Director's Daughter (Zayn Malik fanfic)

Chapter 5

Okay so here's the next chapter and I find it quite cute and Z might actually be starting to tolerate Zayn and then WHOOP big secret revealed and is it bad that I'm having feels over my own fanfic? I'm special i know. I just can't wait for this book to move on to where the actual story starts to get interesting bc I know it's not that good right now but it has to be like this until everything gets set up but it gets better i promise ;) OKAY that was an innapropriate joke or maybe you just have a dirty mind.

Okay i'm done now sorry xx

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My mom, Zayn, and I walked out of the building and headed across the dark parking lot to our cars. My mom was walking quicker than us, obviously eager to get home to David. They weren't married yet, but they were engaged and my mom already took his last name; Johnson. I took his name too, but not because my mom did. I call David my father, but he isn't my biological father, I was just trying to get rid of my last name as soon as possible. Let's just say, I didn't have a great relationship with my father.

My mom had already drove off by the time Zayn and I reached our cars. We hadn't talked the whole walk, so I wondered why he hadn't walked ahead, too. I pulled my purse over my shoulder and searched around for my car keys.

“We'll be back in the morning.” Zayn chuckled, grabbing my arm and tugging me to the passenger seat of his car. I didn't have time to protest because he was already holding the silver door open for me.

A car accident caused traffic to be really backed up, making the ride home 3 times as long as usual. Normally our car rides were silent, and up until now we hadn't said a word to each other.

“Can I ask you a question?” Zayn spoke up after we'd both been staring into the red brake lights of the Honda Civic in front of us.

“Hm?” I replied, coming back to reality.

“Why'd you take your mom's fiance's last name?” He looked over at me, pondering the possibilities.

“I didn't have the best relationship with my biological father. I guess I just wanted to get that part of my life over with.” I settled with saying. He nodded and we continued on our way home.

When we got home I immediately got into my pajamas. David was nice enough to lend Zayn some basketball shorts to sleep in. My mom and David stayed in their room and watched a movie while Zayn and I occupied the couch while we were eating popcorn and watching House, the TV show about the doctor which I'd never heard of until tonight. It was pretty good. After 4 episodes, it was almost midnight, and we were still wide awake. Zayn searched on his phone for a random truth or dare generator. He handed me his phone and I asked him truth or dare. He chose dare, which was a mistake once I read the dare.

“Run around the block in your underclothes.” I smirked. He opened his mouth to protest, but gave in.

“At least it's midnight.” He shrugged, getting up from the sofa. I followed behind him and we went outside. It was about 60 degrees out and it smelled so fresh outside. It was perfect weather.

“Lucky for you, our neighbors are having a party.” I laughed, looking over to the house next to ours. There must have been 100 people there, drinking, laughing, and having a good time. In half a second, Zayn had his shorts around his ankles and stepped out of them, running quickly down the street as he screamed. Nearly everyone next door stopped and watched. Thank God none of them were looking at me because my cheeks turned bright red at the sight of his black, Calvin Kleins that hugged around his hips perfectly and showed every muscle in his lower half, especially his v-lines. It was about a minute later when he turned the corner and jogged over to where I was standing.

“I should have gone with truth.” He chuckled lightly, pulling his shorts back on. We went back inside and asked each other a couple more questions. Eventually, it just became a question game.

“How many girls have you slept with?” I asked the question that had been on my mind since the day I even knew of him, and apparently it took staying up until 3 am and being so exhausted I didn't know which was was up for me to ask it.

“How do you know I've slept with any girls at all?” He chuckled, cocking his head.

“Come on. You're like the most popular 11th grader in our school.” I reasoned. He shrugged.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” He laughed, raising his hands in protest.

“So how many?” I leaned back into the arm of the couch. He took a while with his answer.

“A few.” Was all he said and I nodded.

“And what about you?” He said a minute later with a grin on his face. I didn't answer. I sunk down in the sofa a little bit and chewed on my sweatshirt cuff that I held up to my mouth.

“Isa-” Zayn started to say but I cut him off only to stop him from saying my name.

“None. Okay? I'm like the only 11th grader that's still this awkward virgin.” I snapped, the exhaustion finally taking over.

“It's not a bad thing. You don't know how bad some of us wish we could take it back. Honestly, you're not missing out on much.” He said softly, looking down a little bit.

“You don't mean that.” I chuckled. All guys love sex, don't they?

“I do and I don't. I mean obviously the experience itself makes you feel amazing. It's afterwards that kills you. The guilt. But more importantly, you feel even worse than you did to begin with because you know you aren't going to spend the rest of your life with that person. You know you don't really care about them as much as you thought you did. You just needed to feel better, but it backfires.” I sat there and thought about every word he just said to me, and then realized he actually just opened up to me. I never really thought about it from a guy's point of view, but I understand now. It was quiet for a really long time. Not so much an awkward silence, more of a nice and quiet kind of silence.

“We should get to sleep.” I said quietly, looking down at my neon blue socks.

“That's probably a good idea.” He smiled, trying to suppress a yawn. I stood up and spoke again quietly, not wanting to wake my parents.

“Right, so, I'll be upstairs if you need me.” I said, pointing to the obvious staircase. Just as I started walking away, he grabbed my arm.

“You're going to leave me all alone?” He pouted. At first I took it as a joke but he didn't look like he was kidding. I sighed.

“There's nowhere for me to sleep down here.” I protested, knowing how comfortable my bed must feel right now.

“This couch is big enough for two.” He grinned up at me. I thought about it for a little bit.

“Are you sure? I've been told I'm a thrasher and a talker in my sleep.” I smiled jokingly. He grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the couch with him. He laid down as close to the back of the couch as he could to give me room. I laid next to him and pulled the covers up to our waists. I tried staying as close to the edge of the couch as I could in attempt to be as far away from him as I could, but I gave up when it became tiring.

Today had just been a never-ending day of reliving my past. It started when we left the studio, when Zayn grabbed my arm. All I could think about was my father. Not David. My actual father. All those times he'd grab me and push me around and hit me. I hadn't told a single soul that my father was abusive, and my mom didn't even know until 2 years ago. That's when my father went to jail and soon met David. It happened again when Zayn grabbed my arm just a few minutes ago. I can't help it. But the worst was definitely when Zayn asked me if I was a virgin, because I'm not. Well, technically I am, but I didn't get the choice like most people. That's how far my father's abuse went, and it was absolute hell.