Melissa sighed and looked around her; she didn’t understand why there were so many people rushing. Why couldn’t they just take a deep breath and enjoy the life they’d been given? She knew that some people weren’t exactly…kind to the things they’d been given, but their life was something that should’ve been cherished.
“Excuse me,” she heard a voice say beside her; Melissa quickly turned her head and raised an eyebrow. She saw a boy, about 3 years older than she was sitting beside her.
“Yes?” She asked, not being affected by him—no matter how attractive she thought he was. And there wasn’t any denying it, he was extremely sexy. There was one thing she knew though—sexy guys meant trouble, especially ones that looked like they were way older than her.
“I don’t exactly know where I’m at,” He said, chuckling. It was then that she noticed the English accent. Melissa frowned; she didn’t want to associate with a stranger, but she wasn’t a heartless person.
“Well, where do you need to be?” She asked him, standing up. The boy stood up and pulled out his phone. He bit his lip in concentration; Melissa had to force herself to take away any thoughts of how much she wanted to know what his lips felt like against hers.
“Um, the Greensboro Coliseum?” He said although it sounded like a question. Melissa raised an eyebrow again and took a closer look at the boy. He was wearing sunglasses, she realized, and he had a hat on like he was hiding. Melissa thought hard about who he could be, and then she figured it out.
“Zayn Malik.” Zayn looked at her, startled. Melissa chuckled and rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry, pretty boy; I won’t tell your secret. I’m not that big of a fan anyway, my sister is,” She thought about it for a moment, “And my mom, my best friend and just about everyone I know.” Zayn nodded slightly, making it seem like he didn’t believe her.
“Right, so, Greensboro Coliseum,” he began, “Where is it?” Melissa sighed heavily running a hand through her dark brown hair.
“Look, I wouldn’t care if you were President Obama himself, don’t talk to me like I’m some peasant, alright?” Zayn laughed a bit at her snippy tone. She rolled her eyes and raised an eyebrow. “As of right now I’m your only ride over there, so I think you should stop laughing.” Zayn quickly shut up and nodded.
“Anyway, follow me.” Melissa began walking towards her car and assumed Zayn was following; she looked behind her and noticed that he was.
“So, you know my name; what’s yours?” Zayn asked, trying to break the silence as they got into her car. Melissa looked over to him and nodded.
“That’s true, but I’m also not an international pop-star,” she said, “Besides, you honestly don’t need to know my name.” Zayn looked at her strangely.
“And why do you say that?" He asked Melissa, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged as they pulled into the Coliseum parking lot. She parked, turned off the car and got out of it; she had a couple of things to take care of. Melissa turned around from closing her door and was face-to-face with Zayn; his hands went up against the car, trapping her. “Why. Not?” He asked her, separating each word.
“Because we won’t see each other again after this, so why bother with formalities?” She said, stating it as a question. Melissa wasn’t about to be pushed around by some pop-star. Zayn sighed and looked her dead in the eyes.
“What if I want to see you again?” He asked her, an intense look in his eyes. Melissa swallowed and thought carefully about what to say next.