It’s your first week in a new school, so far you’ve managed to upset the popular kids, not make any new friends, and have struggled in most lessons. You’ve found a quiet place towards the back of the field to hide away at lunchtime. Zayn walks over, sitting down next to you.
Zayn: You won’t’ make new friends out here. You shrug; you know he’s in the year above you as you heard the popular girls talking him about as he walked past before a class. He lights a cigarette, watching your reaction, feeling uncomfortable you look at the ground.
Zayn: You planning on spending every lunch out here?
You: You planning on killing yourself through smoking? He holds up the cigarette and you both watch the paper turn to ash as it burns.
Zayn: Want to make a deal? You shrug again.
Zayn: The girls in your year seem to like me. You roll your eyes even though you know it’s true.
You: I don’t want their friendship I want to go back to my old school. You blink back tears, you miss your friends, and at least there you felt smart. He gives your hand a squeeze.
Zayn: Then I’ll make them back off you if you help me stop smoking. You think it over.
You: Won’t that involve lots of hanging out together. Zayn winks at you.
Zayn: Not just a pretty face huh? He stubs out his cigarette, stands up holding an outstretched hand to you. As he pulls you up he gives you a reassuring smile.
Zayn: Who knows maybe we’ll get your grades up too so your parents will let me take you on a date. You smile and blush slightly, not sure of what to say, he keeps hold of your hand and confidently leads you back to the school.
