I Would (Ziall)

Chapter 15-Zayn

"Do I have to sing that song?" Zayn whined. Niall bit his lip to stop himself laughing. Leaning closer to the door, Niall heard Mr. Cowell speak,

"Yes Zayn. You chose from the hat and you got what you got."

"Please! I'll sing anything else! Not that! It makes me sound like a sissy," Zayn pleaded.

"Well Mr. Malik, your recent actions are also destroying your reputation.'

A loud bang caused Niall to jump back in surprise.

"You think I care about my reputation?! Not once have I thought I about it! But since you obviously want me to, I will! I'm not singing that stupid song,"

"Zayn, you know that's not what I meant. Please think about what you're about to do before you..." Mr. Cowell was cut off by Zayn slamming the door open. Niall jumped back and bit his lip once again.

"Stop biting your lip or I'll have to do it for you," Zayn growled as he passed.

The corridor instantly separated, people gathering on the two sides allowing a clear path for Zayn. They had grown used to the vulnerable Zayn, accepted it even. But now it was gone. A look of pure fear on everyone's face; Zayn Malik was back.

The following days the school was silent. Everyone was too scared to do anything. They kept their heads down and worked not as much a mumble exchanged between the students; much to the surprise of the teachers. Although, even they were on edge. Nobody knew when it was going to happen but they knew it would. Nobody could relax. Not when they were anxious about the wrath of Zayn Malik.

Zayn Malik paced his dorm room. Voicing ideas loudly to the empty room. Jake's bed was neatly made and his packed bags were resting on it. No one knew if Jake was allowed to stay at Pencey Prep but they all prayed he would. Jake knew Zayn Malik. He knew which buttons to press that made him crumple to the ground.

Students could tolerate Jack Mitchell and his dick ways but Zayn Malik was always a person to fear. With his mysterious attitude and leather jacket; everyone automatically assumed the worst. Nobody wanted to get to know the quiet boy at the back of class who was always scribbling in his notebook.

"Probably plotting ways to kill us," his fellow classmates thought.

At only eleven years old, Zayn Malik was judged by everyone.

"He's going to cause trouble," the teachers decided after five minutes. They were right. Little did they know, that the trouble he caused was a cry for help. After all, he was only a troubled boy who craved the right kind of attention but always attracted the worst.

Zayn stopped pacing and glanced around his half of the dorm. The posters taped to the wall were slipping. The pyramid of books at the end of his bed was awfully lopsided.

The pile of books, Zayn thought, is kind of like my life, it's barely stable and one more wrong move will make it crash to the ground. The bell signalling the start of lunch echoed through the deadly quiet air. Zayn knew what he had to do. He wasn't happy about it. But people couldn't start to like him now. Not so close to the end of school. They were all hypocrites. Scared of Zayn until someone who could unravel Zayn came along. No, Zayn wasn't happy with what he was about to do. But he couldn't let people in. He refused to. And he wouldn't let them. By any means necessary.

Six-year-old Zayn watched as his mother drove away through the window. He didn't understand why his mother was bringing him to an overnight summer camp in the middle of spring. He also didn't understand why he still had to attend school unlike at his other summer camps. Zayn picked up his bag and walked to the reception desk. He asked politely for Ellen, as his mother instructed him to do. Ellen sent him the same pitiful look that the taxi man had given him.