Secrets (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 4

I run my fingers along the royal crowning running horizontally down the walls. The stuffiness of the building suffocates me, causing me to strip the thick layers off my body, leaving me in a lavender sweater dress. As I approach my dorm, exhaustion overwhelms my body and I'm more than ready to release today's stresses in my dreams and rinse myself of all my worries with a steaming hot shower. I stopped by a friends dorm for about 30 minutes for a quick reminder on the homework, and of course that turned into a tea party...with alcohol.

As soon as I touch the door handle, two girls, one blonde and one brunette, dash down the hall in just bathroom towels, laughing obnoxiously loud as they turn the corner. I shake my head, mainly at what I can assume they're doing or soon will be.

But then I see him, his black hair carelessly styled, and a white bathroom towel also draped around his waist.

Out of no where I start to laugh to myself, a genuine laugh with confusion and a little bit of pain, hidden behind it.
I grip the rusted gold door handle, trying to contain my laughter, a nervous habit of mine.

Disappointment and shame wash over his face, as to where I just feel the disappointment. I scan his body from head to toe and realize he's covered in ink. Of course, it wasn't noticeable with him drenched in all black early this morning but now I see each little image, and quote. I have to admit my favorite is his snake tattoo, or the colorful "ZAP!" on his forearm. Each one so different from the other, two opposite meanings, representing completely different things.

"Ella" he whispers, but loud enough to pull me from my thoughts. He stares at the water dripping from his forehead to his feet, not daring to make eye contact with me.

"Zayn" my voice cracks, at it's lowest volume.

"It's not what it looks-"

"Actually it is," I cut him off for the second time today, "you seem nice, although I could be wrong considering I met you less than 24 hours ago, but yes you seem nice." I glare at him and I know he can feel the burning hole in his scalp as I hold my fiery stare. "But please," I chuckle, my nerves once again seeping through, "go on your way, this never happened."

He remains silent and still, evident shame on his face, there's nothing left for him to say.

"Goodnight Zayn." I open the door to my room and lock it shut, saving myself from any other excuses that could come from his mouth.

I plop on the bed, and flip on the tv. I begin to have a mental debate with myself between watching Spongebob and Teen Wolf when I realize my fathers trial was aired today. Immediately I flip the channel to the local news, and see his mug shot posted on the screen.

"Michael Rivers was tried today for the murder of his wife, Keira Rivers. While the verdict may seem obvious to the public, this trial is predicted to continue for the next few days due to the amount of evidence expected to be presented."

The anchor woman intertwined her hands in a consoling manner, as if she's pitying me exactly. Or I'm just paranoid and she's posing as she should.

"The where abouts of the couples daughter, Ellana, is unknown, and according to family members, it will remain that way."

What? What family members?

I look up and see my grandmother talking to the news reporter, the bright flashing lights clearly straining her eyes.

"As a family we feel it's best to protect Ellana from the public, and that's to not speak of her. Yes, I spoke to her recently, and she is doing well as we would hope, but as a family unit we want her to have the best, most normal life as possible for as long as she possibly can."

She looks down, sadness taking over her emotions, and she opens her mouth to speak once more. But abruptly shuts it, leaving me wondering what she was about to say.

I shut the tv off and meditate in silence.

My head is spinning, I'm paranoid, I'm emotionally broken, I'm terrified of every adult man that walks by me on the street, maybe even teenage boys as well. But as for that teenage boy, I'm terrified as to what he could do to me emotionally.

"Ella wake up!!!"

Flashbacks of my mother appear and my anxiety is given full control of my body, shaking me awake. I sit up in a rush causing my head to spin, my breathing at a rapid pace. When I see pale blue eyes and blonde curls covering my face, I know that it's my best friend Ashley. My sudden wake startles her, and she flinches away from me.

"What the hell Ashley?" I groggily ask, rubbing my eyes to rid them of the extreme bags resting below the rims.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, I just didn't want you to miss your first class!" Her voice is small, and I feel like I just scolded a puppy.

"It's ok, but my classes don't start until 11 Ash," I glance at my alarm clock, and read "10:25"

"Dammit!" I jump out of bed running to the ridiculously small closet across the room.

"Yep, you're welcome." She laughs and spreads her arms across the mattress.

"You couldn't try to wake me up around ten maybe?!" I panic, pulling clothes off the hanger not bothering to take the time to put them back up.

"You looked so peaceful and rested I didn't want to rob you of that." She sighs

"I'm anything but peaceful" I think to myself.

I pull on my knit, black and white polka dot sweater along with my sweatpants and boots, rushing out the door as Ashley follows behind me. The hallway reminds me of last nights events and Zayn shirtless chest. I push the thought away, focusing on the class I desperately need to get to. I press the down button on the elevator, my patience wearing thin with each passing second. The ride down, excruciatingly slow.

The elevator doors open and I dash across the lobby to the main hallways, to my locker. The halls bustle with people. Girls in mini skirts or leggings applying what's probably their fifth layer of makeup this morning, guys in huge groups comparing schedules and talking about what pranks they can pull this year. I reach my locker and yank it open, collecting my supplies for first hour.

"Ella, slow down seriously. We left our dorm at 10:30 and it's 10:35, jeez."

Ashley's reminder calms my nerves slightly, and I feel my shoulders relax. I inhale deeply, and exhale, releasing the weight tensed up in my body and rested on my shoulders.

"By the way, I'm loving the careless look. Flawless, yet effortless." She chuckles, leaning against the locker next to mine, "And it seems Mr.Zayn Malik loves it as well," she grins and I look over my shoulder.

As soon as I catch his gaze, he looks away. "You know him?" I ask.

"Yeah who doesn't? He's just a sophomore but quite a popular one at that." She glances at him and I hear her sigh "and beautiful."

"Well he can flash his beautiful looks your way because he comes off as a player. As you know, that's not my thing." I slam my locker and begin walking to class.

We walk by him, and I feel that familiar burn in the back of my head as I pass and drift farther away my boots leaving a trail for him to follow.