When Worlds Collide - A Zayn Malik Fanfic

3; First impressions, futuristic locks, and feminine products

Zayn

I pull up outside of the address on Westlake’s pamphlet, and repeatedly check the pamphlet in my hands, making sure it’s correct. Outside stands three tall buildings that reach the sky. The buildings are very old, with brick walls and long, old windows. Large grassy fields sit around the area with every goal and court for every sport ever imagined. I recognise the soccer field as the one inside the pamphlet, but other than that the school in the pamphlet, and the school right outside my car window, are completely different. The school in the pamphlet is bright and almost happy looking, it’s alive with students with smiles and it almost looks liveable. The school outside is so dull and dead it looks like a historic haunted mansion.

"You’re fucking joking," I mumble, shutting the pamphlet and stuffing it into the pocket inside my leather jacket. My parents had sent me to hell on earth. A quick look at the clock in my car tells me it’s 1 in the afternoon.

I step out of my car - my only treasured belonging. I had gotten it about three years ago, and it needed lots of work. I was never good with cars, but my best friend back in Bradford, Rico, was the king. He fixed the old thing right up and it’s been great ever since. I feel a small pang of sadness as I realise I’ll never get to see Rico again, but I quickly brush it away.

As I grab my bags out from the back, not very many, I hear nothing but an ominous and eerie silence, and it just creeps me out more. I can’t even see, or hear, any sign of life here. What if once I’m in I won’t be allowed back out? My mind thinks about all the horror movies I’ve seen with kids going into big old buildings and never coming back out. I shudder. This place looks like the right setting for one of those movies.

I slam my car door shut and toss my keys into my back pocket before heaving my bag over my shoulder and lugging my suitcase behind me. I walk towards what I’m pretty sure is the main office, although I can’t be sure where the hell entrances and exits are here. Once inside I realise the place is a whole lot different inside than it is out. It’s warmer, and a bit more brighter. I can smell the faint scent of some aromatic candle mixed in with coffee and hear the hum of a printer. Tall vases of flowers sit on glass coffee tables with arm chairs around them and the walls are covered in photos of high academic students. Peering closer at the photos I realise there’s a lot of the same guy.

"May I help you?"

I turn to the sudden voice and almost whack over one of the precious vases. One of those things could feed my family for a whole year. I look behind the front counter and see an elderly woman smiling at me. She wears chain glasses and a floral print shirt, and bright red lipstick.

I walk towards her and dump my bags down. “Yeah, hi. I’m Zayn."

She looks blankly at me, and I elaborate more. “Zayn Malik. I’m new."

"Oh, why of course!" She puts on her glasses and starts shuffling through papers on the desk. “We’ve been expecting you." How more horror story can you get with that line? She looks back up at me, wetting her thumb and flicking through more sheets of paper. “Zayn, Zayn, Zayn…ah, yes! Welcome to Westlake!"

I give the smallest, forced smile in return. “So great to be here," I mumble sarcastically.

"Your mother called before your arrival," the lady continues. “Told us all we needed to know about you!"

Oh, shit.

"Very intelligent, are we?"

"Not really," I say.

"Oh, a humble young man." The lady smiles. She nods her head to the left. “The principal is waiting for you. She’s just down the hall, first door on your left. Hope you enjoy Westlake, Mr. Malik."