He's No Good - Zayn Malik

Chapter 68: Loss

Ok so I realized it was sort of ridiculous to ask for titles when you have no idea what this one is gonna end with lol x)

But since I know what book 2 is gonna be about, I thought about calling it She's No Good (like some of you also suggested) or just He's No Good 2 idk - cause like it might be easier for people to find the story if it's called the same..
What do you think?

Also this might be sort of cheesy but I tried...
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After having sent Zayn a text simply asking what's wrong, I decide I better eat some toast now when it's starting to look like I wont have a ride to school anymore. 

I manage to chew myself through two pieces of my dry toast, leaning against the kitchen counter, when I see Zayn walking hastily towards my house again with a very serious expression on his face. 

Slightly flustered I open the door for him just as he's about to knock, giving him a confused glance. 
- "You ok?" I ask carefully when he doesn't even look me in the eyes, but right past me instead.

- "Yeah," he replies halfheartedly. "I think I left my keys in your room," he says, finally looking at me and blinks, and only now I realize he wants me to get them for him. 

- "You aren't coming back inside?" I ask, but he just stands there on the doorstep with a fucking newspaper tucked under his arm like he wasn't just making out with me on the couch less than 10 minutes ago. What the fuck. 

- "Please Zoe," he says, and something in his voice persuades me, but it doesn't stop me from giving him a raised eyebrow and weird glance when I turn around and hurry upstairs to get the small bundle of keys. 


He's still just standing there when I make it downstairs again, and drop the keys in the hand he's holding out. 
- "Come. I'm dropping you off at school," he takes a step back and spins his keys around his finger, again not looking me in the eyes which is starting to really bother me. 
And we still have 30 minutes before class starts.

- "Aren't you going? Zayn-" 

- "We can talk later, Zoe," he raises his voice slightly, definitely stopping me from asking anymore questions.  

- "Okay?" he ignores my glance again when I go to get my bag and quickly put on a pair of white Converse, Zayn slightly freaking me out, just standing there impatiently tapping his foot like I'm that slow. 

His eyes soften when I throw my bag over my shoulder and pass him through the door, honestly sort of hurt by his sudden rude behaviour, walking a couple of paces ahead of him before he catches up with me, lacing his warm fingers through mine. I just sort of let his cling on to mine and keep walking.

- "I didn't mean to raise my voice," he says, walking next to me and gives me a soft glance and a quick but sweet kiss on the cheek when we reach his car, which is parked outside his mum's house where he left it yesterday.


We drive in silence, since I'm too scared to say anything in case he'll drive off the road or cuss me out or something, and he doesn't say anything either. It's like he's in some state of shock.

- "Where are you going?" I ask, as he pulls in in front of the school and steps on the break rather hard, as nothing indicates that he is coming with me. He's seriously freaking me out.

What if it's something with the police? Could he be in trouble?

- "Home, I'm-" he runs his fingers through his hair and doesn't finish the sentense. He looks really out of it.

- "What's going on, Zayn? You're scaring me," I say, glancing at him for long enough until he locks eyes with me. "Is it something with the police? You can tell me," 

- "No, it's-," he cuts off his sentence again and sighs, pulling his hand through his hair once again a little faster. "Read this. Page 3," he hesitantly places the folded news paper he's been carrying around on my lap and chews on his bottom lip, scrutinizing my face while I let my eyes travel across the headline of the article and the picture of a man who looks a whole lot like the one next to me. 

- "It's your dad," I frown and looks up at Zayn who's staring blankly out of the windshield before reading on. 

- "My mum heard it yesterday," he says monotonically, completely drained from emotion just like his face when he looks at me. "He died in the hospital,". 

I don't even know what to say other than look at the picture of his dad again. Zayn looks a lot like his mum, but it's obvious where he has got his beautiful Middle Eastern features from.