Flames

eight

I made a wry face as soon as he lit the cigarette.

Zayn rolled his eyes and smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who hates smoking and you’ll give me a lecture about how it’s bad for you and whatever the fuck else.”

“No, I really don’t care if you smoke, it’s none of my concern if you want to have health problems when you’re old and wrinkly. The smell doesn’t bother me either, I just can’t stop thinking about those cigarette commercials with the old lady and how she has a hole on her neck so she can breathe, and how she sounds like Morgan Freeman on steroids,” I commented, shaking my head as I tried to avoid picturing the image in my mind.

“Yeah, thanks for that mental picture,” He said, removing the cigarette from his parted lips and letting it drop to the floor, then scrunching it with the bottom of his black boot.

“Hey, you brought it up,” I replied, inching closer to lean against the brick wall, right next to Zayn.  

“Right,” He added, looking around the area. We were the only ones outside, mostly due to the slight rain that had decided to pay us a visit.

“Well, are you going to tell me how you know Louis Tomlinson?” I asked, looking at him through the corner of my eyes.

“No.”

“Why the hell not? I told you how I knew him, now why can’t you do the same?” Of course that was due to him giving me his cheese zombie, which wasn’t the greatest idea in the end since it ended up in the trash.

“You know, your voice gets really soft and low when you say his name, why is that? Do you still care for him?” He asked. My eyes immediately widened at the questions, my heart beating faster by the second.

I had no idea that my voice changed whenever I spoke his name, nor did I want it to. If that was the case, then I wish someone would have pointed it out earlier so I would never say it again, and after this moment, I was probably not going to either.

“I-I don’t know,” I replied. “Maybe it’s because just saying his name makes me so mad, since you know, w-we hate each other and whatnot,” God, if the stuttering didn’t give it away then my shaking hands and rapid breathing probably did.

Zayn chuckles, just like I knew he would. How most of the student body believed my lie of “hating” him every day bewildered me. Maybe I was just a great actress, except I had no idea how to act - I just viewed it as lying.

“Right, you hate each other now,” Zayn repeated. “That’s cute.”

 I looked the other way and sighed. He was teasing me, knowing that we both knew the truth of the matter.

“Anyway, stop trying to change the subject. I’ve told you more about my life than you need to know, especially when we just met today, so if you don’t mind, I’d like o know how you are affiliated with him,” I pestered again. I wasn’t outside with him to be friendly and eventually become friends, I was just very, very curious as to how the two of them knew each other and why they seemed to not like one another.

“I’ve got nothing in return, so why would I tell you anything?” Zayn said, reaching the inside of his pocket for another cigarette. Addicted much?

“Fine, what do you want?” I asked. I understood the concept of “exchange”, but I didn’t understand why he was being so difficult about it.

“I want,” He started, but then lifted the cigarette to his mouth and took a long drag, letting out the smoke a couple seconds later. “I want you to go out with me some time.”