I wake up to sunlight peering in through closed curtains. I squeeze my eyes shut to the worst hangover I've ever had. I force myself to sit up as I stretch my feet about to step down off of the bed, when my foot pokes something hard. Zayn. "Zayn?" I rub my eyes. He doesn't say anything, but gets up off the floor and goes to the bathroom. I get up out of bed, looking in the mirror. "Damn." I lightly touch the purple and black circles underneath my eyes, and the redness around my nose. "The hell?" I whisper, not remembering last night. "You passed out." A deep, raspy voice says from behind me. "Why?" I studder. "By the toilet. Someone put something in your drink." Zayn had a thick English accent, I wonder why he is in a small town Idaho. "Oh." I whisper, Turning around, not looking at Zayn. I feel him get closer to me. I look up at him, his quiff messily swiped back, his tattoos redder than usual. He brushes his hand with mine, and bites his lip, looking down at me. I get nervous and pull away. "Do you need a ride?" He looks down At me. "Um, yeah. Ill call my friend it's fine -" "I'll take you." He interrupts. "Zayn it's fine I'll -" "I'll take you." He whips around to face me and touches his forehead with mine. I turn my head and pull away from his grasp on my arm. "Do I scare you?" He smirks.