During English, Zayn was being his cheeky self and slid his hand up my leg, way too high for my comfort. Afraid of his reaction, I didn’t say anything and just sat there quietly as he played with the rips in my jeans.
Fortunately, I didn’t have anymore classed with him for the rest of the day.
Unfortunately, I had 2 classes with Harry. He came and moved Spencer, a short, chubby kid to sit beside me. The poor kid nearly pissed his pants as Harry stood over his desk. With a flick of his wrist, Harry indicated Spencer to move. The short boy quickly obeyed. The whole exchange ticked me off but I kept my mouth shut. Harry smiled at me (which I didn’t return) but didn’t try to converse with me.
I had a sneaking suspicion that Zayn had told him to keep an eye on me.
As the lunch bell rang, my heart started pounding. I was certain Zayn was going to abduct me again.
I took my time going to my locker.
Breathing a sigh of relief when he wasn’t there, I opened my locker. I decided to go to the library since I didn’t have anyone to sit with. I took out my phone to call Richie, my best friend in New York to get some updates about what was going on back home.
Before I closed my locker, my gaze fell to the floor and I saw black boots peeking out from under the door.
Oh no.
“Busy?” he smirked.
“I-um,” I stuttered. I didn’t want to piss him off again.
“I’m sorry. For this morning, I mean,” he closed my locker and looked into my eyes. I hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten until he spoke again.
“Your eyes are stunning,” he breathed. His hand caressed my left cheek.
Even though he scared the crap out of me, I still couldn’t stay away from him. It was like he’s a magnet and I’m just a metal drawn to him.
The locker bay and hallway was empty. There wasn’t a soul in sight.
I bit my lip, unsure of what to do next. Zayn licked his pink lips and his eyes lowered to mine.
Should I kiss him? Should I wait for him to kiss me?
I don’t have much experience with this kind of stuff. I’ve never had a boyfriend. My first ‘kiss’ happened 3 years ago with this drunk kid, who didn’t tell me his name or I just forgot, behind a dumpster. It was smelly and sloppy.
Yeah, not very romantic.
Zayn’s lips moved across my cheek towards my lips causing butterflies in my stomach.
Oh this is so wrong. This is so very , very not right. My brain wasn’t functioning properly. One part, the sensible part kept telling me to stop this madness and push him away because this is bad. Did the other part care? Nope. So I decided to go with it.
This was absolutely perfect.
Until Sherry’s face popped into my head. I remembered the way she was flirting with Zayn before History. Running her perfectly polished, purple nails up and down his arm. Her pink, glossy Angelina Jolie lips forming a pout at his words.
That kind of completely destroyed the moment.
Zayn must have noticed too because he pulled back just enough to at my face.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked. When I didn’t reply he sighed softly, his hot breath hitting my face.
Jesus, help me.
“Let me rephrase that, who are you thinking about?” I looked up, surprised that he read me so easily.
“I-” I tried to figure out what to say.
“Sherry likes you…” I said, choosing my words carefully. His eyebrow shot up. “And I don’t get why you’re doing this,” I took a step back and made a wild gesture around us. “When you can have her.”
I hung my head. I felt so stupid and ashamed. Like a 2 year old throwing a tantrum.
Zayn burst out laughing. I stared at him- no more like I gawked at him. This was so not the reaction I expected.
“What’s so funny,” I demanded. My voice was shrill and it echoed through the hall.
“You’re the cutest thing ever,” he chuckled and pinched my cheeks, making me blush.
“I don’t like Sherry like that,” I looked away again, embarrassed. “I don’t like her at all. Period.” He put two fingers under my chin and made me look at him.
“To be honest, she’s a slut. She’s slept around so much, she’s like and old, used, dirty toy. Hell, she even slept with Harry and Louis!”
“Zayn!” I scolded. Don’t be rude. She’s a sweetheart.’
“No, Rylee, she’s not,” his eyes got softer. “She could never compare to you. Yeah, I know I just met you but still, I cant you off my mind. Just give me a chance. Let me prove those rumors and stories you heard wrong,” he said. “Just give me one chance.” Now he was pleading.
This guy, the Bradford Bad Boy as he was called, was begging me.
Well, this couldn’t get any weirder.
“Will you?” he smiled a small smile.
Hell yes I would. And that’s what I told him.
Zayn pulled me into a tight embrace which made me laugh. He even lifted me off the ground.
We sat down, leaning against the lockers. He interlaced our hands and I rested my head against his shoulder.
He kept looking at our joined hands and then at me as if I would run away any second.
The last period bell went off. Soon students started piling in. Zayn helped me up.
“See you later?” he kissed my cheek. His lips lingered there for a few minutes. I nodded .
As he was walking away I remembered I needed a ride.
“Zayn! Wait,” I yelled. He turned around. I hurried up to him.
“I, um, need a ride home… and I was wondering, if you aren’t busy with work or friends or if you don’t have plans maybe you could drop me home because my mom has work until five and I don’t have my license or a car yet so I can’t drive myself or if you’re busy, that’s okay I could just take the bus.”
Zayn was wearing an amused expression on his face and I knew I had just babbled some major nonsense.
“Yes, I can give you a ride,” he said. “Since you don’t have your license or car yet,” he added to tease me. I stuck my tongue out at him and he pinched my cheeks. Oh I hated when people did that. I felt like a little kid.
I whacked him hard on his arm, earning a yelp from him and walked away proudly.
Mom would blow the house up when I tell her about this.

Notes

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