[COMPLETED]
❝Death is inevitable. It's a promise made to us at birth.❞
Arielle is a studious young woman striving to be a chef. Her life is full of going to class, reading textbooks, and hanging out with her friends, until she meets Zayn. Zayn's an...
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➳ ZAYN'S POV
I tap my foot impatiently against the hard linoleum flooring. It feels like I've been here forever. Why can't my mother just see me immediately? Why does the Lieutenant's son have to wait in the sitting room? I check my messages for the thousandth time, realizing I've somehow missed a call from Drew.
Rushing over to the cranky receptionist, I tell her that I have an important call to attend to. She gives me a dirty look, but nonetheless says she'll signal to me if my mother cares enough to finally see me. I scurry out the front doors and quickly dial Drew's number. He picks up on the fourth ring.
"Hello?"
"Drew, it's me." I pace back and forth across the sidewalk. I've been waiting around too long for everything today and it's caused me to be really fucking irritated.
"What's up, mate?"
"I need a favour," I demand, not even giving him a chance to respond. "Arielle really needs a job, can you help me out? Doesn't your dad own a restaurant or some shit?"
I hear Drew let out a breath of air before responding, "What kind of job?"
"She's trying to become a chef and she's looking for an internship kind of thing 'cause the one she was provided with fell through." I decide to leave out the whole thing about her Chef being a fucking stalker, he doesn't need to know.
"That's rough mate, but I'm not sure I can do anything. My father owns part of a restaurant with Snow's dad, remember? So I'd have to pass this along to her dad as well and Snow's in rehab right now, so it might be hard to reach her."
I feel the irritation growing within me again. Why can't he just get her a fucking job? All I'm asking is for her to cook a plate here and there and he's acting as if I'm asking for her to run the damn place. "C'mon, mate, I'm in a real tough spot here. She really needs this. Can't you pass it by your father? She's one of the best in her class, I know she is."
Drew sighs, "I'll try, Zayn, but I can't guarantee anything, remember that."
"That's all I wanted to hear," I respond, although I wish he'd tell me she has a job.
"My father is really busy with resumes and shit so she'll have to be really good to catch his eye," he adds.
"She is, Drew. Trust me. He'd be an idiot to pass her up." When I glance over my shoulder, the receptionist is approaching. "I gotta' go, mate, thanks. Call me when you hear something, yeah?"
"I'll talk to you soon," he replies, hanging up. As I head back into the building, I can't help the uncomfortable feeling that washes over me as I stand in a police station, surrounded by cops. I know what I do in my spare time is illegal and I can sense that most of the cops around me realize that too. They probably even suspect my mum of being a crooked cop, but none would ever dare say that to me. I know she'd do anything to protect me from jail, but she is not crooked.
