Just A Little Bit

Grace's Point of View

I didn't know he took Politics. Louis told me all of his classes but failed to tell me that. My breathing was a little too face paced as I walked to the small cafeteria we had. I didn't have another class until after noon so I had an hour or two. I wonder what classes Calum had?

I whipped out my phone and dialed his number, hoping this would distract me from meeting Zayn's somewhat warm stare during the speech this morning. Crap and I had to be there every week for the next month! Fuck.

I sat at a small corner table, staring outside. Unfortunately the view wasn't that great. It was a small area of the perimeter where a tree shaded a corner. Most of the smokers would hang out around there. I wrinkled my nose as I saw two people arguing with each other.

Calum picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hey babe."

His nickname warmed my heart and momentarily put me to ease.

"Hi Calum. I just wanted to talk to you about-"

"I'm sorry but I'm really busy right now. Really busy. Can I call you back in a couple hours?"

The fuck! I just fucking called you! At least he answered. I sighed heavily, glancing up at the clock and shaking my head a bit. "No, no. I'll be in class. I'll call you tonight."

"That's great. Good luck today."

I sighed. "Thanks." The ringer sounded and I shifted in my seat. Fuck him. It really only hit me now that I knew nothing about him. I couldn't sworn he didn't have classes until later at night or maybe not even until tomorrow. I'm sure he wasn't at work, he doesn't work Mondays. I frown, turning my attention back on the smoking couple.

There was a lady who had soft tears running down her cheeks while the guy had his back to me, one hand clenched in a tight fist while the other held the bud of the cigarette between his forefinger and middle finger. I watched intently as they lunged at each other, speaking rapidly and probably with lots of anger or emotion. The poor girl was crying, for fucks sake.

Probably got pregnant and the guy was arguing at her. Blaming it on her, most likely. I don't think men realize that they are the reason we get pregnant. Without their fucking sperm swimming through us, we will not have babies. Fucking use protection because birth control doesn't always work. And I guess condoms sometimes don't either. So just don't have sex.

Oh my God I really shouldn't be fucking judging these people. I feel bad, watching them for a minute or two more.

I stood up, sighing dramatically again before turning towards the exit. Might as well go study somewhere. Or go off campus but I'd have to walk. Fuck this I hate college at the moment.

"Delia just shut the fuck up!"

The voice was loud and definitely caused a few heads to turn, including mine- against my will. I knew it belonged to Zayn, even if it was angry and frustrated. I've heard all kinds of his different voices as crazy as it sounds. And I've only known him for about a week now.

The girl who was crying from outside was stalking him as Zayn's face was now full on tense. He marched away from her as quickly as he could, putting as much distance between the two. She followed after hopelessly, the tears streaming quicker now.

"Zayn you have to at least listen!"

"I have, Delia! Now go home!" He snapped, still walking away. I paused. I couldn't help myself to stand and watch him. His head was down, watching his feet push him forward. He was only a couple feet in front of me and slowly the girl- Delia- stopped her pursuing, sobbing slightly.

I watched him with wide eyes come closer and closer until we nearly collided into each other. My hands dashed up, feet shuffling to keep me from falling. He looked up, his hands flying out to grab my waist, pulling me back to him. I stared at his eyes- the only pathway to finding out how he truly felt.

Hopeless. Lost. Pain. Desire. Emotional.

He looked like he could break at any moment.

My hands were wrapped in his shirt, clenching tightly as he moved his thumb slowly over my hipbone. I sighed, looking behind him to Delia who was watching us curiously.

"Who's-"

Zayn's face fell in the crook of my neck, his hands copying my movements and burying themselves in the hem of my shirt, holding tightly like if he slipped his life depended on it. The action caught me off guard and I teetered before regaining my balance.

Even in this moment I felt something for him. The clenching of my heart, the rapid blinking, warm feeling in my stomach. It was that undeniable feeling of wanting to comfort him- the same I had the first night we had sex.

"Zayn." I warned slightly, feeling everybody's eyes on us, even Delia's. She seemed to have ceased crying, more focused on how we moved together. Her head was slightly tilted to the side and her lips were parted.

"I really don't care right now Grace. Can we go somewhere together? I need to talk to you." He mumbled, face still buried in my shoulder. I nodded awkwardly and he pulled away, keeping his eyes low. At lightning speed he had his hand in mine and was pulling me away to his car.

Outside it was warm, a difference from the upcoming fall weather. The comfort of the warmth was soon gone and replaced with my- his- Porsche. The leather soothed my skin, my fingertips brushing over the soft grey.

He bounced into his seat, sitting there for a minute. I waited for him to explain.

Okay, so he was the one who was smoking. That's fucking new.

A crying girl was following him and previously arguing with him.

And he had just pulled me away into his car and I was now breaking my promise to Louis that I'd stay away from him. This is just fucking great. Louis was probably going to kick my ass now.

"I- I have a kid." He choked out, staring out the front window and not meeting my eyes. I didn't know whether to snort or feel bad or what because I'm sure it was bound to happen eventually with him. I mean...he had sex...a lot. And the topic of protection never came up between us. Like what if I wasn't on the fucking pill?

"What?" I decided to go with the slightly shocked slightly worried. Obviously the news was giving him a hard time. He needed someone to talk to and I got the feeling this isn't news Louis- his almighty manager that ruled his life- would particularly like.

Slowly his head turned to me, the desolation prevalent in the dark eyes of his.

"I have a four year old son named Sam and his birthday is next week." He repeated, keeping his voice steady and low. I bit my lip. He didn't know about this before? It's been four fucking years!

"Who's the mom?" I questioned quietly and he shook his head, turning back to face outside. I frowned and the cold numb nature of his. Where's the friendly, I'll-shoot-you-with-a-paintball-gun Zayn?

"Delia Memphis. The girl who was following me earlier." I nodded. Makes sense.

"So?"

He stared off into space.

"I was visiting family and friends about four or five years ago," He started and I tried not to move. If he was going to say something about his life before school, I was willing to hear it. Maybe I'd be satisfied with him and focus more on Calum and I.

Fuck that shit. Zayn was important too.

"Delia was there, charming as always but a real bitch too. She was my first in everything- first kiss, first fuck, first girlfriend. Anyways she persuaded me to come alone to her house. Things got," He hesitated, glancing over at me with a grim expression. "Heated." I snorted and was happy to see a glimmer of a half-smile creep on his face. Only a nanosecond though.

"We had sex and two days later I left for school. Met Louis and all the stuff. Never went back. Nobody invited me again, I guess or I never made the effort. Then she fucking comes back four years later to tell me I have a kid."

"Are you sure its yours?"

He shrugged and bit his lip.

"That's what I thought at first. But she said she hadn't slept with anybody after that, up until the pregnancy test... She even showed me a picture of it-"

"His name is Sam." I corrected for him, face hardening. What kind of sick fucked up person would call their own son an 'it'. It is a human fucking being and its yours. Get over your fucking self.

Zayn sighed, running a hand through his hair, nodding once. "Sam. She showed me a picture of Sam." He moved a bit, sticking his hand in his pocket and tugging out a small square photo, handing it to me gently, making sure our fingers didn't touch.

I flipped it over from the creamy side, seeing a smiling chestnut colored eyes boys. His hair was the same color as Zayn's, perhaps a tad lighter and poking up in various places. It looked like him, despite the obvious age difference.

"You're thinking what I'm thinking, right? A mini me." He said, taking back the photo with too much force. I frowned slightly at him.

"You're not blaming it all on her, are you?"

"She told me she was on the pill!"

"None of you care about protection or anything! I could be pregnant for all you know!" I argued back, voice a tad softer than his. His eyes flashed to mine worried. I only shook my head and dropped my gaze.

I was starting to feel bad for Delia. I didn't know who Zayn used to be but he was different now. Maybe back then he would've helped her out, maybe even became a familiar face for Sam, but now- now he didn't give a shit.

"Zayn, some of this is your fault."

"I realize that. I just don't know what to do. She's asking for a small portion of my pay check. I don't have a job yet." He said, sighing heavily and leaning his head back on the headrest.

I watched him. It was almost painful- his aggravation and devastation was thick in the air. I could practically breathe in how he was feeling.

"Just give her enough money to support her." I tried, reaching out slightly to rub his shoulder gently. His eyes opened and found mine before trailing down to our contact.

I blushed and pulled away. I had a boyfriend now. I can't do this.

A warm hand grabbed my wrist, fire emanating from the touch. He pulled my hand back to him, keeping me there with wondering eyes.

"I'll help her. He's my son. I just don't think I'm the best role model for him." He whispered, finally letting my hand drop back to my side. My left hand skimmed my heated wrist lightly. Zayn had actually reached out to me, not the other way around. It felt different. It felt good.

"You probably aren't." I said back, just as quiet. He bit his lip.

I went back to that day in Starbucks when our eyes met- just blankly staring at each other, with so much emotion holding us there. He snapped out of the trance we were in, pulling the door open.

"Good speech this morning." He called, clambering out of the space.

I huffed, getting out as well. See how quickly he changes emotions? What's going through his mind?

Notes