Unforgettable

Chapter 2

The metal door to my locker slammed back into it’s clasp, the sound harmonizing with the 7th period bell. Kids scurried quickly down the hall, running into to their classes, hoping the teacher would let their tardiness slide. However, I strolled at my very own pace, rubbing at my kinked jaw, still trying to make the stinging subside. Even if the forming black and blue bruise said otherwise. 

My eyes followed along the door numbers until I reached that dreadful English room. It wasn’t the study of literature, because I was actually quite the fan, behind closed doors, it’s more of the environment, and snarky comments the teacher would drop on occasion. Instead, I normally just walk into class and see everything in the room a blur, almost a burden to even acknowledge. 

I swung open the classroom door, and as usual, attention was focused onto me. Whispers from around the room surfaced, but I continued my stroll in, until the teacher turned to face me, with his hands onto his khaki clad hips. 

"Late again, Zayn?" He said, voice sounding exhausted, but his features remained hard, "I told you one more time, and you’re out of here." He warned and I shrugged, walking over to the middle row, and to my desk.

As I approached my seat, I heard someone scoff, and I turned my attention to a couple desks down; the someone being one of Liam Payne’s followers, and I just rolled my eyes in return. 

"I’m not kidding, Z. I have a fresh new stack of referrals; a pink slip calling your name for some Saturday detentions,” The teacher said, pointing to his desk. 

I followed his finger to the other side of the classroom, my eyes connecting with a pair of blue that were too memorable for me not to acknowledge. I felt my lip quiver as I finally had the chance to see her face free of her sputtering hair, or flushed cheeks. Flawless as I assumed.

She was the first to look away, a small smile and tint of pink surfacing her cheeks, as she focused more onto her blank notepad. She peaked up, reconnecting our gaze, and my right eye dropped into a wink, my lips forming a smirk. 

I sat in my desk seat, and turned towards the teacher who stood tapping his foot with his arms crossed against his chest. 

I nodded my head at him, and opened up my notebook to a new page.

"Won’t happen again, Mr. H"

———-

As the class neared it’s ending, I lifted my head from resting on my hand, and started to put my things away, even if I barely had anything written besides a small doodle of a girl a couple desks down. 

I watched her intently scribble notes, letting her long, dark waves fall against her face, as her pouty lips remained parted, if not captured by her teeth the slightest bit. 

To think back to the months that have passed in this school year, I haven’t really bothered to even look around the room to see who’s in this class, and I regret that greatly.

I tucked my pen into my pocket, and I heard Mr. H loudly clear his throat from the front of the room, 

"Excuse me, we still have 5 more minutes until the bell rings; you shouldn’t be packing up yet. Besides, I still have one last assignment that goes with this lesson." He said, licking the tip of his finger and passing papers to each person. 

"In today’s society of teens, I feel as if you are all sectioned, secluded almost, from each other." He explained, as I trailed my eyes along the directions on the paper. 

"These cliques, all of this media, it has taken over the idea of being who you are, and actually connecting with that, due to status." The teacher rambled, and I skimmed the assignment, internally groaning once I read ‘Partnered Project’. 

"With this project you will simply meet up with your partner, who I have chosen, and find out who they are, as they will do the same to you." Mr. H concluded, and I flipped the page to the back where the list of partners were grouped.

The bell finally rang, just as I found my name. 

Group 8: Zayn Malik, Samantha Nueva. 

I repeated the name in my head, trying to match the face and name. However, my thoughts were interrupted when a smaller figure was stood in front of me, 

"Hi, I think we’re partners." She stated, and I stood up from my seat, towering over the figure whom I have been studying for the past 45 minutes. I grabbed onto her held out hand and shook it slightly and nodded my head, 

"My name is Sam, but I think we’ve met." She introduced, giggling slightly, as we left the room, 

"Zayn." I said simply with a nod, even though my heart rattled against my chest.