Zayn's POV
The next morning, I sifted through my drawers, looking for something to wear that might please Nicole. The only thing I could find were polos and blazers and long khaki pants.
"Uh, mum, where are my clothes?" I asked. She looked a bit confused.
"You know, like the clothes I used to wear?"
My mum seemed hurt and she just shrugged. I knew she was lying but I didn't want to press her any further. This wasn't easy for her either.
Luckily I found one black Strokes shirt at the bottom of my drawer, under all my prep clothes. It looked cool enough and I recognized the name of the band so I decided it was as close as I was going to get until I found my real wardrobe .
I must've done something right because when I got to school and stood beside Nicole in the hall, she at least looked at me. When she saw what I was wearing, she gave a slight nod of approval that meant more to me than she knew. It made me wonder if she really had at one point loved me. And if she did love me, then why was she so mean to me now. Surely she hadn't been like this before. Based on her description of me the other day, I had been quite the ass.
"Nicole, is this okay? Is this what Zayn would wear?" It felt strange talking about myself in the third person. She nodded again but looked annoyed.
"I don't want to tell you what 'Zayn' would do every time you have a decision to make. You just do what you want. I'll be fine."
For a moment I wondered if she had accepted the fact that I was a completely different person and she would learn to live with it. Sadly, my theory was proved wrong since after she said it, she left and didn't speak to me for the rest of the day.
Later on, I noticed something black on the underside of my wrist. How had I not noticed this before? I picked at it, thinking it was a scab but I wasn't even close.
"Oh my God! What is this?" I yelled in the middle of math. I twisted my arm so I could get a good look at it. It was a tattoo of a yin yang sign.
"I have a tattoo?" I screamed in shock. Harry-the boy who had caused this whole mess- sighed behind me.
"You have plenty of tattoos Zayn."
Suddenly, tattoos began erupting everywhere. On the top of my arm and on the other wrist it appeared I was in the process of getting a sleeve.
"How did I get all of these?" It wasn't even legal for me to have these. The worst part was that most of them were completely random and if they did mean anything to me, I couldn't remember.
"I understand you have a uh condition but if you are going to do this, please leave the class," Mr. Collins told me.
My fit was out of place and everyone was staring at me as I exited the class.
I knew I had to find Nicole and force her to tell me what all of these meant. I couldn't live my life thinking I had ruined my skin with pointless objects, that were painfully permanent.
"Nicole! Wait aren't you supposed to be in class," I asked when I found her sitting on the floor in an empty hallway. She had a plastic bag and a pack of cigarettes in her hand.
"Zayn and I never went to class," she said. She looked at me like she didn't know me which was understandable. I didn't even know me.
"Can you help me?"
"Quit being so loud."
"Can you help me?"
Nicole relaxed her shoulders and sighed reluctantly.
"What do you need?"
"Can you tell me what all of these are?" I said, showing her all of my tattoos. She gulped uncomfortably and looked like she was about to cry.
"What's wrong?"
"Zayn never told me what those were. He never told me anything actually. He was so reclusive, but so.." she forced a smile, obviously reminiscing.
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing? Stop apologizing."
"Okay, I'm so- I mean." I struggled to find the right words. I used all of my strength to channel whatever memories I had of the most recent Zayn. "Don't tell me what to do."
I bit my lip. The words sounded horrible coming out of my mouth, but the way they flowed out so easily told me it was right.
"That's better," Nicole said, not looking mad in the least.
I thought it was best to leave her alone so I started to walk away.
"Oh wait, Zayn these are yours," she said, running to catch up to me. Nicole handed me the bag and the cigarettes. I peeked into the bag and realized it was weed.
"These a-are m-mine?"
"Yes." She grinned, pleased with my reaction. If it was one thing she appreciated, it was the fact that I had no recollection to ever wanting to do drugs or smoke. "I was trying to get you to stop. But I'm guessing you won't be using them anytime soon."
I couldn't stop staring at them, disgusted at my past self.
How did I end up like this?
"Okay, now what would Zayn do?" She had told me not to ask, but I had to. I wanted to know more about myself.
"Hug me tightly," she ordered. I wrapped my arms awkwardly around Nicole's tiny waist.
"Now whisper something nice or mean, depending on what kind of day you've been having."
I couldn't think of anything mean to say to her so I said, "You smell good."
She backed off a little bit.. "Creepy, but Zayn-like, I suppose."
"Anything else?"
"Well, usually we'd just walk over to my house or your house, but I'm guessing you don't want to do that."
"Yeah how about no."
"Uhm, well if we didn't do that, uh. Walk down halfway down the hall, leaving me behind."
Nicole confused me. The Zayn she knew confused me.
"Now he, uh, you would rush back and kiss me roughly," she muttered softly. "But you should just go to class."
I looked at her awkwardly, not sure if I was supposed to kiss her. I realized she was already headed off in the other direction.
She was magnificent.
But the more I thought about it, the more clear it became that whatever relationship Nicole and I had been in was an unhealthy one.
She didn't deserve the old Zayn.
That's when I promised myself that I would be the best Zayn she ever had.
