The Perks Of Being A Girl ♀ Zayn Malik

Perk 1 - Heels

The Perks of Being a Girl [Zayn Malik] 

Perk 1 - Heels 

*

Malik's P.O.V.

"Veronica!"

I turned around to face the bitch of my school, Marilyn, always wearing that tank top of hers, even though it was only ten degrees Celsius outside.

"Hey!" I greeted back, using my charmingly feminine looks and fake smile to fool the stupid girl. You could tell that I didn't enjoy the moment one bit.

"Wanna go eat lunch?" She asked, smacking on her gum rather loudly.

"Sure!" My one-word answers usually work really well with people that have a low IQ.

I walked side by side with her and her little "clique", although I really hate them while other girls worship them. Who said I was a girl?

She started ranting on about how her boyfriend wasn't talking to her very often and I thought to myself, who'd date you?

To say that I'm hateful doesn't make me feel bad one bit. I've been stuck in this hellhole of a school for two years and I was finally graduating. I was actually wondering how people survive in this place full of jerks, fakes and assholes. Those girls in the fan fictions that I've read are my role models.

I hate this place. I was going to be a girl for a bit to find out what boys are like in Perrie's perspective, but after my first year here, I've realized what a big mistake I had made. I only wanted to do this for a short period of time, but who knew that the people here only liked me because I was related to myself?

People adore me because I'm supposedly related to Zayn Malik, one of the members of One Direction. All the students give me their study notes and lunch money and teachers let me pass even though I get a zero on my test. It's really stupid; don't you just hate it when people force themselves to be something they're not for people just so they can get benefits for themselves? In my case, they want to meet "me".

Guess they already did.

Don't get me wrong, I like passing tests without trying and buying steaks for lunch, but I always feel guilty. It's weird. Almost like a dilemma.

Almost.

And I don't like it one bit.

In fact, I hate being a girl.

But it's just a few more weeks.

A few more weeks of pure torture.

And then I'm out of this joint.

The cafeteria is the worst place to be during lunch hour (when else would you go?). Everyone is there and it's just terrible. Some people just had gym so they're all sweaty, stinky and sticky and some people can't shut their mouth.

I hate this place with a burning passion.

I walked faster than my "group" and got in line for lunch. Once it was my turn, I simply ordered a salad and mashed potatoes. The lunch lady gave me this mashed potato mountain and this bowl of salad so high, I couldn't even see.

I wobbled to find a seat in the crowded cafeteria and I caused the biggest story of a lifetime.

You know in those typical stories where the nerd accidentally spills food all over the popular fakes and ruins their designer clothes? Well, I am popular and I am fake, but I don't buy designer clothes. My cheap heels had to break and I stumbled forward, knocking over someone in the process.

The nerd.

There he was drenched in mushy potatoes, topped with lettuce, creamy dressing and croutons. I nearly started laughing, but I managed to get up, take off my heels (showing my manly feet) and go over to him saying sorry.

Talk about a plot twist.

"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, putting on a shocked expression.

"It's f-fine," he muttered. Damn, I was a good actor.

"Want to sit with me for lunch?"

"Uh, o-okay." What can I say? It's not my fault that I have such feminine talent.

Sitting down, my hand accidentally brushed his thigh and I could feel the grunt catch up in his throat.

Oops.

*

This is so much fun to write.