Triple Dog Dare *A Zayn Malik Love Story*

Chapter 20

The song for this chapter is The Way You Make Me Feel by Michael Jackson(:

*Camille's POV*

I took a deep breath before lifting my fist and knocking on the door to my dad's house. No more than ten seconds passed before the door in front of me opened, a warm, inviting smile stretched across my father's face.

"Come on in," he said as he gestured to the inside of his house. I stepped into the warmth of the dwelling, thankful to be out of the frigid, late February air. He offered me a hug as I passed by. "I have a mocha waiting for you in the kitchen." I smiled at the fact that he still remembered it was my favorite as well as the coffee mug he'd set out for me- the Les Misèrables mug I kept specially at his house for when I visited.

"How are you?" I asked, sneaking a sip of my coffee as he closed the front door.

"Good. What's up with you? Why'd you need to talk to me?"

"I really need to talk to you about school and stuff..." My voice faded at the end.

"I'm all ears, but let me take your coat for you." I slipped it off and handed it to him. He hung it in the coat closet by the front door and I took the opportunity to sit down at one of the bar stools in his cozy kitchen. Once my dad returned I began to explain my situation.

"I don't think foreign relations is the right path for me," I said timidly, unsure of how he would react. I was afraid to receive my fathers response and actually thought about leaving right then and there.

"So you want to change your major?" he replied slowly after hesitating for a few moments.

"Well... okay. Let me explain. One of the songwriters for Zayn's group took a look at some of my writing and he said it would make a great script for a new TV show in America. He's talking with NBC to see what they are willing to do. If I get that job, I'm going to have to put off my studies to become a professional writer for the show. If not, I'd like to go into Oxford's journalism program for next year. Foreign relations isn't doing it for me. Writing is where my heart is."

He considered my situation. I knew it was going to be a lot to take in so I sat quietly and searched his face while he contemplated. "Well, the first part of your plan seems a little risky, but I'm glad you have a plan B in mind in case it doesn't work out. You're nineteen so I can't exactly tell you what to do anymore, but I wouldn't want you to stick with a major you don't feel committed to. It's probably too late in the year to switch majors, so what are you gonna do about that?"

I inhaled a deep breath. "Well, I think I'll have to drop out for the rest of this year if I do get the position because I'd have to probably go to America and I can't do both at once. If they don't need me and plan A doesn't work out then I'll go back in the fall and major in journalism."

"Sounds like you've really thought this through," he acknowledged. "Can I eventually meet this songwriter? What's his name?"

"His name is Savan Kotecha."

"Well next time we have dinner, maybe you could invite him and Zayn." His eyes met mine. "Speaking of Zayn, how is he? I liked him."

I grinned. "He's great. I'm actually gonna visit him after I'm done here. I haven't told him any of this yet. You're the first person I've told." By now I'd finished my coffee and was loading my mug into the dishwasher. My nerves had gotten the better me while I told my dad about my situation, causing me to compulsively drink my beverage.

He simpered. "Well good. I'm glad your old man is still your first priority."

"Always." He walked down the hallway and grabbed my coat for me. I kissed his cheek and pulled him into a hug after he helped me put my coat on.