bad & good // zjm

one

I wake up to the sound of the most annoying alarm clock in the world. I'm starting my Senior year of high school today. I hated my high school, but I was just happy that I would be gone from the hell hole in a year.

I decide to dress sort of nice because I needed to make a good impression on all the teachers. I've never had the first day outfit picked out for months like most girls. I usually pick it out on the day.

I decide on a black daisy crop top and it matches perfectly with my blonde hair. For bottoms I decide on a skater skirt with leggings so I wouldn't get in trouble.

I finish my breakfast and then leave to stand in line for the bus.

--

I arrive to my first class which is British Literature. There aren't many students in the class since it's an AP class and you had to get into Advanced English as a Freshman. Many didn't get in, and I was a lucky one.

The usual smarties are in the class, except this time I spot a new person. I'm usually not a very judgmental person, but he didn't look like the type of person to get into an AP class.

He had a sleeve of tattoos, too many to count. His jawline looked so perfect. In all honesty, it looked like his face was scientifically perfect. There were angles in all the right places. His hair looked messy yet clean at the same time. He had scruff, which I find very attractive.

His looks were beyond perfect, but the look just didn't fit into the smart look. He looked like a bad boy who does drugs and fucks every girl he makes eye contact with. He gave me a bad vibe, and I tried to sit as far away as possible from him. It was pretty easy because he sat in the way back, and I liked sitting in the front. It gave teachers a better impression.

The teacher spoke.

"Hello students. My name is Mr. Benson. I am your British Literature teacher, obviously. Congrats on getting here because you needed to pass every single AP English class to get here. I recongize most of you considring I always pay attention to who's coming into my class. There is one person I don't recongize." He pointed to the new kid. "What's your name son?"

He looked up and spoke quietly. "Zayn." He looked down again.

"And your last name?" Mr. Benson asked.

"Malik." Zayn said without looking up.

Mr. Benson sighed, he didn't like quiet people. The whole school knew that.

"Zayn Malik I want you to sit in the front." Mr. Benson pointed to the seat right next mine. Shit.

Zayn eyes widened. "Why? I like it here." He crossed his arms across his chest. This wasn't a good start for him.

"Zayn. You either obey me or you get kicked out of this damn class. Now sit down right now next to Julia." Mr. Benson huffed.

Zayn picked up his backpack and angrily yet quietly sat down next to me.

Mr. Benson then said "Zayn you need to learn some things from her. She's good, you're not so good. Learn things from her now."

Zayn looked extremely mad. His jaw clenched and his fists balled up underneath the table. I didn't realize I was starring at hands until he spoke.

"What the fuck are you looking at goodie two shoes." I looked away and we started class.