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By the time the song ends, I’m finding it hard to step away from him, but somehow I manage to do exactly that. Twisting on my feet, I stare at him, the distance between us vast even though in reality it’s only a few feet.
“You may be the Breakers, but you willnotbreak me,” I say, my nostrils flaring as I echo Sia’s words. It’s a warning as much as it is the truth. I love him, but no matter how talented a dancer, a kisser, I won’t let him break me.
I will not letthembreak me. Not now. Not ever.
Because I won’t survive it again.
Zayn nods, his expression beaten, sad almost. “What if I told you that I don’t want to?”
I bark out a laugh, my eyes narrowing on him and it’s only then that I really see him. He’s still wearing the same clothes from Friday night. My anger was too vivid, too in the moment to allow me to really see him.
But now I do.
I see the dark circles beneath his eyes.
I see the sorrow on his face.
I see something I hadn’t before.
I seehim. My best friend.
I see the boy I loved morphing into a man who’s no longer a stranger.
Right here, right now, he’s in front of me. There is no mask, no bravado, no distance. Just him,just Zayn, and my determination to hold onto the hate begins to crumble.
