★CHAPTER FOUR★

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LEIA

On uneven footing, I quickly stuffed my clothes into my backpack and stared down at myself, sighing. The shalwar looked weird with my plain white Nike sneakers and the knee-length shirt was a little too girded around my waist.

Classes hadn't even started yet and I was already done with life.

Keeping my head down, partly because I felt uncomfortable with an uncovered face and partly because I didn't want people to recognize me, I walked to the classroom the principal had assigned to me.

The bell had rung almost half an hour ago and nothing could be suckier than being the last one to walk into class and interrupt the teacher's lecture. But at least with the teacher, nobody would be able to make comments.

I hoped.

With my eyes closed, I just threw the literature's class door open.

"Yes, Miss . . .?" Ms. Ayesha looked at me questioningly.

I cleared my throat. "Uh . . ." I stepped in, closing the door behind me.

A hush fell over the entire class. I heard a few gasps and then someone from behind said loudly, "Shit, man, is that Leia Liman? The girl whose Mom was a pros––"

"Shh," His friend had a little more manners.

But everyone heard it. And if someone did not know––which was impossible––this guy in the back had just hinted to it.

My mother was a prostitute.

Get over it.

I knew I had.

"The heck?" Anas stared at me in disbelief, his eyes narrowed. He then turned his gaze to the right. I didn't have to know who he was looking at. I already knew. "Z, you knew about that?"
There was silence. And then, "Do I look like I care about scholarship trash?"

Remember that story about how I entered this school? Well, there. Zayn just said it.

The teacher looked between the two of us and sighed. "Miss Liman, I'm afraid you'll have to take the seat in the back." When she just saw me standing like a fool, she said, "Please hurry up. I have to continue my lecture."

I licked my lips, cheeks heating as I started hopping up the steps. I was just about to take another step when I heard my name called from the very end.

I looked up and my gaze locked with Zayn's. His eyes were a constant stormy charcoal, lit up with an intensity I wasn't sure I could take for long.

Without looking at the guy on his side, he gestured for him to get up. The poor kid with round glasses immediately scurried up, and I didn't pay him enough attention to see where he got seated.

Zayn patted the desk of the chair next to him, eyes never leaving mine. "Aren't you going to take a seat, Lee?"

Crap, he never called me Lee unless he was very, very pissed off.

"I . . . Uh . . ." I was starting to sound like I'd never talked to a guy before. Well, in my defence, no guy I'd ever spoken to was this intense.

I could've sworn electric currents were rolling off of him in waves. They were some seriously angry currents too.

"We don't have all day, Miss Liman." The teacher was getting annoyed.

I gulped and with my head ducked, I slowly went up and sat on the wooden chair. From the right side of the chair, a small rectangular tablet acted as a desk and the footrest handle groaned when I lay my feet on it.

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