Reckless Games || Ziam Mayne

CHAPTER ONE

Louis chuckled sarcastically „I guess you won the bet, again." I looked him in the eyes and said – I think way too narcissistically „Like I ever lose, Tommo?" Tommo was a nickname for my best mate, my lowkey partner in crime, and when I say in crime, I truly mean a crime. He was also more like a brother to me, we never had that weird brother-to-brother bond or however you call that shit but he was still a brother to me, if that somehow makes sense because that whole sentence was bloody ridiculous, I must admit.

It was more like that when he was in some deep shit, I never turned my back at him and neither did he.

I trusted him even with my phone – which is a real different way of trust. I have everything on my phone, truly everything. From nudes of that weird nerdy guy from my Chemistry class to an answers for the upcoming exams – which reminds me that I should probably look into that a little, it would be embarrassing if I would have answers to all the questions but still failed.

Wouldn't be the first time, though.

„Egoistic, aren't we?" Louis smirked with his messy hair falling into his face – I'm guessing that he woke up like five minutes before he left off to school to meet me at our "secret" spot.

I wanted to respond with some sarcastic comment but when the words were about to leave my mouth, the bell rang. Meaning it's my first class of the day and it's – English. Don't get me wrong, I love the subject, I love learning about the history of English literature. It always was quite an interesting topic to me since I was little.

I remember my mum reading me poems from some magnificent poets of every century. My favourite period of time for poems was 20th century. All the pieces that were coming out in that time felt so real, so personal. I would have read any poem from that period and would felt like I fell in love with a soldier that was fighting for the sake of his land during World War First. That's how I felt when I was reading poems, that's the thing that I'm the most proud of myself – understanding what the author meant to say and what they felt.

A little too detailed explanatory why I love English classes so much, well past tense. Why I loved English classes so much. It all changed when we got for our senior year a new teacher – Mr. Felch.

He wasn't a bad teacher or anything. I just couldn't get comfortable with the fact that he was American, and I'm not even sorry for that judgement. I just don't get why can't we get a normal teacher for a literal English class. And don't let me start with that American slang. Also whenever Louis is talking, Mr. Felch asks him about three time to repeats himself because he doesn't understand his Doncaster accent – I must admit his accent is really strong but if the teacher himself was from UK then it wouldn't be that hard for him.

While I was sat in English class, playing with my pencil, I wondered what is Louis probably doing right now. Most likely failing his Biology exam due to that "distracting" curly headed boy that is sitting right in front of him. He keeps denying it but I am so sure that he developed a crush on him. Which is cute, I guess? I mean I don't really care, I just like to tease him about it.

Oh, yeah, I probably forgot to mention that Louis is in fact gay. You wouldn't guess it at first but as soon as you create a normal conversation with him, it's more obvious than my hangover at Monday's morning.

"What is your opinion on this subject, Zayn?" I heard a familiar voice from behind my back. When I looked up I felt Mr. Felch's eyes staring onto my head, my eyes met his and I had no idea what am I supposed to say, I just wasn't paying attention to the debate that was happening around me between my classmates and the English teacher.

I swallowed, feeling that uncomfortable feeling in pit of my stomach – my anxiety was rising up.

Before I could even open my mouth, Mr. Felch was shaking his head and walking to the front, opening his notebook. In fact I knew what he was writing in that notebook with black desks. I sighed and mumbled "I for sure got bad mark now." "Yes, you did, Zayn," how the fuck did he hear that "I do not tolerate this kind of behaviour, you're disrespecting me this whole week, since I kindly accepted this job. I already talked with the principal, I hoped that she would explain it to you well, judging by what you're doing now, I guess not!" He raised his voice at the end of his long monologue.

I wasn't listening again after he mentioned that Ms. Montgomery was supposed to talk to me – because I for sure remember not having a conversation with her about him.

"Maybe I should repeat it then-" I suggested. "You want to go and have a talk with principal Montgomery?" He repeated slowly, not believing that I actually said that, "Yes, Mr. Felch," I looked away and smirked, couldn't hold my smile anymore "if it's okay with me leaving the class earlier, of course." I was facing him away, trying the best not to start smiling or smirking right to his face, that would blown off my cover and ruined my plan, for sure. He was just staring at me in disbelief and simply pointed at the wooden door that had a little glass window on them.

Walking down the hall I was looking at the painting that other students did ages ago. It's weird how this school loves to brag about everything. Whenever we won something it was on that one pinboard – even if it was a stupid diploma for fourth place in a women football. I understood the trophies, I would probably be proud if I would have something like that too but the diplomas just seem desperate. Continuing walking through the blue pained hall I saw every project the Art club has done with Mrs. Williams. She was crazy, but creative, but so crazy.

While having my backpack over on of my shoulders I looked down, another project from Mrs. Williams? No actually, it was from Mr. Wellsburg, he was our Nature teacher, when I was looking on the ground I saw the project he did with us when we were First-Year's, they were a lion footsteps painted on the floor that could lead us right to the Football pitch.

A few steps through the secretary and now I was finally facing the principal's door, when I knocked, I got a soft "Come in!" That welcomed me in.

Stepping in, I could see a huge dark wooden desk that was in middle of the room, on the walls were principal's diplomas from university and some awards that school won like, for example; Highschool with the lowest average, Highschool with the most cleaned restrooms – I disagree with that, by the way – and also Highschool with the best football team in London.

I don't think our team is the best anymore, it really sucks.

I threw my backpack into the corner and basically fell into the chair that was facing the huge table. Ms. Montgomery was back to me, facing the window. "Well, hello to you too, Zayn." She chuckled at her own joke, "Sorry – hey aunt." Yeah, there I said it, she indeed was my aunt from my mother's side – meaning she was my mother's sister. 

She turned around and sat down on the huge chair that made her look so small. My aunt was in her middle 30's, she hates to be reminded of that though. For the past ten years we are celebrating her 25th birthday.

I'm not complaining though, the younger, the funnier.