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“What are you doing?” I ask, eyebrows raised.
He smiles. “Oh, nothing. A little shopping.”
“For toilet paper?”
What a weirdo. “Did they run out in the—ohhh! Wait! Are we going to toilet paper Nick Hartzell’s house tonight?”
“WOLO, right?”
“Ha ha, for sure. Let’s do it,” I say, hoping to hide how excited I am to spend more time with him. That kiss was just . . . everything.
Zayn purchases the toilet paper, and we begin walking towards Nick’s house. We pass by a huge oak tree. Not just any old tree, butthetree. The one where Zayn and I shared our first kiss. We had been at a party at Nick Hartzell’s— our unofficial second date. We had only gone to dinner once before, and I remember thinking he was probably going to ghost me. But, a few days later, he invited me to a party at Nick’s.
I remember feeling like an outsider, surrounded by nothing but drunken girls and loud football players. Zayn held my hand the entire time and introduced me as his girlfriend. Sure, it was presumptuous, but my heart was thrilled.
After about an hour of uncomfortable meet-and-greets with people who I already knew (but who didn’t know me), Zayn felt my discomfort and asked if I wanted to go for a walk. We were hand-in-hand when I first learned that Zayn was the boy whose house burnt down only a few blocks over from where I grew up. There were rumors that it had been a couple of neighborhood kids messing around, but Zayn told me he was almost certain it was his own father. I remember wrapping my arms tightly around him to comfort him.
“It’s fine,” he’d told me. “The minute I’m done with high school, I’m out of here.”
“Your dad that bad, huh?” I asked.
He shrugged.
I remember looking at the oak tree before he said, “Want to run away together?”
“I think I like walking better,” I said teasingly, my arms still holding onto his.
“Deal. Let’swalkfrom this town and never look back.” My palms were drenched with sweat. Knot in my throat. Warmth flooding my body as he leaned down and kissed me. We ended up spending the next two hours making out right there at the base of the old oak tree.
Zayn clears his throat. “Almost there,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. “You doin’ okay?”
I release a deep breath. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just zoned out for a bit.”
“Mhmm,” he says before his eyes shift to the oak tree.
We make our way up to the Hartzell residence, holding a bag of toilet paper rolls. “Um, how sure are we he still lives here?” I ask.
“Oh, I’m sure. He keeps trying to invite me over, just because we played football together when we were kids. With how he treats women, Hell would have to freeze over before that happens,” he explains. “Any time I see him, he reminds me he still lives in the same spot and to come by anytime.”
I watch as Zayn conducts a brief check to ensure no one is outside watching us.
“Coast looks clear. You ready Miss Parker?”
“Wait,” I say, placing my hand on Zayn’s and stopping him from pulling a roll out of the bag. “Does he still live with his parents?”
“Nope, just him. His parents left for Europe shortly after high school and let him have the house. I think they can’t stand him just the same as everyone else.”
“Oh okay, good.” I pull out a roll and hand it to him before grabbing another for myself. “Um, one more question . . . we just throw it at the house and the roll does the rest of the job, yeah?”
He laughs. “Ah, my sweet innocent angel Autumn,” he teases. “I forgot for a second you’ve never done this. But yes, aim high and throw. We gotta be quick about it too so he doesn’t wake up and come out and bust us. Got it?”
I squint my eyes at him and scoff. “Just another virginity of mine you’re taking.”
Zayn busts out laughing. My face beams. It feels so good to make him laugh.
“Shhh,” I say with my finger pressed up against my mouth. “Always gotta be the loud one.”
I watch as his lips part dramatically. My mind briefly wonders if I should drop this toilet paper and kiss him again.
