My Beautiful King

Chapter Eight Part 1

"Okay sweetheart," my mum spoke as grabbed her purse from the living room table. "Your father and I are going out, the theatre and restaurant address is on the table. Our mobiles will be on, so if you're in troubles call us. Are you sure you'll be okay by yourself tonight?"

I sighed and wrapped a blanket tighter around myself as I stretched my legs out along the sofa. "I'll be fine!" I whined.

My dad stood next to my mum, with his indigo shirt complementing her azure maxi dress. I was practically a spitting image of my mum, minus the fact that I didn't inherit her grey eyes. My green eyes were taken completely from my dad.

"Don't spend too much time on that new mobile of yours!" He said gesturing at the only days old Blackberry that I was clutching in my hand. "Maybe instead you could decorate the house for Halloween tomorrow. Make it all scary for the trick-or-treaters!" Suddenly, my phone buzzed and flashed red. Someone was messaging me... Zayn was messaging me. The text read:

You better wear some of the jewellery I got you to the party ;) x

"Uh huh..." I said weakly, not even acknowledging what my dad said. I wasted no time in tapping back a reply to Zayn though.

Sure. I'll surprise you with whatever jewellery I pick ;) xxxxxx

I was truly pathetic.

"Okay," my mother said in a sing-song voice while planting a kiss on my cheek. "We're going now! We'll be back at about three in the morning, so you should be asleep when we come home. Don't open the door for anyone, answer the house phone or-"

"Okay, okay, mum! Love ya, bye!" I hurriedly ushered them out the front door, taking care to shut it firmly. The moment I was confident they had driven off, I sped up the stairs and into the bathroom.

I showered for about half an hour, thinking about all the possible entries I could have to the party. I even stressed on it while I shaved my legs. Should I be bold and give some sort of loud announcement of arrival? Or should I just be quiet and blend into the background with Zayn? To be honest, I was happy doing which ever option got me closer to Zayn. So if that meant entering the party in an attention-seeking manner, so be it!

Who was I kidding? As if I'd ever have the guts to do something like that.

Wearing nothing but the best cotton underwear I could dig out from my drawer, I knelt down on my fluffy white carpet and reached underneath my bed. There, I found a large powder blue paper bag, which contained the new dress I bought with Zayn. I hadn't told or shown the dress to either of my parents; in fact I hadn't even tried it on. My plan for the party was simple; I refused to check what I looked like until I was just about to leave. That way, I knew that I couldn't chicken out and ended up wearing, as Zayn would put it, a baby frock.

The dress slipped on pretty easily, although I did have to struggle to zip it up all by myself. But the second I put it on, I found myself groaning with regret.

"Crap!" I exclaimed loudly. The dress was a lot shorter than I had expected it to be. It finished about mid-thigh and left way too much leg exposed. I contemplated wearing tights but decided against it seeing as I had already spent so much effort shaving my legs.

I started to do my make-up, remembering everything Hayley had taught me. I managed to poke myself in the eye with a mascara wand twice, due to the fact that my hands were shaking so badly with nervousness. But by the time I applied my cherry red lipstick, my hands were becoming steady. They were even steady enough for me to fish-plait my waist length blonde hair, using my extensive YouTube knowledge.

I didn't own any heels, but I had been practising in my mother's old ones for the past week. My mum's shoes were black, strappy, size four and about four inches high. The heel was a good thing; they'd give me enough height to stand next to Zayn without him towering over me.

I was about to stuff my phone, keys and Oyster travel card into my red patent bag, when I suddenly spotted all the jewellery in there. Stolen jewellery that I'd promised Zayn I'd wear. I groaned inwardly. Which one of my stolen items was I going to wear? I decided upon the golden alligator ring, but as I slipped it onto my finger I couldn't help but sense my body fill with guilt. I wonder if the people in that store were still looking for me and Zayn. Did that make me a criminal? Would I get arrested if anyone recognised the ring as stolen? Pushing my fears to the back of my mind, I stepped in front of the mirror in my mum's room to see how I looked.

I laughed out loud. I looked okay... In fact I looked pretty damn good. I had just enough curves and spent just enough time on a treadmill to have a decent body and fill the dress out nicely. The outfit was a little tart-ish and completely unlike myself, but after all it was for just one night. Wasn't it? I checked the time on my phone; 30 Oct 19:26. I had to leave now. My hands began to sweat as I left my house and locked the door behind me.

The journey to "Yasmin's" house wasn't very far. It was only a fifteen minute bus ride. But the second I stepped on the bus, I found myself greeted by a chorus of whistles and ogling from a mass of thirteen year old boys sitting at the back.

"Alright, gorgeous?"

"Why don't you come sit on my lap?"

"Bow chicka wow wow!"

I shouldn't have felt as intimidated as I did, seeing as I was two years their senior, but I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. I frantically tried to pull my dress down so it touched my knees but had no such luck. In the end, I had to settle with sitting down on the eye-sore patterned bus seats, while trying to block out their brazen, and frankly immature, flirting.

One awkward bus ride later and I had arrived on Yasmin's street. I could hear her party from about sixteen houses away so there was no trouble navigating myself. I didn't even need Zayn's directions. After a short walk of tottering about in my (mother's) heels, I found myself outside Yasmin's door. The front garden was littered with plastic cups, beer cans and half naked teenagers smoking in huddles. Swallowing loudly, I pressed the doorbell.