One Night (Book 1) - Zayn Malik

Chapter 22

(A/N: I totally forgot to ask how your new year is going! :) I hope it's going well! Can't believe it's 2014! I'll be graduating soon! Agh!)

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Waking up for my psychology class I get dressed wondering if he'll be there. I pull on a royal blue top and a pair of light black jeans.

Brushing my soft waves out and leaving the dorm I make my way across campus. The air is warm - surprising since autumn is righ around the corner.

Sitting in psychology I watch everyone file in, trying not to make it noticeable I was watching the door. Class begins and he's a no show again.

Three days of not showing up to class? I'm officially worried, I know I shouldn't be, Zayn and I weren't even friends, but I felt my stomach churning with possible ideas of why he wasn't in class.

"You're late, let's not make tardiness a usual thing." Mr. Collins speaks, I feel my heart race and my eyes travel to him.

My mouth opens at the sight of him. He looks exhausted. There are bags under his eyes, his facial hair is noticeable - nothing too bad but noticeable, and although he looks handsome he also looks very tired.

He walks into class sitting next to the empty desk to me. Mr. Collins goes back to lecturing and I stare at him.

His eyes are half closed as he stares towards the front of the classroom. He doesn't even seem like he's here, not mentally at least.

Pulling my hair behind my ear, I slowly force myself pay attention to Mr. Collins. I can't focus on what he's saying though.

I had expected him to come in the classroom, cocky about some vacation he took or about how hard he partied after our date. But he just looked exhausted.

Glancing at Zayn again, my eyes travel to his knuckles. My eyes narrow as I notice they're scabbed. He must have punched something, though the wounds look like they made contact with a person rather than an object.

A fight. I remember cleaning up his wound the first night. I let out a light sigh as I think of what to make of his healing knuckles.

I feel his eyes on me the moment I sigh though, hesistantly I look up to meet them. His look isn't what I expect - to be honest I'm not sure what I expected but they're angry and accusing.

I look to the front in a swift motion, trying to mind my own business once again. Though I can't focus on the lecture, knowing he was in a fight.

My heart is fighting my brain, I shouldn't care what he does, I shouldn't... but his hand... His hand was wounded, he had been in a fight.

Who had he been fighting? Was that why he wasn't in class? Was he in trouble? Did he hurt someone and had to deal with that? Too many questions run through my head for me to pay attention the rest of class. When class ends I follow him outside.

"Zayn." I calmly call to him. He slows his pace, glancing at me as I catch up to him. "What happened?" I ask, the level concern of my voice shocks me and it shocks him as well.

"Nothing." He mumbles after shaking off my worried tone, not looking at me.

"Who did you fight?" my voice is small but demanding. He doesn't answer but he begins to walk away. I keep an easy pace with him. "Who did you fight?" I ask again with a more authoritative tone.

"It was just a stupid fight." He shrugs.

Making it seem like him not being in class for two days because of a fight was an excuse - or was there another reaosn he wasn't in class? I'm too confused to focus on why he hadn't been in class right now.