~Awh, we had some good times, didn't we?~

AUGUST 3RD

When Zayn opened his eyes, he debated for ten minutes on whether he had simply passed out from exhaustion or went to sleep. Maybe he hadn't slept at all, and that was the scariest question of all. His body needed sleep to deal with the emotional trauma that today would bring.

The laptop was right next to him, practically on top of his stomach as he slept. On the screen was the email that he had gotten about a week ago, and the reason that they were in Boston, Massachusetts. Zayn had been looking through every email that he had ever had, as one does, and came across one that he had had back in his MIT days. A time he had mostly blocked out.

The email wasn't recognizable, but the second that he began to read, he knew who it was. The tone was too familiar, even if his name wasn't until the end. It was Hunter Grant, his first true love.

Hey Zayn,

I just wanted to say that I heard through the grapevine that you got married somewhat recently. I'm really happy for you. You have to know that that's all I ever wanted for you. Zayn, I really hope you found what you were looking for all this time. I'll always love you. Congratulations!

-Grant

It was like hearing an old song and remembering everything. Like a smell from your past, or a photo album. But it was just an email, and there Zayn was, in his sophomore year at MIT, hoping his math professor would notice his thirsting attempts, despite it being against school policy. And then he was falling in love. There was the New York trip, in his head - the beach, his foot, and the ring.

As he read it for the hundreth time, Zayn knew, as he did the first time he read it, that he had to get closure. He had left Grant without so much as a goodbye. Maybe if he had called the right number, it would have been enough to stop him from going to South America. Would he have been happy by now, in that alternate narrative?

For Zayn, it wasn't hard to find the high school that Grant worked at, and to get the schedule for the day. He was planning on going there after the last bell, blending into the crowds without getting a visitor's badge, and finding his old love. Like Chicken Little said, "Modern Mallard says avoiding closure can lead to molting, and I'm already small and on top of that, I don't think I can handle being bald."

Harry hit the screen as he rolled over, and immediately opened his green eyes to frown at the friend he was sharing the bed with. The covers were almost all on him, leaving Zayn with goosebumps all over his exposed skin. "Too early," Harry mumbled. And he was the early riser. Jet lag will do that to you, I guess.

"I'm gonna leave right now," Zayn responded in a whisper.

"Thought you were going at two or whatever," He rubbed his eyes.

"I need some alone time." He had been forced to tell Harry the reason that they were in Boston, and by default, Niall also knew. Harry was probably unaware of how big of a deal this was for Zayn - facing his problems instead of running away. He had run away from the hearing with the academic board, run to South America, and when that was too much, ran to New York. And hadn't he just run away after the failed wedding to Luke? "Six o'clock. At the airport. I'll get a bus."

"Six o'clock. I'll be there."

"Good," Zayn nodded. "I don't want to be in this city for one second longer than I have to be."

---

Zayn ended up at the Subway that him and his best friend Adam Clarke had frequented. The two had lived very different lives during sophomore year, and the sandwich shop was where the two of them had always caught up on everything. Phones on silent, only drama and gossip allowed over meatball subs and Sprite.

He hacked onto the wifi, and sat there with a single cookie. There was no way he could bear to order a sandwich, but he needed a reason for them to not kick him out. The employees looked at him like a customer, not as a human being who was going through quite a lot.

Social media for Adam had all gone dark many years ago, and that was enough to make him shed a single tear. His friend was probably still in South America, either fully integrated into the culture, or a part of the dirt. The last time he had seen him, Zayn was forcing a detox on him. Then Zayn had just left. Left him for dead - his best friend.

Did he have any desire to find him? Where there had once been a need to get back there and find him, Zayn knew that Adam was long gone and untraceable. Even for a hacker like him.

To avoid thinking about him, he opened a Google Doc and began making a list of everything that he wanted to tell Grant. Then he'd just print it out at the library or something. It would be embarrassing, but he didn't want to forget a single thing.

The first thing that he wrote down, after wracking his head and eating half of the raspberry cookie, was "Give the ring back".

---

The hallways had emptied out, and Zayn walked as confidently towards the room as he could. The door was open, which was a relief. He had hoped that Hunter wasn't one of those teachers that left as soon as school was over. Then, the whole plan would've been done for, and Simon would've been pissed if they deviated from the schedule.

It was three thirty. He raised his shaking fist and knocked on the door, without peeking into the room first. "Yeah?" The voice filtered back to him, and shaky little college sophomore Zayn stepped into the room.

Hunter Grant was sitting at his computer, a pair of fashionable and too-large glasses on his face. He looked the same as he always had back then - smoking hot. When he turned towards the door and saw a ghost from his past standing in the doorway, he also stood. "Zaynie." Shock was written all over his face.

"Sorry to show up unannounced," He held his hands behind his back, one of them holding a white piece of paper.

Grant crossed the room towards him and threw his arms around Zayn, as if he was back from the dead. He wouldn't have been surprised to see a tear or two in his eyes when he pulled back, but first he was hugging him back, falling into the familiar smell and feeling of love. "I don't care. I'm so happy to see you. Why....why are you here? It's been so long."

Zayn leaned back, and then took a step back. "I need some closure," His head turned to the side slightly and he stared at the window. His words wobbled in the air uncertainly. "If you have time, I'd love to talk."

"Of course," Grant said, and sat on top of the desk. His face lit up in a smile as he saw the piece of paper. "Did you make a list, you little nerd?"

Zayn's knees pressed together as he sat in a desk near his ex. He managed to laugh. "I did. How, how are you? I want to know." He had to make the conversation flow easier, to put himself at ease.

"I'm doing well. This is a good position. I like it more than the university."

He laid the piece of paper flat on the desk. "Not as many girls flirting with you?"

"Oh my god, so many more. I've learned my lesson, though." Immediately, his face turned bright red. "What we had wasn't a mistake, Zayn. I didn't mean it like that. Let's move on, how are you?"

"My life is crazy," He said honestly. "I'm surrounded by amazing people all of the time, and I'm falling in true love for the first time, I think. And I needed to come here and get some closure before I get into a serious relationship." Grant's eyes showed happiness, and they melted at the pureness of Zayn's words. He really was so much younger, and it showed. Before he could respond, Zayn took something out of his pocket. "I need to give this back."

It was the ring. The diamond ring that Grant had presented to him on the beach in New York. The one he had kept with him through all his travels - Boston, South America, New York, London, Virginia, everywhere. It was always there. "I bought that for you, Zayn."

"And I'm giving it back," His voice held irritation. "Sell it or something."

"You really kept it?" His eyes showed regret. Longing for their past relationship, maybe. He had wanted the two of them to last forever too, hadn't he? "It means something to you."

Zayn bit his lip hard and then replied, "It reminds me of you. I have to give it back,"

"But you still have the laptop I gave you?" He noticed the bag on the floor, and the corner of the computer sticking out of the bag. It was covered in stickers, but he still recognized it.

"This is different." Zayn stood and forced it into Grant's shirt pocket. "This is a representation of what we had, and I'm giving it back to you. We're never getting married."

Grant held it out to him, eyes showing intense focus. "I don't care about that, Zayn! It's yours. Like any physical object that people give each other. I gave this to you because I love you." Zayn discarded the notice that he was using present tense, after all this time. "Keep it, and give it to the person you're in love with."

Surprisingly, he snorted. "Like Liam would ever wear a ring like that. We haven't even gone on a single date. And I love him." The conversation was all centered around Liam after that. The paper list fell to the floor, and he just talked. Grant always listened to him, and always had the best advice. They were still good for each other, in this way. The time that they had shared together was gone, and Grant knew that this was the last time he would see Zayn. So at least he could do this last thing for him. All he ever wanted was for him to be happy, after all.

---

The two of them talked for an hour about serious topics before a more casual conversation started - about their families and friends, and what they had been up to. Usually that would have been more in the beginning, but Zayn was eager to get everything off his chest. And once it was, he felt complete. Like he'd expected to feel.

"So, work is good, yeah?" Zayn questioned. The two were sitting on adjacent desks now, making deep eye contact as they spoke.

Grant stood just then and walked towards the board. "Yes, I like it here. Doing this work. Teaching math as always."

Zayn's eyes flicked down to his watch, checking the time. "Teach me something then. My final math lesson, Professor." Their eyes met as he gestured to the writing still on the board from the last class. The sexual tension had started rising in the last thirty minutes, and showed no sign of stopping.

"Why don't you shut the door then? Don't want this information getting out of this room," Giddily, the younger one skipped to the door and nearly slammed it shut.

"For old time's sake," He said. It was a goodbye, not the promise of starting something new. The past was Grant, and the future was Liam. Forever and always. Couldn't they say goodbye at least? The two of them collided in a kiss. Zayn repeated himself, needing to make sure that he got through to him. "For old time's sake, yeah?"

"For old time's sake." He promised.

Later, they lay tangled on top of the desk. Zayn's neck was shoved to the side in an awkward position, since the computer was the only thing that couldn't be moved off of the tabletop. His face showed peace, but not happiness. Checking his watch again, he sat up slightly. "I have to go," He whispered.

"Please," Grant begged. There was nothing easy about letting Zayn go.

"My flight is soon, and my friends are going to be waiting for me," He thought about Harry and Niall, who were probably already headed to the airport through the rush hour traffic.

He fought slightly to stand up, and began pulling on his clothes. Hair fell in front of his eyes, and Hunter was forced to look away. To protect his eyes from the beauty that he would never see again. Then he began putting on his own pants.

Grant was leaning back against the wall, and Zayn was tying his shoelaces when the first set of bullets came through the window. In a split second, he was back in the crime world. There was no doubt that someone was trying to kill him, and it wasn't going to be the police.

"Under the desk!" Zayn screamed to his ex, desperate to protect him. Luckily he followed orders, and Zayn slammed to his stomach to avoid the windows. Glass covered the floor, and his palms bled. "Are you hurt?"

"No! Zaynie, what's going on?" He didn't look at him with fear, but with concern. For Zayn.

He bit his lip. "This is goodbye, then. They're after me, so if I run, you'll be ok." Thankfully, he was fully clothed. Bullets kept coming in through the window, but it wasn't long before someone would come inside. He crawled towards his bag. The phone was his first grab, and then speed dial did the rest.

"Hey, we're still driving!" Harry's voice rang back to him. Niall was in the backroad, singing Cotton Eyed Joe at the top of his lungs. "Be there in like twenty minutes. We'll make the plane don't worry."

"Harry, Harry, Harry!" Zayn started shutting down. He wasn't one to go into the field and do all of the dangerous stuff. Leave that to the other members of the group. "Someone's trying to kill me and I need you to get to my location now! Drive or I'm going to die."

Something changed in Harry's voice. "Got it. Niall, music off, and pull up Google Maps. Zayn, who is it? Nicholas' team? Did they follow us?"

He exhaled. "Probably. Grant never even sent that email, probably. Front of the school, get here."

"Six minutes!"

The call ended and Zayn put his bag on and ran for the door. His Vans slid on the freshly waxed hallway floor and his shoulder collided with a wall of lockers. Feet to the floor, one foot in front of another. That's all it is. The laptop hit his shoulder with every large gallop he took.

As he turned a corner, forgetting where the front doors were in all of his panic, the outer doors opened to reveal two identical women with machine guns. Zayn screamed at the top of his lungs and ran in the opposite direction, back where he had come from.

This was the first time that Zayn had ever been in this level of danger. Sure, there were tense times, and he was in that car crash that Harry had had last week - he briefly remembered that Harry's arm was still in a cast and would probably affect his driving - but this was real people, shooting at him, wanting him to die.

Zayn nearly skidded past an open classroom before darting inside. A science room. There was no chance he'd survive long enough to need a weapon against guns, so he took the fire extinguisher and used it to break a window. Once he was outside, the main road was in site.

It had probably been three minutes at this point. Three minutes of running, and Harry was nowhere to be found. The gunshots in the distance made him cower in the bushes before taking off down the road. Surely the police would be there soon, and save him. Then he'd spend hours in questioning and they'd miss their flight, but he'd live.

The roar of an engine came from behind him, as well as the screech of the tires on a corner taken too fast. It was Harry, and a smile came to Zayn's face. Then the car was next to him, and the back door was thrown open to reveal his friend with orange-dyed hair. "Get in!" He screamed, reaching for his hand.

Zayn smashed his head into the frame of the car door before Niall pulled him in. Then Harry was doing his thing, driving towards the airport. "What happened?" Niall screamed. "And why aren't you wearing a shirt!"

Blood dripped from his palms and shoulders where he had climbed through the broken window. "We can talk about that later. There were two of them that I saw. Twins. Machine guns. Chasing me! Trying to kill me!"

"Simon. Phone." Harry gritted out. It was hard for him to focus on anything but driving when he was doing it, and they were going to miss their flight unless he broke the speed limit. There was a point in what they said, however. Simon needed to know that the opposition was attacking them with no regard for human life.

Niall found the phone in Zayn's backpack and opened it. Then it was put on speaker phone, and the man answered in a millisecond, as he did whenever someone called. "What happened? I've got police activity at the high school that your ex works at," Simon said immediately.

"Two of them shot at me. I'm fine, but they were trying to kill me Simon! And they set this up! To draw us away from the safety of your house in London, and they're trying to pick us off! So we can't sabotage the wedding," He moaned in pain and let out a string of no-so-elegant curses.

Simon didn't say a word. At that moment, everyone in the car realized that they may not make it out of their last job alive.