Americano

(3) ZAYN

ZAYN's POV

I groaned when I realized I was looking at an idiot who couldn't understand when someone couldn't give a fuck about what they're whining about. The bitch was getting on my nerves, talking shit about shit.

"Yo, thot of the century, is you done yet?" She stopped immediately and her ice cold eyes wavered around my brown ones. I glared back at her, knowing she wouldn't do shit. Bitch was complaining about how I was looking at her ass, uh I'm a dude I was born with that right. Why'd she wear that tight ass skirt if she didn't want my eyes on her behind, anyways? Squalie.

"Excuse me? You're ridiculous!" She turned on her heel and walked away. I spat on her back and I guess she didn't feel it because she continued to walk away.

"Zayn, that was some shit you pulled with that girl. Good looks, coz. Good looks." My friend, Jason, came up to me and gave me a slap on my back.

The bell rang, signaling the start of first period. Jason waved at me and headed in the direction of his first class. I couldn't believe it. Damn, my friends actually fucking care about going to school. I shook it off, heading to the bathroom to smoke a joint and to masturbate the shit out of my balls.

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You know what? Why am I even in this shithole? I'm bouta dip. Lemme just go home. Wait... Nah, I'mma go to tha Deli first. The security guards were the easiest to sneak by, being that their eyes are always too focused on their damned phones to notice anything around them. That's how I'm able to get by most of the time.

I jumped down from the stairs that led to the doors of the school. The place smelt beautiful, a lot of marajuana and booze, that's the shit I was on since I could barely kick in my mom's belly. I entered the Deli after 2 minutes of walking, it wasn't far from the school.

"Yo what up, Zayn," I nodded at the clerk who was familiar with my presence.

"Nothing much. How 'bout those bitches you told me you were fucking, is you still fucking 'em?" That was my way of asking for his well being.

"Still fucking. The wife is starting to notice, though" He flashes me a grin. I hop over the counter and head over to the sandwich section, ignoring the worker and proceeding to making my own sandwich. I felt a buzz from my butt pocket when I had the hero warming.

It was a text from Jason; where you at bro, the teach 'bout to call your parents. Wish u th best of luck wen ya get hme

I ignored it, the real question to ask was, when was I goin' get home?

"Ey yo ma, lemme get ur numba," I yell at the girl who walked in with a friend beside her. The ugly one pointed at her self and I shook my head, ew, no. "Yo, cutie, you goin' give me brain or nah?" She giggled as if I was fucking joking. Alright bitch, you da shit that's missing out.

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I didn't go home straight away, the sorry excuse for a mother, might be there. Damn, I didn't feel like ripping out her ass now. Instead I stayed seated on the top of the staircase of the apartment building in which I lived in. It was like living in a fucking sewer. Fuck, a sewer would be better than this shithole I call a home.

I gave up on thinking of a believable lie for why I didn't go to all my classes. Who da fuck cares? It's not like my mom goin' beat me. Bitch better not touch me. I felt around my pocket and pulled a weed stick out, thanking the dickhead that put it in there.