My Beautiful King

Chapter Twenty Part 1

Walking through the school corridors on the first day back was nothing like I'd envisioned. Was it wrong of me to have expected a swarm of students to flock the hallways, showering me with compliments of how much more gorgeous I'd gotten over the Christmas holidays, spilling out gossip that they wanted me to be the first to know, crossing their fingers and wishing that I'd reciprocate their actions? Was it? I didn't think so.

Instead, I got nothing but a few hesitant smiles and a lot of strange looks coupled by whispers between friends. My fingers instantly flew to my face in self consciousness. Had I overdone the foundation? Did I have strawberry mush wedged between my incisors? No way. I'd checked myself out four times in the mirror before I'd left my house to prevent any possible imperfections. If I was going to confront Zayn, I was going to have to look hot while doing it.

Confront Zayn. The mere idea of it twisted my stomach into knots.

I stood in the corridor outside my tutor room, back against the wall, chewing my bubblegum obnoxiously. Where the fuck was Zayn and Hayley? I peeked into my tutor and saw nothing but a room full of insignificant, stupid losers. Bridget was standing wistfully by the "How to Kill a Mockingbird" display that the year below had made. She kept making this stupid upset face, rubbing her wrist and sneaking glances at the other girls who were crowded around a desk. Bridget was like the Queen of the insignificant, stupid losers. And I was like the Queen of the more interesting people. I laughed to myself.

The slow tick of the clock was driving me crazy. Each tick reminded me of how much of my life was fueled by Zayn and how alone I was without him. It was setting me on edge. Caving in to the analogue machine's ways, I strutted into my tutor room and sat at a desk far away from everyone else. I needed to create a statement of how much better I was than them. But no one even took a second look at me when I walked in. I began to loudly play a favourite tune of Zayn's on the desk with the end of my chewed black biro. I waited for someone, anyone, to give me some form of attention, attention that I was becoming accustomed to. I got nothing.

I sighed and let the air from my mouth blow my bangs upwards.

This was so boring. No one was paying me any mind. I'd even tolerate sitting next to Becca, but she wasn't here either.

I hoped they weren't bunking off school without me...

-x-x-x-x-

Two hours of lesson and there was no sign of the three of them. Not a single person paid any attention to me. Alex didn't even ask me to work with him during Science; he paired up with some random girl who wasn't even as popular as me.

What was wrong with the almighty Ash today?

Fed up, I traipsed from class to my locker during break. I had stored all my school books in there seeing as I never took them home, because I never did my homework anymore.

Dragging my bag on the floor, I approached my locker and began to search for my equipment. But then I saw him.

I saw Zayn.

There he stood animatedly talking to Tyler by the top of the staircase across from me. Damn, he looked hot. Everything about him was so flawless; the way he crinkled his nose when he laughed, the confident stance that his strong lean body held, the way he flexed his jaw when he was deep in concentration.

I needed to talk to him. But maybe I should hold off the confrontation until Tyler left?

I pretended to be busy flicking through the wafer-thin pages of my English book as I waited for their conversation to end. After five minutes of suspicious page rustling, Tyler hit Zayn on the back playfully and began to jog down the stairs. I took this moment to make an appearance.