Life With Mr. Malik (ON HOLD)

Chapter 8: Bipolar Day

“I see you driving downtown with the boy I love, and I’m like forget you. F-f-forget you!” I sang with all my mind, body and soul as I pretended to drive but was really just sitting in my new car, parked in the garage. Austin told me I couldn’t drive the car until mom saw it so here I am, just shamelessly pretending.

I even got sunglasses on and an electric fan for the wind effect.

I’m that awesome. Need you ask?

“Miles? What are you doing?”

My head whirled around as I immediately recognized Zayn’s voice. I hopped out of the car not because of embarrassment that he saw me jamming but because of fear that somebody might see him. I ran to him and he opened his arms, thinking I was going to encase him in mine in a big hug.

Oh, that poor thing.

Little did he know that I was going to slam him into the bushes . . .

And don't worry, all you Zayn fanatics. The rose bushes are out of reach at the moment.

He landed on his back with me falling on top of him. We both immediately pushed each other aside with mortified expressions, our arms and legs flinging as we distanced ourselves from each other.

He propped himself on his elbows. “What’s going on?”

“What are you doing here?!” I hissed.

“I came to check on the car.” He whispered back.

“The car’s fine. Thanks. You can go now.” I said, rolling my eyes.

He shook his head. “That’s not the only reason why I came here, you idiot.”

“What? Did you come to ask if my lawn was being properly mowed too?” I asked him sarcastically with the same stupid grin that annoys him so much.

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve succeeded in driving Zayn bananas, I’d be richer than Bill goddamn Gates.

Heck, I’d be able to afford Bill Gates.

“Earth to Zayn. Earth to Zayn.” I teased when he wouldn’t reply. “You know it’s considered rude not to answer when you’re in the territory of someone else, particularly when you’re behind their bushes. I read that somewhere.” I waited for him to mock me back, but he stayed dead silent. Like what he wanted to say was going to come right back and bite him in the ass. “So, are we really playing the quiet game because I am very bad at that . . . I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet even if my life depended on it!” I let out a cough before continuing. “I bet if I was in a horror movie, I’d be the first to die because when the lights are out and the serial killer is somewhere around the house, he’d find me so easily because I’d be too fidgety in a corner or something.” I coughed some more. “Whoa. Did you hear that?” I massaged my neck and pointed to it. “Lots of phlegm in there.”

Zayn covered my mouth with his hand and leaned forward as he whispered. “You talk too much, Miles.” He dropped his hand. “I actually came here to ask if you would like to spend a day with me and my parents.”

Are my ears deceiving me?!

Spend a day with him?

And his parents?

Holy Sacajawea, is he serious . . .

We agreed to be a fake couple but we never discussed anything about meeting anyone’s family. That was never in my job description!

Again, folks.

INJUSTICE.

Somebody just get my damn lawyer on the phone.