EMMA’S POV

I get away with staying at Zayn’s Wednesday night as planned, and Dad texts me on Thursday morning to ask if I can stay with my “friend” again.

We talked a lot yesterday. After we napped, we sat opposite each other and had a few cups of tea. It wasn’t entirely pretty the whole time, but we figured some things out, and made some important decisions.

First of all, we agreed that we shouldn’t label ourselves just yet. We shouldn’t be in a relationship, and calling it that only makes it more incriminating.

Secondly, we decided that we needed to get to know each other better on a more personal level. Zayn being my dad’s best mate has its pros and its cons. On one hand, I’m comfortable around him, and he’s someone I can trust. On the other hand, we don’t know anything about one another that my dad doesn’t know too.

And lastly, we agreed that we needed to set boundaries.

Boundaries are hard when you sleep in the same bed as a God who walks among humans.

On our way to school on Thursday morning, Zayn holds my hand over the center console. It’s as if talking about things made him a little less concerned with us. He’s not as uptight and fidgety.

“So, Dad texted me,” I tell Zayn when we’re a couple minutes away from school. “He wants to know if I can stay over again.”

Zayn chuckles, “Oh, yeah? I’m going to guess he said, ‘Please ask Zayn if you can sleep with him again tonight; I’m not going to be home, and he’s so kind to have you.’”

I giggle and squeeze his hand, “Yep, just like that.”

“Right,” Zayn scoffs, his scowl of a stare returning to the road. “You can stay, though. That’s fine.”

“He must really like this girl,” I roll my eyes. “He’s hardly been home the past couple weeks.”

“Yeah,” Zayn nods slowly. “He must like whoever she is.”

I bob my head to the music as a song I’m familiar with finally comes on. Zayn listens to some really obscure music.

When we pull up to school, he takes his hand away from mine instinctively. I hate the secrecy, but at the same time, it’s a bit thrilling.

“So, just meet me in my classroom after the bell rings, yeah?” Zayn suggests and I nod. “I’ve got some grading to do, so we’ll just leave when I’m done, if that’s alright with you.”

I nod again as he parks, and gather my things. We turn to each other just before getting out of the car. It’s quiet except for the muffled sounds of kids walking in the courtyard.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers. “I wish I could.”

I smirk and wiggle my eyebrows, “You can kiss me all night, if you’d like.”

“I’d very much like,” he smiles, reaching over to briefly squeeze my knee.

I get out of the car first, and walk toward school while he puts on his jacket and gathers his briefcase. It’s less conspicuous that way.

When I reach the courtyard, Abrielle and Harry are walking toward me together, engaged in conversation and seemingly clueless of my presence.

“Hey,” Abby looks up suddenly, “Emma, how are you?”

I smile politely and nod to Harry as well, “I’m alright, and you guys?”

Harry looks down at his feet and blushes. If I didn’t know any better, I would assume that he’s being bashfully flirtatious.

“I’m well,” he mutters. “I’ve had a pretty stellar week.”

“Yeah,” Abby elbows him playfully, “It’s been a good week. So, are you carpooling with Mr. Malik a lot now?”

I bite my bottom lip, attempting a casual expression while my stomach does flips, “Uh, sometimes. He’s just been picking me up on days my dad goes to work early.”

“Hmm,” Abby nods as Harry’s eyes widen a bit. He probably thinks I don’t notice, but I definitely do. “That’s convenient, then.”

I nod again, and notice some of my old friends gathered in the courtyard, finding them to be the perfect escape from my own awkwardness, “Um, it is. I’ve- uh, got to go, but we should hang out soon, yeah?”

I walk away before they actually respond, and hurry to the group of girls I’ve practically been avoiding all month. I’m sure they hate me.

____________

HARRY’S POV

“Alright,” I sigh as Emma walks away, “I’m convinced. She’s hiding something. Something big. Especially since I know for a fact she wasn’t with her dad last night. I was.”

Abrielle nods, “I’m telling you. She’s shagging our music teacher, who is also your boyfriend’s best mate.”

I blush and smile at the ground, “I really like calling him that.”

Abby giggles and wraps her arm around my waist, “I do, too. Now back to the big picture here. Are you going to tell Louis?”

I shake my head firmly, “Absolutely not.”

“How come? I think he deserves to know,” Abby shrugs as we walk to class together.

I shake my head again, “It will only make Louis angry at me. He’ll resent me for being the bearer of bad news, and it’s not like we have much room to talk. It’ll ruin everything.”

“That isn’t true,” Abby retorts, her voice a bit whiny. “You and Louis’ relationship is legal. You’re going to be graduating this year, and you’re free to quite literally do whatever you want. It’s not like that with Emma and Mr. Malik. It’s not even just that... Wouldn’t you like to know if your best mate was betraying you like that. Imagine how you would feel if say, Niall was dating your sister behind your back. Then, multiply that feeling by twenty, because it isn’t Louis’ sister. It’s his fifteen-year old daughter. He’s responsible for her. Wouldn’t it be better if he was aware before something really happens?”

I sigh and my shoulders hang low. I’ve got Mr. Malik first on top of it all. I don’t know what I should do, but things are too perfect with Louis and I for me to bring all of this to his attention now.

“I don’t know, Abs,” I admit. “I know what you’re saying, but I also don’t want him to deal with that. He’ll be so disappointed. He has the best things to say about Zayn. I mean, they’ve been mates since they were just lads. He was there when Emma was born and was like by Louis’ side all these years.”

Abby stops in front of me and rests her hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look in her eyes, “That’s what makes this all the more fucked up.”

I know she’s right, but I don’t want her to be.

_________

ZAYN’S POV

I get to my classroom much earlier than I usually do. Being aware of Emma’s issue with tardiness forces me to arrive early to work. It’s strange, but it also forces me to get more done. This morning alone, I got half of my first period’s tests graded.

It’s not like I’m more tired than usual, either. I think I sleep better when she’s there.

All of this attachment, though, is stressful on my end. I’m not good at being exclusive and reliant. I really need to think things over because I know it’ll break her heart if I fuck up. I’ve broken too many hearts already and I haven’t cared about any of them as much as her. I can’t ruin her.

The room gradually grows noisier as it fills with students. I begin class on time for once as well.

“Alright everyone. Today, we’ll do a reading for the Coldplay song we started last week. Do you all have your sheet music?”

Most of the kids students nod, reaching into their bags without quitting their small talk, and some others stare at me questioningly. I expected as much, though, so I hand out extra copies to those seemingly lost students. As I’m about to speak again, the door swings open, the bright light from the breezeway shining through.

“Ah, Styles,” I scoff when I see Harry waltzing through the door. “Late as usual. Do you at least have your sheet music?”

Harry shrugs and keeps walking, most likely to join his goonish friends in the back of the room, “Probably not. Are we doing something with it?”

“Of course we are,” I say through gritted teeth. “Why else would I hand it out?”

Harry shrugs again, sitting down between Liam and Niall, “I thought you just gave them to us to play at home if we’d like. We’ve never done anything with them before.”

“Don’t smart-mouth me,” I glare, sighing soon afterward. “I’m out of copies, so just look on with one of your friends.”

He nods slowly, obviously taken aback. I don’t know why I snapped at him, but it’s about time I get a little respect from the twat, whether or not he’s turned my best mate gay. On top of that possibility, he did something with Emma, and even if it doesn’t happen again, I’m not keen on it having ever happened in the first place. He just needs to be put in his place.

“Now that the distractions are finished,” I clear my throat, “I’d like for you all to mark the notes properly and prepare to play it. This is one of the songs that we will play at the end-of-semester performance, and I want it to sound perfect.”

Most everyone nods in understanding, so I sit down at my desk. There’s light chatter among the students, but I don’t mind. We have a whole semester to learn this song, and I’d really like some time to myself.

I take my phone out of my pocket and unlock it, holding it in my lap so it isn’t too obvious.


*FROM: Em
I think Harry’s friend is on to us. That Abby girl is always asking me about you.*


My face heats up in a mixture of rage and fear, but I breathe deeply through my nose.

*TO: Em
Don’t worry. There’s nothing they can prove, and I’m sure she’s just being nosey. I’ll see you after the bell*

I stand up, pocketing my phone and restocking some of the classwork I had been grading. I glance around the room, and immediately find myself glaring at Harry. It’s hard not to, and even though I promised Emma I wouldn’t say anything to him, I can’t help myself from gaining some control.

“Styles,” I raise my voice just enough to sound authoritative. “Step outside with me for a moment, please.”

Harry’s head shoots up from fiddling with his thumbs; he looks exhausted.

He doesn’t say anything, just shrugs and stands up to follow me out of the room. I hear whispers and playful “ooo’s” as the door shuts.

I cross my arms in the breezeway, leaning my side against the door, “So, is there a reason you aren’t marking the notes?”

Harry rolls his eyes and mimics my stance, standing up straight instead of leaning casually, “I don’t have my own sheet, first of all. Secondly, I can read music without marking ahead of time. Plus, I already know this song.”

I scoff, finding that all quite unbelievable, “I’ll have you prove that, then. In front of the class. I assume that wouldn’t be a problem.”

Harry doesn’t bat an eyelash, “Sure.”

He starts to move toward the door, but I don’t stop leaning on it, “I’m not done. I want to talk to you about something else.”

“Okay,” his breathing quickens, and I grin to myself.

“Emma told me what you did,” I flatly say, raising my brows expectantly.

He doesn’t continue to grow anxious, though. He lets out a long sigh and looks more confused than anything.

“What are you talking about?” He asks. I would put this up to his being allusive, but I don’t think he’s that good of a liar.

“She told me about you... Forcing yourself on her,” I respond slowly, watching his expression closely for any falter.

“What?” He exclaims, looking outright enraged. “I would never... She said that?”

We’re both astounded now, and I feel less casual, so I stand at full height, a bit pissed that he’s taller than me.

“I- uh, so nothing happened?” I question him, sure to remain stern.

“No!” He nearly cries in anger, “I’m not- I’m gay! Not like... partially gay, I’m gay. I’m in a relationship.”

I swallow thickly and watch his unwavering eyes, searching for answers that I know are in there. Answers I can’t possibly read.

“Fine,” I huff. “I believe you about this, but I’m on to you, Styles. Just watch yourself, mate.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles slyly, “I’m onto you too, mate.”

I roll my eyes, attempting to look unfazed, “Whatever, get inside and play ‘The Scientist’, yeah?”

He shrugs as I hold the door open, following him in.

I think I just made this all worse. A lot worse.

...

By the time classes are done, I’m exhausted. More mentally than physically. I start to grade assignments, but my mind is clouded, a storm of trouble weighing down on me.

“Knock knock,” Emma says as she opens the door without actually knocking.

I chuckle and turn to her, rolling my chair away from my desk as she locks the door, “You know your dad does that same thing.”

She rolls her eyes and drops her bag by the door, “Can we not make comparisons of me and my dad?”

I laugh and pat my thighs gently and tease, “I guess so, but maybe I only like you because you’re like him.”

“That’s pretty gay, Zayn,” she giggles straddling my lap and shrugging off her sweater. “Are you gay for my dad?”

“‘Course not,” I grin, wrapping my arms around her waist so I can urge her closer for a brief kiss.

The brief kiss turns into a heated kiss quickly, and she’s rolling her hips cautiously against mine. I trail my hands up along her spine and tangle my fingers in her long hair. She balances up on her knees and reaches down to unbutton my slacks, relying on my grasp to hold her up. She kisses along my jaw as she works at the zipper slowly, the metal grazing my stiffening cock.

“So hot,” she breathes out a whisper. “Never thought this would happen in your classroom.”

I chuckle and grip her waist, watching her face when she sits up. She watches her hands intently, her mouth dropped in a blissed haze. She looks so innocent, even though I know better.

“Never thought what would happen?” I question mischievously.

She hesitates, her eyes meeting mine in a searching stare, “Never thought I’d get you off here. Make you come all over yourself.”

“Fuck,” I gasp as she reaches into my pants and grasps my dick softly. It’s almost like a tickling sensation, the way her fingers graze over my girth tentatively. “We shouldn’t-“

I don’t finish that sentence, because I know that neither of us care about what we shouldn’t do. But this is definitely something we shouldn’t be doing. I know she knows that.

She leans down to kiss me and her lips are quivering. She’s nervous, and I can’t say that I’m not too.

“You don’t have to,” I whisper, breathing softly against her lips. “Don’t feel like you have to.”

I moan into her mouth as she grips harder, still being so extremely gentle.

“Want to,” she breathes shakily. “Want to make you feel good.”

I nod quickly, without considering anything involving logic. She tugs her fist over my length in slow pumps, the sensation so light and powerful at the same time. THere’s no way in hell I’m going to last long. I’ve been in such a rut lately, and wanking hasn’t been cutting it for a while now.

Her touch is what I’ve been missing, whether I’m okay with admitting that or not.

“Christ,” I hiss, bucking my hips up against her. She shifts her eyes between mine and her hand, biting her lip in the process as I warn her, “I’m gonna come.”

She pauses her hand for a moment and then nods, “Go ahead.”

I grit my teeth and don’t dare to close my eyes. We hold each other’s gaze for a few more pumps before I’m groaning and coming all over myself and her hand in long, slow spurts.

She kisses me then, keeping her hand on me, unmoving.

“Should I-“ She begins and pulls away to look down at the mess.

“It’s okay, love,” I grin in an orgasmic haze. “I’ve got it.”

I lean over to reach under my desk, retrieving a roll of paper towels. I take her hand away and wipe the sticky come off of it, followed by my happy trail.

“You can go wash up in the bathroom, and then I’ll take you home,” I mumble as she stands up. I don’t dare wiping my cock with the paper towel, opting for a damp rag when I get back to my flat.

Her face falls, though, and I know immediately that I’ve done something wrong, “Em, what is it? Did you want me to like- return the favor?”

She chuckles dryly and shrugs, “I mean- not now, but- I don’t want to go home.”

“Oh,” I stand up as well, buttoning my slacks, “No, I meant my place.”

She sighs in relief and walks into my arms, “Thank god. Yeah, let’s go.”

I smile to myself and kiss the top of her head. I decide now that I won’t tell her about Harry.

I won’t ruin this.

Notes

So, this is my lowest rated story, and I know a 9.9 is still good, but I would really love to see it reach 10 stars. If you haven't rated it already, please do. If we get it to 10 stars by Sunday, I'll try to update again next week. xx