Triple Dog Dare *A Zayn Malik Love Story*

Chapter 7

The song for this chapter is Grade 8 by Ed Sheeran(: One of my favorites from this beautiful, beautiful man!

*Camille's POV*

"Okay, well we've seen each other twice since we made the lunch date for Wednesday, so I would say I'll see you then, but who even knows. I'll probably end up seeing you some time before then." Zayn and I approached the apartment elevator.

He laughed. "I wouldn't mind that too much. I like seeing you," he smiled. I blushed and he leaned down to give me a goodbye kiss on the cheek.

"Bye," I said quietly as I stepped onto the elevator, slightly disappointed he didn't give me an actual kiss. Deep down, though, I knew he wouldn't. The doors shut and his flawless face disappeared from my view.

By the time we'd finished working out, he had his shirt off causing the entire girl population at the rec center to swoon and stare. I'm not gonna lie but some of the male population was staring too. Yeah. He was that good looking. The band of his under armour boxers peeked out over his dark grey shorts as his toned body glistened from sweat from running on the treadmill beside me. It was secretly really fun to watch.

Getting ready for bed, I thought over everything. I laid comfortably in the security of my bed for a couple minutes before my eyes landed on the notebook planted on my bookshelf. I had always written stories in it, and many people told me that my writing was incredible. I never had anything great to write about, though. My focus was always foreign language and business, but that didn't mean writing wasn't a passion.

I reluctantly sat up and crawled to the edge of my bed, reaching for the familiar book and resituating myself in bed once it was in my hands. Looking through my story-filled notebook, I smiled, remembering how much I wanted to be a writer when I was in middle school and in my first two years of high school. I'd thought about going back to it countless times, but I always decided to stick to business and language.

Some of the stories I vaguely remembered writing, and others I remembered vividly. I wrote ones about the camp I attended as a kid, ones about Christmas, ones about parties, and ones about boys.

A thought sprung to my head and I looked around the room for something. Not finding it anywhere, I jumped out of my bed and ran to the kitchen, grabbing the first one I spotted. Settling into my previous position in my bed, I clutched the pencil delicately between my fingers and began writing on the first clean sheet of paper. The words seemed to flow from the pencil on their own, forming words without hesitation.

Once I decided I was finished with the newest addition to the booklet, I went back to read it. It was mine and Zayn's story... so far... but that was a story I'd keep private. I'd add things as they happened and keep them to myself.

I flipped to another clean page, and started a different story. A story that was different from any I had written before. I wrote about a world where anything you could possibly want was at your fingertips, and what the effects of it were. I thought of my idol, Marilyn Monroe and wrote about her.

See, most people think she was "just a pretty face" and wasn't worth shit, so I wrote her story- a story written from everything people told me, to everything the book I had about her said. I added a lot of what I expect her to be or what I thought she would be like, based on what I thought of her.

I wrote for hours, jotting down my ideas and developing a plot, characters, places, etc. When I finished, I read it over and decided I wanted to show this piece to someone. And I knew exactly where to start.

*2 days later - Wednesday, 11:00*

*Camille's POV*

I hurried to my full-length mirror to make sure everything was in place. I readjusted my blouse and skirt, before gracefully picking up my bag and slipping my journal in at the last minute. I stalked to the elevator with my heels clicking on the hardwood floor. I was extremely nervous. Today was the day of our first real date.