Hating to Loving: A Zayn Malik Fan Fiction

Chapter Twelve

"You did not. Zayn, what the hell?!"

I didn't know what to do; I was frozen on my spot and I was staring at Zayn; I couldn't think straight and my mind was going crazy! I didn't know what to think because every thought in my head was flying from place to place―I was a mess.

I gulped.

Hard.

"Zendaya?" Zayn softly said, breaking me away from my screwed up thoughts. One thing for sure, my eyes didn't decrease in size. They were still huge as fuck, I was certain. I couldn't stop staring at him. Hell, my eyes wouldn't move at all! What was he trying to do to me? His ex was there, my best friend was there, and the both of them were in love with him and there he is, before me, asking me to be his girlfriend?!

What was wrong with him?!

This has caused shit to turn real, oh fuck.

I triple-blinked. Hell, I blinked like a thousand times before tearing my gaze away from Zayn's painfully, to look at the two other girls standing before us. It didn't take long for me to notice how furious they looked; how murderous their expressions were.

I managed to hide a flinch.

To say I was freaking the fuck out would be an understatement because I swear, I was already ready to run for my goddamn life.

Why me.

Why Zayn.

Why us.

Why them.

Why this?

"Zayn, I'm right here," his ex huffed out in frustration, hooking her arm through his. Remember I told you I was a mess? Yeah, well. I'm no longer a mess―I'm a motherfucking bitch. "Stop asking someone who doesn't deserve to be your girlfriend. Come on, ask me. I'm ready to be."

I crossed my arms over my chest, resting my weight on one of my legs. I stared at her.

"And how is it that you deserve to be his girlfriend?" I retorted, ignoring Julia's flaring facial expression. I pushed on further when Zayn's fucking bitch of an ex shot me her unsuccessful and totally unattractive glare. I was ready to go all apeshit on her but I decided I'd do this well in a matured way.

After all... I'm Zendaya.

And Zendaya isn't like other girls.

Obvious enough, really.

"I don't think you do, though," I shrugged my shoulders, "considering you're so fake, so fake that you make Barbie real. Plus, you should probably wear better perfume rather than those of a few bucks where you can get from the dollar shop. Oh, and please, look better with branded make-up. If you wanna play this game, play it well, do it well, and dress the hell up well."

Well...

Obviously by this time she you could literally see hot steam living her nostrils and her ears. I shot her a smirk in spite of the inner me who was trying to break free, and break out laughing like some mad hobo you'd see on the street; just laughing over something that's not even funny (in this case funny as fuck).

Oh, and guess what. Zayn was laughing with me. That made everything ten times better.

"And what about me?" Julia stepped up, shoving Zayn's ex aside, walking up to me. "Are you going to tell me how much I don't deserve Zayn? That you deserve him the most, oh, that I'm pushy and possessive and a liar and he'll never like me like he does to you? Are you going to tell me that? Are you, now?"