Too Much To Ask.zh.

T W O

     Two - Bitchy Teachers and crying into knees.

       Zayn Malik was known to be an asshole, a player and a total eye crosser for most of the teachers and adults around him. Maybe it was the way he was raised with his parents barely being home and the attention that he seek was never at home, so he tried to get it at school. He loved the attention, the way the teachers would always be wary when he is around and watches him like a hawk, it never failed to entertain him and his group of friend when the said teachers get mad because of something reckless he said or did. It was mostly his heavenly-gifted looks, the smolder that always seemed to be present on his face, his eyes and the jawline that could cut through any diamond was actually what got people screwed and smitten once he saw him. And Zayn always says that he wasn't at fault for the hearts of the girls - and sometimes boys' - he had broken. He knew that they wanted him so who's doing a real favor here?

Zayn smirked at the thought as he read through the passage on his English textbook, he could hear the giggles of the girls nearby, and he looked up to them, sending a coy wink in their direction. He swore he saw one of them blush scarlet and the raven haired boy was sure he had found his next target to get laid that night. His attention flickered back to the task at hand given by their English teacher and he returned back to reading it, that is until the teacher took that as a right opportunity to yell at him. Just the right time, Zayn thought, rolling his eyes not so subtly as he looked up at the teacher. English was he favorite subject but the teacher, he might have to rethink if the teacher is his favorite (or if he even have a favorite teacher because everyone seemed to be hating on him since he landed a foot in this school, it's not his fault that he's hot and cool.

"Zayn Malik! You could at least pay attention?" The teacher's yell sounded through the class and Zayn grimaced at the face of his teacher - who allowed such hideous creature to live on earth anyways? "I was, for a fact, paying attention Mrs - " Zayn sighed when the teacher cut him off, "You and I both know that it's nonsense, Mr Malik." The teacher snapped and the blue eye shadow littered on her eyes make Zayn grimaced in distaste, and he wanted throw a pile of his sister's make up tutorials at her in any hopes of making her taste in fashion better and not look like a lady bug spray painted on. Who does her make up, anyways? Red lipstick and blue eye shadow, and of course, sure - the teacher have a nice sense of fashion. Not really.

"You never paid attention in my classes for crying out loud, Malik!" The teacher bantered on about the wrong doings of Zayn - which was none because he always tried to get the best marks in all his subjects, especially English. Right now everyone in the room is staring, some laughing and others just staring because this wasn't the first time something like this had ever happened. Andy Samuels stifled a laugh to keep himself from laughing out loud in front of the whole class who claimed he was the most serious one out of the trio - he's really not, none of them are. And the said boy sat with a straight face even though deep inside he was just dying to laugh too. Zayn sighed, shrugged and glanced up at the teacher, he was literally waving the white flag now, seeing that he won't get anywhere arguing about the teacher about the attention he give in class. He could just get out of there, and nobody would even stop him so that's what he did, he shoved his textbook and notebook into his bag, getting up to leave the damned classroom before someone got hurt.

"That's just how much of an impulsive child you are Mr. Malik." The teacher continued, eyes following Zayn's every movement, "I can bet that your own good for nothing father taught you nothing - " That's when Zayn threw the book down onto the floor, eyes shooting daggers at the teacher and if looks could kill, the teacher would've dropped dead by now. His eyes teared up a little at the mention of his father, and the teacher continued glaring, muttering something low in her throat about being a cry baby and that's when Zayn snapped completely because he tried, he tried everything in his power to make her like him, see him as a student. He even bought her cookies, which now he realized that he should have poisoned them. The teacher's scolds were just drawn out sounds when all Zayn saw was red, he walked to the teacher's desk, flipping it over and kicking around everything that had fallen and he glared at the now terrified teacher. "Don't ever, ever, bring up about my fucking father." with that said, he stormed out of the English room, slamming the door loudly in the process. Andy and Liam and probably the rest of the class were left in utter shock, sure they had seen Zayn mad before but he was never this mad. The teacher coughed awkwardly, stepping over her fallen objects on the ground and looked up at the class, "Shall we continue?" She spoke, her voice shaky.

Zayn let out a ragged sigh as he sat down on the sofa of the old common room. It was dark in there and he hadn't expected anyone to be there, he needed a place he could be alone and let his emotions go wild without bottling them in. The old common room was what the school build for the students to have a nice, fun time for their class breaks but instead of actually having fun during breaks, they snick in during class sections so it was closed down. It consists if nothing but a tall shelf, an old sofa and some of the things the school stored in. While being seated in the empty room, Zayn looked around and he felt a sob coming up his throat, his brain telling him to let it all out and Zayn bit his trembling lips letting a tear fall but not more than that even though he desperately needed to cry. It hurts when his father is brought up in a conversation, because he was at fault and he blames himself for everything that had happened. If he had been more careful then nothing would have had happened.

He was thirteen when it happened, he never had a clue that going out for a midnight ride could lead to anything dangerous. So that night, he woke his father up, begged for a ride around town so he could ease his mind and fall asleep. And Yaser being the man of the family, he agreed after much persuasion. He took his thirteen year old son out for a ride on that rainy night, it went fine with the two males laughing and having fun until the loud screech of tires was the last thing Zayn heard. Before he knew it, and could register it, his father was being carried into the ambulance and the preteen was crying in his mother's arms. He remembered being in the hospital in just his baggy sweater and pajama bottoms. He noticed the look that the nurse gave him that day, it was just stamped into his mind like a pleasant memory and even four years later he can't still forget about it. But he didn't need those looks, he didn't need pity. His family was a crying mess at the funeral while he couldn't bring himself to do so, staring at his polished shoes and wishing that if he could turn back time he would make everything better again.

Zayn hugged his knees, giving in to his thoughts of wanting to cry and he did cried, soft sobs flooding through the room like he was the last of it, and for a Niall Horan sitting on top of the shelf, it was such a rare sight to see.