Fire Starter

Chapter Eleven

I'll start switching characters perspectives for more of an understanding to decipher his thoughts, aka Zayn's, how he fits the character or whatever. But I don't wanna give away too many hints. D:

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Monday was the day when I got to know Mason more, and Zayn a tad but more through Mason, as we had spent the afternoon together in the living room.

Tuesday was the day after when Mason left during the day, and Zayn left at night, leaving me to lock myself in the attic for the times being.

Wednesday was the same as Tuesday.

Thursday was the same as Wednesday.

Today was Friday; the same as Thursday. Like a routine, Mason had left during the day, Zayn at night. It was as if they were selling drugs as a job, but were taking turns to babysit me, as if I couldn't be left alone. Or they could just be working normal jobs.

I took note that Zayn was available every single day and afternoon, but Monday night through Friday nights he was busy. Saturday and Sunday nights he was free for the whole forty-eight hours.

As for Mason, he was busy on week days except for Monday, and I figured it was because he goes to a college.

Exactly when Mason would come through the door at 9:30ish, Zayn would leave merely minutes later at 10.

Basically, I was never alone in the house. Ever.

I asked Mason what he was doing everyday and I was right, he was actually going to school but he was done with his class by 4, and he said he hangs out on campus for a few hours, but he didn't stay out at night because he was being a, quote unquote, responsible scholar.

Today was Friday. It was different from the rest of the days.

Usually Friday meant the end of the week, the start of the weekend, welcoming in lazy sleep-in days, chill days, parties, and the club until Monday swung around the corner like a book thrown at your head.

It was different in many ways... First there was an unusual knock on the front door, and it turned out to be someone coming out to fix the window.

Next, Mason had come back, except he didn't go to his room as usual.

Then I had not a clue why, but when Zayn had went out the door, I was climbing down the latter, and out the door following him.

I was surprised at first that Mason didn't even ask where I was going, but then he made a comment: "I'm suppose to be watching you."

"Whatever." I shrugged. If he dare tried to tell Zayn that I was following him, I'd tell Zayn that he was smoking in the house. It wasn't as if Zayn wouldn't smell it when he walked into the house anyway.

Still I had never seen Zayn smoke cigarettes, but maybe he never did. The cigarettes I'd once seen were probably an American brand that Mason bribed him bring back.

Zayn never took his car to where ever he was going or his motorcycle.

Tonight, he didn't do his hair, because he had a beanie pulled down over it.

There were biting winds outside, and it was the first time I'd been outside in 10 days, I believe.

I had Zayn's grey hoodie on, and a pair of his plaid pajamas pants. They were warm, but they were not the kind of clothes that you would wear if you're spying on someone. Thank God there weren't any street lights, but nor were there any trees or bushes to hide behind.