Oh, That Frat Boy! (H.S.)

Chapter 7: Little White F****d Up Lies

I hide a lot of things. I hide them well. I tell white and black lies. But sometimes, they just seem to catch up to me and bite me in the ass.

I wasn't a virgin. But in my mind, up until this past summer, I thought I still was. I still keep telling myself this, but often times I would lose control. I won't be going into a spiel about how and whom I lost it to. A mistake is a mistake.

The ringing of my phone jolted me awake. I blindly searched for it; upon finding it, I answered.

"'Ello?"

"Hey, it's Sebastian," a pleasant voice sounded on the other end. "Did I wake you?"

I looked around. Zayn lay awake behind me, with his arm wrapped around my waist and his chest pressed to my back, smirking.

Glowering at him, I answered, "No, I was awake. What's up?"

"Excellent," Sebastian said. "You're still coming to the game tonight?"

Fuck. I almost forgot about the game with all that happened last night.

"Yes, I'll be there," I said trying to sound happy, all the while fending off the asshole behind me, who was trying to give me a hickey.

"See you then."

I clicked my phone closed and groaned.

"You can leave now," I deadpanned, looking at Zayn and pointed toward the door. "The exit is right there."

Zayn moved off my bed, pulling his jeans on, frowning.

"What is the matter with you?"

Pulling the covers over me, I sat up. "I'm fucked up."

Zayn raised his brows in confusion.

"I'm supposed to be going on a date with a cute guy today after his football game," I moaned, flopping back onto my bed. "But here I am, with you. I'm such a horrible person."

"Oh shut up," he said, pulling his sweater on. "You'll be dumping the fucker before you know it."

"How would you know?" I probed.

Putting his jacket on, Zayn shrugged. "He's not your type."

My jaw dropped open in indignation. "How the hell is he not my type?! What do you even know about types? You fuck anyone who opens their legs for you!"

"You included," Zayn winked, shoving his phone into his jeans pocket. He sat down on the edge of my bed and looked at me wickedly. "What you do is this: you date the goody two shoes shits like you, you mess around with players, and fuck the bad boys. This guy is an outsider who isn't worth the time."

I flipped him off and crossed my arms, grumbling to myself. Zayn grinned at me, and turned to leave when the door was suddenly opened. Zayn froze, his grin slipping as Katie and to my surprise, Harry, stood in the doorway.

"Harry?" I squeaked, my eyes going wide with shock. He rarely came to my dorm.

My best friend just shrugged and walked past Zayn and sat on her bed, playing with Tori. Harry was stonily looking from Zayn to me, his hands forming fists in order to keep himself in check. He was furious and looked downright intimidating. Zayn backed up, his eyes narrowing. Not knowing what else to do, I hid under my covers.

"Sophie, cut the bullshit and stop hiding," I heard Harry spit out.

I peaked out, pulling the covers down. I was clothed in a t-shirt and shorts; I wasn't fond of sleeping naked.

But I was scared. Scared to look at Harry's face. But when I looked up, he was appraising Zayn. They looked like wolves ready to pounce on each other.