from across the table with that stoic expression.

"Kinda surprised you two can sit together without tearing the place apart," Jay says, gesturing lazily between Zayn and Carl.
I blink, confused. "What do you mean?"
Carl lets out a long groan and rolls his eyes skyward, looking like he regrets every life choice that led to this moment.
Jay grins, enjoying himself. "Let's just say the last time these two were in the same room, on Christmas, the club literally had to throw us all out."
I look toward Zayn.
He's got that blank, distant look he gets when something's hovering outside his memory.

The amnesia still steals pieces like that—random, unpredictable chunks.
He shrugs cluelessly.
I turn back to Carl, narrowing my eyes. "Really?"
"Yeah," Jay answers for him. "Carl accused Zayn of having some secret side chick or whatever…total bullshit, by the way… and Zayn just lost it." He mimics an uppercut with his free hand. "Best ass-whooping I've seen in years. Bouncers had to drag them apart like alley cats."
Carl mutters under his breath, his cheeks flushing. "I was just messing with him."
I pin him with a judgmental stare.

He avoids my eyes, suddenly very interested in rearranging his coleslaw with his fork.
Messing with him.
Right.
Carl's the only one at this table, hell, probably the only one on campus, who knows the full truth about Zayn and me.
He's known since before the coma, before Australia, before everything went to hell.
So when he "accused" Zayn of having a secret girl, he wasn't guessing.
He was goading.
He was poking the bear on purpose.

"I believe I'm more interested in why you all were at the club on Christmas," I say, pinning each of them with a glare—Jay first, then Vinny, then Carl.
Vinny immediately throws both hands up in surrender, pointing at Jay. "It was his idea."
Jay leans back in his chair, smirking like he's proud of it. "Guilty. But we also needed to get Zayn out of the house. He'd been moping around like a lost puppy for weeks. Figured a night out, some drinks, and hot girls was the standard cure."

Vinny nods enthusiastically. "Zayn only came along because I basically dragged his ass."
I do the mental math immediately.
The timeframe lines up perfectly with when I'd shut Zayn out completely (after the pictures from Maya).
My stomach twists.
Zayn's eyes dart to me like he's doing the same calculation. He doesn't say anything, but the muscle in his jaw flexes hard.
"So you took him to a club," I say slowly, "to cheer him up?"

Jay shrugs, unbothered. "Pretty much. He was straight up miserable, Ash. And his stubborn ass wouldn't tell us why. So, we figured if we got enough liquor in him, he'd at least forget his sorrows."
"Enough talk about that, please," Zayn finally speaks. "That period of my life is over."
An awkward silence falls before Carl stands abruptly. "Anyway," he says, "I have to go."
He's probably too embarrassed to remain seated.
"Think about what I said, okay?" He says softly, looking down at me.
I nod. "Yeah. Thanks. For everything."

Jay watches him go, whistling low. "Ex-boyfriend's looking jacked," he observes. "When did that happen?"
"Focus, jackass", Vinny says, slapping the table. Then he turns to me. "Why don't you come to the party at Jesse's? Jay's DJing. Oh, and bring that your cute friend, Keisha."
"She's not going," Zayn says.
I glare at him. "Excuse you?"
"She's concussed, you idiot," he continues, talking over me like I'm not there.
"I can speak for myself."

"Then speak." He leans forward, crowding my space without touching me. "Tell Vinny you're not going to a party four days after you got your skull rattled. Tell him you're not that stupid."
I feel insulted, my face flushing with anger and hurt.
"Maybe I am that stupid," I snap. "Because you don't get to tell me what to fucking do."
Vinny's eyes bounce between us, wide and uncomfortable. "Okay, kids. Tone it down a bit. This isn't worth a full-on war in the middle of the coffee shop."
Zayn doesn't look away from me. His jaw is locked so tight I can see the muscle straining under the skin.

"Fine," he says, coldly. "Go if you want. Get hit in the head again. See if I carry you out twice."
He turns to Vinny. "You'll be the one responsible for her."
Vinny scoffs, holding up both hands. "Whoa, slow down, bro." He looks at me, his expression now apologetic. "Change of plans, Ash. Don't come. Stay back, rest your head. But, extend the invite to Keisha, yeah?"
I'm locked in a glaring contest with Zayn, neither of us blinking or breathing right.
The air between is charged, electric, like one wrong word could set the whole table ablaze.

Then Zayn breaks first, rising to his feet.
Jay and Vinny exchange a quick look before they rise too, following him.
"Bye, Ash," Jay says over his shoulder, giving me a small, awkward wave. "Make sure to rest that head, yeah?"
Vinny stays a second longer, mouthing 'sorry' before he jogs to catch up.
But Zayn doesn't look back.
He disappears through the café doors without another word.