Rogue (Zayn Malik)

Chapter 9: Thinking about reforms

Things around my attic room got wrapped up sooner than I expected them to, leaving behind an empty space. From a young age I had the habit of cluttering things because it was always hard to let go. Be it an old pair of jeans or a couple of pages of notes from grade eight, I could never just throw all the stuff away. And Zayn kept pointing it out for me, gladly. Saying I was a messy person.

"It's three hours until the truck arrives."

He glanced at his watch sitting down on the bed and feasting on the deli sub he got us both twenty minutes ago. The job was tiring but accomplished.

"I know. Head home if you want to, I'll manage the loading and unloading."

There were only about seven small boxes that I could pick easily and five other big boxes marked with a fragile tag, although there wasn't anything remotely delicate inside. I could load them into the truck and have them delivered to my new shared apartment myself.

"I was thinking something else."

"What?"

I scrunched up the wrap our subs came in, as he finished at the same time I did. Getting them in a brown bag to dispose off, we both stood up.

"I realised I did have a few extra bucks after paying all the fines last night. Do you want to go the mall? I could buy you something."

It took a while for me to let that sink in.

"See, this is why I fear you might be plotting my death." I couldn't help myself letting that one out. Zayn freed himself of all the nervousness that he had built up in the air around us by talking about him repaying me. "You really don't have to. It's okay."

"I know. But I want to. Please?"

"No, Zayn. You helped me clean all this up. And that was a lot of money of money you spent-"

"Please?"

He gave me a little girl's innocent look that I just couldn't resist. Even though letting him pay for me would be against my principles.

"Fine." I said after twenty minutes.

I did not agree that easily though. It took a lot of pleadings from his side and many legitimate arguments from mine but we met halfway, or more like on his end. And drove to the mall. I even insisted we tried the outlets first but he had made the decision already.

***

"Hi. What are you looking for today?" A young, younger than me, teenage girl came around to help us in the first store we entered, which happened to the closest Macy's. I concluded it must be because of my company's dashing looks that she was bumbling with excitement to help us. Seriously, her face tone matched the red coloured t-shirt she wore with her name tag. I have never seen a worker this happy anywhere, let alone in a store where each shift is of six hours.

"I don't know. Something fancy maybe. Huh, Anya?"

He was glancing around oblivious to this girl's attention on him. He still had the bandana wrapped around his head to tame his dishevelled hair. It was probably that accessory and his diamond stud that held the girls interest in him.

"Yeah."

She scurried off in a direction that maybe led to the back of the store and pointed at where all the evening dresses were on display. Too posh for my liking, I guess.

"I like this one."

He pointed at the first dress he laid his eyes on. It was a pretty pastel blue shade with a crochet fabric skirt of BCBG. Very in. Very classy. Only not very-me. It had a cut, to the end of my spine, in the back. I didn't like that too-much-skin-show-kind.