Criminal VS. Criminal || мαℓιк

3.The Social Pyramid

3. The Social Pyramid

Maxxon's P.O.V. :

   "Why are you so gorgeous?"

   "I don't know, good genes?"

   "I'm so jealous of you, you know that, right?"

   "Shut up! I'm jealous of you!"

   I winked at my reflection in the mirror, dramatically flipping my hair over my shoulder. People might call this being a conceited jerk. I call it being physically and mentally attracted to yourself. Come on, people. This is second grade.

   "Max, you rides here!" Dad calls. I unlock the bathroom door, sash saying out. I grab my book bag off one of the kitchen chairs, slinging it over one shoulder. I walk into the living room, where my dad reads a newspaper. I stand there for a second before clearing my throat. Dad puts the paper on the coffee table before him, raising his eyebrows. I mirror him.

   "Um, what ride?" I say, my voice filled with attitude. Dad snaps his fingers, getting up off the two seater couch. He walks over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. I follow Dad as he guides me towards the hallway that leads to the front door.

   "I assigned someone to drive you to school, darling. Stone's in town. Not just him, some of his best workers. They've been targeting some of my workers. I honestly don't care for the three they've harassed. I just don't want my own daughter being the next victim," Dad says, opening the front door for me.

   "So, who's driving me?" I ask, standing on the deck. 

   "Zayn."

   The door slams in my face. I take in a breath, forcing myself to stay calm and not break down the door. I turn on the heel of my combat boots, spotting the black car parked on the other side of the street. I walk down the three steps, strutting across the street. 

   Strut. Strut. Strut. I'm a pretty model. Strut. Strut. Strut.

   "Hey, babe. Miss me already?" Zayn winks as I open the passenger seat door. I roll my eyes, slipping into the seat. My bag sits on my feet while I pull my seat belt on. Even if I am a criminal, I stay have safety precautions.

   "In your dreams," I answer, looking straight ahead. Zayn pulls out of the parking space, eyes focused on the road. A smile pulls on Zayn's lips, not a genuine one, but a pervy one. He stops at a stop light. Wait, this isn't the way to school. Hold the hell up, I knew it. This hot criminal is really...

   Taking me to Chuck E. Cheese! 

   Maybe we could be best friends.

   "In my dreams, you're a naughty girl," Zayn flirts back, leaning over the shifter to kiss me. I place my hands on his broad shoulders, pushing him back. He sexily chuckles, his eyes returning to the road. I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. 

   "Never going to happen, Malik," I spit, turning to face the window. A couple minutes later, we arrive at the school parking lot. I unbuckle my seat belt, sliding out of the car immediately. I strut across the parking lot, having my own passage way made. I'm about to reach the doors when, BAM! They stand right there.

   And by they, I mean...

   Maroon 5.

   No, I'm joking. Our school sucks too much to actually get someone that cool here. By they, I meant those slutty people. They've never respected me, so why should I respect them. Well, no. Basically, you respect me and I don't respect you but, you get the point. Like what the actual crabcakes?! I wrote a letter for Santa. It's about them sluts.