Addicted z.m

Chapter 10

"You know," I had said, "this whole starting over thing takes a little effort from both sides."

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion in the midst of chewing a chip. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I get I'm the one who has to do the adapting, but it would be a lot easier if you at least tried to show you want me here."

"What are you talking about?" He sat up straight and I could see the defense in his eyes.

"You keep shutting me out," I stated the obvious. "I know something is up and you refuse to tell me."

"Lord forbid I keep my thoughts to myself," he apologised sarcastically. "Maybe I just don't want to talk about it. I don't have to tell you every detail of my day, Spencer."

"Before, I never had to ask," I argued.

"Hate to break it to you, but this isn't before Spence. Sorry to disappoint."

"You don't have to be a tosser about it," I folded my arms angrily.

"Sorry if I'm not showing as fond of a response to the memories of our year together. I was too busy cowering at every human being that looked my way thinking they were out to kill me. I'm not that kid anymore, and I sure as hell don't want to be."

"I'm not asking you to be," I assured irritably. "But I didn't think it took a gun to your head to make you...you."

I saw the anger flash in his eyes as his eyebrows creased. "What? Am I not me enough for you?"

"No, you're not Zayn," I snapped.

"Then why are you here?! You're obviously miserable!"

"Because you begged me for a chance!" I exclaimed. "You wouldn't leave my dorm until I kissed you! I'm here because you told me you loved me and that you wanted to try! I'm trying for you!"

He rolled his eyes as if this information was irrelevant.

"You know what?" I stood up an pulled on my jacket. "I'll save you the energy you could be using for something much more important. You don't want me, I'm gone."

"I didn't say tha-"

"Goodbye Zayn," I sang as I walked out the door.

I was so angry with him, I felt like Perrie and I were on the same team in philosophy. Though she still wasn't speaking to me, she glanced my way one day and I think she noticed the irritation I felt. She gave me a reluctant glare then turned back to her notes.

Eventually her glare faded until it was almost nonexistent. She even picked up my spiral for me when I dropped it on our way out. She didn't smile, I didn't thank her. We made eye contact and that was exchange enough.

It was two weeks after that fight that I recieved a phone call from an unfamiliar number with a Floridian area code on my way to my dorm.

"Hello?" I answered cautiously.

"Am I speaking to Spencer Horan?" a professional female voice asked.

"Horan-Malone, yes," I corrected. "And who is this?"

"It's Tracy," she answered. "Mr. Malik has requested your presence."

I scoffed. "Not gonna happen. Tell him I don't want anything to do with him."

"No, Spencer, you don't understand," she argued. "He needs you down here, like, yesterday. It's urgent, he says."

"No, I refuse to come," I declared stubbornly.