Chapter Twenty Four

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Zayn Malik stood outside of the English room, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. His black, clear glasses were resting on his nose, his black hair gelled up into its trademark spike, which made anyone fall at his feet. There was a cigarette perched on top of his ear, and he bit his lip as he watched the lower years all rush in and out of classrooms, eager to get to their next lessons. The bell had just rung, and Zayn had watched as his English class had walked into the room, Mr Styles was already in there, ready to teach the lesson. Mr Styles, Zayn scoffed to himself, before repositioning himself against the wall, his huge trainers almost tripping over a year ten.

 Zayn was staring at the door intently as the corridor started to quiet down, the other students finally entering their classrooms, with just a few stragglers left. There was a small window in the classroom door, and through it, Zayn could see Harry stood up, leaning across his desk, a wide smile spread across his face. Zayn scoffed again, Harry was obviously perfectly fine. He would be, because he didn’t give a shit about Zayn, or his feelings. Harry laughed slightly, and even though the door was closed, Zayn could still hear his laugh in his mind. Perfect, curly headed fucker, Zayn thought to himself with a scowl.

After the confrontation in the nurse’s office yesterday, Zayn had never felt lower. And he had to hide that from his sisters, even though Waliyha was getting to an age where she was starting to see through Zayn’s forced smile. He couldn’t let that happen, and Zayn wouldn’t be happy until he’d taught Harry a lesson. He knew that he couldn’t go in their and punch Harry’s lights out, that would be too much trouble, even though Zayn was really tempted for that option. No, he had to piss Harry off in lessons. Harry had admitted himself yesterday that he hated it when Zayn made him out to look like a prick, and Zayn loved winding Harry up.

“Oh God, Zayn, what are you planning?” He heard his best friend sigh, as he saw Liam walk towards him. Liam was looking at him tiredly, and Zayn couldn’t help but smirk.

“He pissed me off, so I’m going to piss him off. Simple.” Zayn replied, sliding his hands into the pockets of his school trousers. Liam looked at him with a confused frown.

“How did he piss you off yesterday? I’d never seen a teacher care so much about you, like he did.” Liam admitted, looking towards the door of the English room. Zayn looked at Liam sharply for a moment, before he let out a loud chuckle.

“Oh God, Liam, he’s got you too.” Zayn snickered, fixing his hair. Liam looked at him, confusion still prominent in his brown eyes.

“He’s…got me?” Liam asked, as if he couldn’t understand what language Zayn was speaking. Zayn looked at him with a ‘matter-of-factly’ look.

“He fakes this shit, he doesn’t care about anyone, he does it so he can get what he wants.” Zayn replied, before looking up at Liam, “I can’t believe you fell for that.” Liam looked at him like he was stupid. His face scrunched up, and he was about to speak before he sighed and shook his head.

“Forget it, forget it. Do what you have to do, I just think that you should bear in mind that you didn’t see the desperate look of pain and heartbreak in his eyes when you almost stopped breathing yesterday, like I did.” Liam sighed, before patting his best friend on the arm and walking into the classroom, apologising for being late. Zayn watched Liam walk off, before his gaze dropped to his feet. For a moment, he imagined what Harry’s emerald eyes would look like, if they were full of pain like Liam had said, but as his mind rolled back to the confrontation that they had had yesterday, and Zayn snapped out of it. He pushed himself off from the wall and walked casually into the classroom, ready to cause absolute hell.

The English room’s door swung open, and Zayn watched as Harry looked up at him as if he wasn’t surprised. Zayn sent him a sarcastic smile, before he saw a look of guilt flash in Harry’s eyes.

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