My Beautiful King

Chapter Twelve

82 likes on my new Facebook profile picture. It was a photo of my reflection, as taken by my Blackberry, showcasing my new brunette 'do, pouting in the mirror of Hayley's bedroom. I was wearing a pair of small denim shorts and Hayley's ivory lace leotard, my black bra peeking out audaciously. 127 kind comments gazed at me from underneath. One of those many comments was from Zayn.

My girlfriend is looking extremely sexy ;)

Too right I did.

I walked home from Hayley's house wearing borrowed clothes and carrying a large sports bag. Hayley had given me all her old (meaning a year old plus) clothes and even promised to take me shopping during the January sales. She truly was my best friend; maybe I could even classify her as my non-biological sister. I felt as if me, her and Zayn were unstoppable.

I thrust my key into my front door bolt and tiptoed inside my hallway. A gust of malevolent wind slammed the door shut. Crap. Maybe I could still sneak into my bedroom before my parents realised I was home...?

"Ashley?" My mother's voice screeched. "Ashley, darling, is that you?" She ran helter-skelter to the doorway, almost slipping on her worn-out pink slippers. She stopped abruptly, her mouth agape when she saw me.

"Ashley?" Her voice trembled. "What on earth have you...?"

My dad exited the living room to join my mother. His face instantly reflected hers. I groaned inwardly, knowing I should have shut the door a little more carefully...

"Ashley." My dad began. I was beginning to get sick of them saying my name. Couldn't they at least call me Ash? "Where were you last night?"

"Bridget's." I attempted to dodge my parents and run up the stairs but my mother blocked me.

"That's a lie, Ashley." My dad's voice was firm and furious. "Bridget's mum called last night, said she wanted to speak with all of us."

Busted.

I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. "You know Bridget's mum, she's a bit out there-"

"Ashley, stop!" My mother interjected. "Tracy is in no way 'out there'. She's worried, in fact. Says Bridget's been acting strangely lately, locking herself in her room and blasting melancholy music. Tracy says she's even asked for-"

"What does this have to do with me?" I was irritated. My room was about thirty-two footsteps away...

"Because," my mum raised her voice. "Bridget told her some of the most implausible things about you! I find it hard to believe half the stuff she's said... She said that you publicly humiliated her and you two haven't been in contact for weeks. Meaning that you certainly weren't at her house yesterday and weren't at her house revising maths when you said you were! Apparently, you've got a boyfriend; some troublemaker named Zayn-"

"Bridget doesn't know anything about Zayn!" I fumed. "She's just jealous that I have a boyfriend and loads of mates and she lives an ascetic life not worth living for!"

The silence that graced the hallway was eerie. My mother stared incredulously, eyes voluminous with disbelief. "Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your breath, Ashley?" My dad leant closer towards me and began to nod like a maniac. "It's cigarette smoke! Ashley, what on earth do you think you're doing with yourself? I hope this boy hasn't made you do this."

"And your hair, Ashley, your hair!" Mum cried. "You had such beautiful hair, why have you damaged it so?"

"You need to put some more clothes on; you're hardly wearing anything right now! You're dressed like some sort of slut Ashley and that's not who you are. We raised you better than that! Its skimpy clothes and make-up like this that attracts such troublemakers."

"And what about Bridget, poor Bridget? You need to apologise to her, when shall I arrange a meet-up?"

"We hardly see you anymore, Ashley! You're always closed up in that room of yours, on that damn Blackberry, probably talking to that foolish teenager! I regret getting it for you."

"A letter from your school arrived in the post, Ashley. They say you've been working at a rate that's less than adequate. You were always a top star student, darling, you took pride in that! Why have you stopped all the hard work?"

"How long have you been with that Zayn boy? What have you done together? I swear if he's had his hands on you the wrong way I will sort him out, no problem."

"What happened to my sweet baby? Why are you being like this? I don't understand-"

"Shut up!" I screamed. "Fucking hell, the both of you just stop. Do you want me to be sorry for finally living my life? If so, then I apologise profoundly-"

"Don't you ever talk to us like that." My dad jabbed his index finger into the air that swirled in front of my face. "I won't tolerate it. Get to your room. I didn't realise you could be so easily influenced. I don't want to hear from you until we say so."

"I'd really rather-"

"Ashley, get moving now!" His face began to pigment puce with indignation.

I pushed past my mother and stormed up the stairs. Slamming my bedroom door shut, I threw myself onto my bed and let the tears flow down my face. How dare they yell at me like that? It was so unreasonable; they wouldn't even listen to my side of the story. Stupid fucking idiots. I hated them. I hated them. I plunged into the pocket of my cardigan and brought out my phone to text Zayn.

Parents are being complete dicks. Help me? x

Zayn replied back in about four minutes.

Aw babe, sorry to hear that! Maybe you could come round to mine? My parents are out for the weekend ;) x

I stared at the text, silently. Thinking. Considering. Evaluating.

My parents are downstairs; I won't make it out the front door x

I had to wait for what felt like forever until Zayn replied back.

Make it out your window then. Come if you wanna come, if you don't then just say so x

I glanced at the large window that dauntingly overlooked my bed. It wouldn't be too hard to climb out. And I had actually never been to Zayn's house before. I needed some comforting and if Zayn was willing to give it, I should be ready to receive.

Okay, I'm gonna change and redo my make-up. Send me your address and I'll be there ASAP x