Life With Mr. Malik (ON HOLD)

Chapter 20: Kisses And Promises

The next few days, apart from the usual schoolwork, I hung out with Wimpy and Dave. Well, separately. Every single time Dave was within five feet of Wimpy's reach, she would puff her cheeks, resembling a blowfish and turn beet red. Wimpy, I learned, was even worse at interacting with boys than I was.

On my second night here, she told me her only guy friend was Ely, her stuffed elephant and that sometimes, even he intimidated her.

"Is tomato a fruit?" Dave asked, holding up his fork with the pierced tomato slice.

It was Saturday morning, and Dave and me were in the cafeteria, eating brunch before proceeding to the TV room. I finished my mac n' cheese a few minutes ago. Meanwhile, Dave was halfway through his third helping of caesar salad. I swear, I've never seen anyone eat so many leaves in an hour.

I looked at him. "Just eat your salad so we could go see the movie already. And if you could be so kind, can we watch the film while there's still daylight out so that I don't scare my lady-balls off?"

"Not a fan of horror, huh?" He asked, obviously resisting the urge to laugh.

"Loathe it," I said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The last scary film I watched was Sinister and trust me, I slept next to my mom three nights straight. She wasn't pleased and even threatened to disown me. Those were my darkest hours."

Dave laughed, closing the styro container when he finished eating the third time around. "Sinister wasn't even that scary. If anything, it was predictable."

"It is when your boyfriend keeps coming from behind to scare you." I said matter-of-factly, remembering how many death threats I told Zayn, most of which included The Unforgivable Curses.

And every time I struck him with a ballpoint pen, screaming spells at the top of my lungs, he would just laugh and pinch my cheeks and call me adorable, making me feel like I were a bunny not a teenage girl.

He enjoys my nork moments.

"Boyfriend?" Dave asked then nodded, muttering. "Oh, right. I forgot. Zayn's girl."

My eyes widened as the title bothered me and not so much the muttering. "Is that what everyone's calling me around here?"

"Yeah, one of the things." He said.

"I'm sorry, what? One of the things? What are the others?"

"The girl who gave Wimpy a chance, Mistress Mischief, Coke Bod . . ." His voice trailed off. "The labels around here don't matter, Miles. I used to be called Daveranged. A bit of terrible wordplay."

I laughed, reached across the table to give his cheek a sympathetic rub and said to him. "It sounds awesome though. And what do they mean by Coke Bod anyway? Mistress Mischief, I understand. Brilliant, by the way. But Coke Bod?! What does that mean?"

He said, scratching the back of his neck. "Oh, you know . . ."

"I don't!" I insisted.

He looked around and turned to face me only when he deemed the coast to be clear. "Your body shape resembles that of a Coke bottle."

I snorted. "Coke can, you mean."

"That's not what I'm hearing from the football team." He said with a teasing smile.

"That's disgusting." I said, making a face as I took his hand. "Let's just go."

The TV room was basically a small movie theatre open to all students every Friday night, airing movies from Albert Einstein's as a Child to Toy Story 3. Luckily, Dave knew his way around the University like the back of his hand. His charm and good looks got us a day worth of movie marathons.