Escapade » z.m

27. If I Get It, Then I Called For This Detention

The glasses fell down on the book once again, and this time, it was Zayn's fault. He wasn't paying attention to anything, let alone remember he had to hold them to keep them upright.

When they fell, he stared at them confusedly before he realised they were his own glasses. If he hadn't realised sooner, his next move would have been looking up at the moonlit sky to check if glasses rained from the heaven above.

No Zayn, he reminded himself, picking the glasses up and cleaning them with the hem of his sleeve. It only rains cats and dogs, not glasses or contacts, for that matter.

Immediately, he told himself to shut it before another ridiculous thought could pop in his tired mind.

"Zayn?" Gemma called. He glanced at her, checking his glasses for any dirt. Gemma was lying against her stomach, chin resting on her folded arms, while her legs drummed on the grass constantly.

It had bothered Zayn at first, he had also wondered, very much aloud that why she wasn't leaving yet, she had given Zayn the coffee, had apologised as well, her work here was done.

"Go back to work, please. I'm staying. Its not you private property, is it?" is what he had received at the end of his question.

Fair point, he had thought and had silently went back to whatever he was doing, thinking arguing with her for the hundredth time on pointless things was a sheer waste of energy and his precious time. For what it's worth, the property could be Gemma's, seeing her father was the one in the administration of the University.

He had rebuked her, but he couldn't deny that after some time, the regular beating of her legs had somehow settled his anxiousness. It was helping him concentrate better, not letting him drift off to sleep.

"Yeah?" He asked, pushing his glasses on the bridge of his nose again. His coffee was finished, and after almost an hour, the effects were all kicking in, but they were doing little to wear off his exhaustion.

She tilted her head to look at him, her cheek now resting on her arms while she still drummed without a pause. "How long are you going to study?"

Her hair were sprawled on her back, big strands falling down by the nape of her neck.

Zayn again felt the need to tie them. He wondered whether she liked them like that, or if it was just the result of some rooted laziness.

Zayn sighed, starting to close all his books. "Look, I told you, you can go. I'm not holding you captive or anything?" He said, stacking his books aside.

"It's my choice." She said, turning away. "You've been studying for so long, is what I'm saying." She explained, spinning around to lay against her back now. She was as unbothered by the dirt as he was.

He wanted to lay down for a while, too.

"You were buried in that book before I came," She nudged at the now stack of books. "And then even after I came, and possibly before before I came too, isn't it still done yet?" She asked, looking at Zayn from the corner of his eyes.

"There are too many chapters I'm yet to read." He told her, his voice defeated, and produced another book from his backpack.

"Dammit." commented Gemma, to which Zayn chuckled.

She sat up, and crawled towards Zayn, sitting beside him, a little away.

"Which subject?"

Zayn glanced at her, then at the book. "It's for history."

Gemma hummed, staring at the book from behind Zayn. He could tell she was interested. After all, it was one of her subjects.

"Why aren't you studying?" Zayn asked suddenly, voicing his thoughts. "You have been missing classes, after all, haven't you?"