Sitting at home, I contemplate whether I should get in contact with Zayn so we can start on this project or not. I sigh, saying I might as well try. My phone buzzes with a call and I check the caller ID. Zayn? I had his number? I hesitantly answer his call, thoughts still floating around my head.
"Hello?' My voice cracks in nervousness, and beads of sweat dot my forehead.
"Hi, is this Helena?" The deep accent would've gave away the person, if I hadn't already known.
"How did this number of yours end up in my phone?" I ask cautiously, a hint of nervousness still in my voice.
"When we were in class, I slipped the phone out your pocket, and my number in. I called myself so i got your number," he says triumphantly.
I shake my head, not recalling the sudden slipping of my phone.
"You sneaky bastard," I blurt.
Semiconscious, I cover my mouth before anything else slips out. I hear him chuckle on the other end, and it puts me on edge. His laugh triggers an unknown emotion, and I don't want the feeling to let loose. So, I take a deep breath, waiting for him to continue.
"That's one comment, among many others, that doesn't phase me. As a matter of fact, thank you. I've accomplished to put my number in your phone without you noticing," he says confidently.
I can almost see that smitten look on his face. That ridiculous smirk of his, plastered on his... Wait! What am I doing? Get yourself together, Helena!
"Any who, why'd you call?"
I hear him suck in a huge intake of air.
"I thought you might want to work on that skit. Because that Friday night before it's due I can't," he says almost apologetically.
"Why not?" I seem clueless. I mentally make a note to keep my stupid mouth shut.
"The dance. The Sadie Hawkins dance. Ashley asked me to go," he answers.
"Oh, that's right," I mumble. I don't really keep up to date on all the activities.
Sadie Hawkins is the dance where girls ask the guys. Man, isn't that something?
"Earth to Helena! Anybody home?"
Oops! I had forgotten I was on the phone with this bum.
"Uh, sorry. Just thinking," I say rather quickly.
Zayn chuckles, and I get goosebumps within seconds. I grow sweaty again, and I take deep breaths. There's nothing else I feel for Zayn, but hate. I cannot feel any other way.
"Should I come over?"
I shake my head, but realize he can't see me.
"Don't have to. I'll just finish it, give you your lines, and if we bomb it, so be it," I say, instantly regretting my slip of tongue.
Anything lower than a B+ can drop my average greatly. Damn this tongue of mine. I want to take it back, but I guess I just want to act tough. Zayn's dark chuckle emits from my speakers, and my muscles tense.
"You must be regretting that, oh great one," he says, the last part thick with sarcasm.
"Yeah, but hey, that's what I get for being a goody two shoes, right?" I retort coolly.
"Whatever. Where do you live?"
His sudden forward comment catches me off guard. I open my mouth, but close it again. I hug my knees tighter, and cough to break the silence.
YOU ARE READING
The Furnace in My Heart (A Zayn Malik fanfiction)
Fiksi PenggemarHelena Phillips moved to London to start a new life. Thinking things will get easier, things only get worse than they were in America. She begins to lose faith, but something wills her to go on. Refusing to stay, she moves and starts anew. Everythin...
