The Marcel Makeover

Chapter 5

OK! Here we go...

Zayn's POV

"Hi honey, what d'you have now?" I asked my girlfriend, Beth, wrapping my arm around her waist.

"Oh, Zayn! I have Maths now, what about you?" She replied, giving me kiss on the cheek.

"Nothing, I was planning to go to the study room, our Maths teacher wants to talk to me later. Who else is in your Maths class...? Is that weirdo freak Marcel there, too?"

"Zayn, you know very well he isn't a weirdo or a freak, just because he gets good grades. He's actually a very nice guy, at least once you get to know him."

"Wait, you talk to him?"

"Uh... Yeah."

I stopped in the middle of the corridor.

"You talk to him? Beth, don't you get it, he likes you. I... It's so obvious. You should really stay away from him. I don't want you going anywhere near him."

"You can't tell me what to do. Besides, what would happen if I went anywhere near him?" She questioned me, raising one of her eyebrows.

"Then... Then I would..." I trail off.

"What? Ditch me, break up with me like you did with all your previous girlfriends? Zayn, I thought you had changed. I thought you were loyal!" She screamed, running off.

"I have changed!" I lied.

"Wow, bro, you got it bad. You probs just lost the hottest girl in school, mate." I heard a guy with a thick Irish accent say behind me.

I turned around, curious to see who the heck was talking to me.

It was a blond dude, his hair up in a quiff. He had blue eyes, was wearing a white 'Crazy Mofos' t-shirt, with black pants that were hanging low on his waist, white supras and a red SnapBack.

Niall Horan.

The school's 'leprechaun'.

This guy was carefree, and got on your nerves a lot.

I didn't like him, but he was good company every now and then.

"Shut it, Horan."

"Chill, Malik."

Yeah, as you could see we called each other by our surnames. Not the best friendship...

I huffed and walked to the study room. It wasn't like me to do homework, but I had nothing else to do, because my Maths teacher wanted to talk to me, after he finished Beth's lesson.

'Why are we not in the same class?' You might be wondering. Well, that's because I'm in Maths #1 and Beth and Styles are in Maths #2. I really wish I was there with here, to prevent anything from happening. I kinda know that Styles won't 'try' anything on her, he's too afraid. Still, you never know.

Not that I'm afraid of that Styles guy or something. I actually want to smash his his head against a brick wall.

Why?

Because it's fun. He doesn't even defend himself. He literally doesn't try to stop me from hitting him. He doesn't tell teachers, but that's probably because I threaten him into not telling him.

But now... Now he's gone way too far, liking my girlfriend.

Yeah, sure, I've been out with a lot of girls, but Beth... Beth is different.

And Styles wants her.

Huh.

Will I let him snatch her away from me?

Oh, heck no.

Marcel's POV

Yay for Maths! And the best thing of all, it was with Beth! Maybe Genevieve is right...

Maybe I should I ask her out.

I shrugged the thought off and laughed lightly. As if. She didn't even like me anyway. But she did defend me from her own boyfriend sometimes, and I am grateful for that.

Then the bell rang.

"Alright students, get your books out and do question 1 to 20 on page 100." Our Maths teacher, Mr. Milligan, said.

The class groaned and I was the only one that opened my textbook and started the sums.

It was algebra, easy.

And before I knew it, the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson.

I quickly packed my things, ready to leave.

"Mr. Styles, could you come over here for a minute?"

I gulped, I rarely got called to stay back in class by the teacher.

I haven't done anything wrong, have I?

"Yes, sir?"

"Marcel, as you may know, you are probably the best student, so, I was wondering if you had time to tutor a student?"

Yeah, why not?

"Will my grades get higher?"

He laughed, "Yes, you will get and extra point if the student gets a better grade at the end of the year."

"Sure, sir. I'll do it."

"Thank you, Marcel."

I was going to leave the class, but a question popped into my mind.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"How many times a week do I have to tutor the student?"

"Ah, yes, three times."

"Oh, one more question. Who do I have to tutor?" I asked.

"Zayn Malik."