Harry had stopped talking to me, ever since the popular group adopted him. He stopped complimenting me on my indie band shirts and stopped trying to keep me company in the hallway. But whenever he looked at me, he made me feel safe and I would remember the day he punched that Niall kid.
Now Zayn, he was the coolest person I had ever met. Everyday after school, he would walk me to my house and sometimes we would just skip school to hang out. I never thought I would be 'one of those kids' but I was becoming one. And it made me happy. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere, Zayn made me feel like I belonged.
I was staring up at his chiseled face, his jaw line tense as he smoked a cigarette and hummed an Arctic Monkeys song.
"You want one?" he asked offering me a smoke.
"No, it's okay," I answered. He asked me if I wanted on every time, but I refused to.
My parents would kill me if I did. It's not like I had been listening to my parents recently anyways. Hanging out with Zayn so much was making me rebellious. I didn't care much about anything. Except smoking. I promised myself I would never smoke.
Zayn let me clutch his arm and he smiled down at me.
"You're so pretty," he said, kissing my forehead. I wished he would ask me on a date, but I didn't want to push my luck. "Do have a couple bucks?"
"Yeah," I said, not really thinking, handing him a five dollar bill.
"Thanks I need it for more of these," he said, waving an empty pack of cigarettes in the air and then tossing it on the ground.
I wanted to pick it up and throw it in the bin but Zayn was walking too fast and had no intention on waiting. With a little bit of bravery, I held onto his hand, half expecting him to pull away. But he didn't and I felt a wave of relief flow over me.
"So today I was in math and you wouldn't believe what happened," I began to say.
"Do I want to hear this?" he asked.
"Yes of course!" I insisted, continuing on with my story about how the teacher slipped and fell and then got so angry and embarrassed that he punched his fist straight through the computer screen. I was laughing too hard to notice that Zayn had stopped listening and had put his headphones in.
"Zayn, you're beautiful," I whispered, knowing that he couldn't hear me. I was about to lean against him as we neared my house but he let go of my hand.
"Bye Nicole," he said, dropping me off at the corner. Usually he walked me all the way to my doorstep but maybe he had some thing to do. I doubted it but I didn't mind.
He carried on the opposite direction, hands shoved into the pockets of his tight skinny jeans, and disappearing around the bend. I heard him say hello to someone and I heard laughter. Female laughter.
I wasn't sure why I got so possessive in that moment, we weren't dating, but I couldn't help but get extremely jealous.
Harry's POV:
The bus was passing Nicole's street and I saw the entire sad scene play out. Nicole's pretty face was shining as she told a story, looking up affectionately at Zayn. Not once did he glance at her, not once did he saw anything. She was holding his hand tightly in her own and even though he didn't let go, Zayn was looking around for an escape. He saw what he was looking for, two girls walking behind him, in low cut shirts and the shortest skirts I had ever seen. They wiggled their fingers at him flirtatiously and he grinned. He immediately said a quick goodbye to Nicole and sped off to his female followers, hugging one of them and proceeding to shower her exposed chest with kisses. But Nicole couldn't see them. She was standing in front of her door, beaming at the thought of Zayn. She was loving him blind and I wished I could tell her the truth. But she was seemed so happy with him. I couldn't bear to see her if she looked lonely again and if she was happy, that was enough for me,
for now.
Nicole's POV:
"Who's that boy you've been hanging around lately?" my sister asked. Tess never asked me about my life so I took this chance to tell her everything.
"His names Zayn. Zayn Malik. Isn't he perfect?" I said dreamily, my heart fluttering at the thought of him.
"He's trouble you know," she warned. "You shouldn't get involved with him."
Something inside me snapped. Tess always thought she could be the boss of me. Whenever she spoke to me, she was always telling me how to do stuff, how to live my life.
"You don't even know him," I said flatly.
"Whatever," Tess sighed as she left my room.
I laid back on my bed and started thinking about what I should wear the next day.
What does Zayn like? I thought.
---
"You're not going to school like that young lady," my mom said, pointing at my mini skirt and skin tight tank top. She forced me to put something else on so I just put sweatpants and a sweatshirt over it and left the house as fast as I could. I knew Zayn would be waiting for me on the corner so I after I was out of my mothers sight, I took off the bulky outer clothes and stuffed them into my backpack.
"Well," Zayn said, smiling at my choice of clothes, "You look.."
"I know." I grinned at him and this time he was the one to take my hand in his.
