http://www.polyvore.com/would/set?id=81366935 -----> Ayesha's hotel outfit
“Zayn! Downstairs!”
“Coming!”
I checked myself in the mirror once more. Perfect.
“Hurry up!”
I slouched down the stairs to see my family sat around the table eating. I walked straight up to the counter and grabbed a slice of toast.
“Thank you for joining us, son. You gonna sit down?”
“I’m running late as it is. I’m just gonna head off.”
“You alright this morning?”
“I’m fine. See you all later.”
I grabbed my bag and slammed the door shut. I felt cold drops on my neck and groaned. The perfect start to a perfect day. I trudged on, turning the corner of my street to see school sitting there, leering at me. Oh, good(!)
“Lisa!”
I felt a shove as a guy walked past me to catch up with his girlfriend. I left before the tonsil tennis began. I didn’t really need to look at that. Ever. I walked up to my locker, almost ripping the door off the hinges.
“And how is Zayn this merry morning?”
“Jesse?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
Jesse smiled at me before opening his own locker.
“I saw Callie this morning. She smiled at me.”
“You do know she was probably smiling at something behind you?”
“What if she does like me?”
“There is no way in hell.”
“Aww, come on! You won’t even just talk to her about it?”
“I’m not setting you up with my cousin. And that is final.”
There was no way in hell I was setting him up with her. I knew she liked him back and I wasn’t gonna have my best mate getting a girlfriend before I did. Not even fair.
“You’re just mean.”
“Get lost, loser.”
I turned round to see Mick walking down with her on his arm. Ayesha. He didn’t deserve her. I didn’t even deserve her. But I sure as hell wanted her.
“Don’t get any ideas, Zayn. At least Callie knows I exist.”
“She knows I exist. She’s in my English class.”
“She knows there is someone on the planet called Zayn. And that Zayn happens to also be pretty good at English, like her. That’s it. What have you got first?”
“English.”
“Ah, good luck with that.”
“What have you got?”
“History. I swear, Mr. Treeger’s trying to kill me off.”
“How much homework did he give you?”
“Read the first three chapters and make notes on all of them.”
“How much did he give the rest of the class?”
“Fill in a quiz he gave them. Apparently they all learn whilst I’m busy staring out of the window. I do try to learn but his voice is so boring. I mean. I thought people didn’t actually have monotone voices. I thought it was just a fictional thing.”
