Incomprehensible [Zayn]

04 | Sceptical

IT PROBABLY SHOULD have unnerved me more to be living across from Zayn. As Liam and I had established, making me uncomfortable surely wasn't his intention. What reason would he have to do such a thing? Then again, how many other students had been so forward and then magically produced an insect from the palm of their hand? The element of creepiness was definitely there and with Zayn being my neighbour, God knows how many more butterflies would be flying about. 

No, I thought firmly. I won't let him get to me. It's nothing, you're overthinking the whole thing.

Perhaps instead of dwelling on it, I could focus on befriending him? Turn a new leaf, as they say. He'd apologised at the end of the day and with us as class mates - and me as his unofficial tour guide thanks to Mrs Harris - it's not like we could avoid each other. 

That's when I set myself a challenge - to find out Zayn's secret. Through becoming more acquainted, hopefully that would shed some light on how he'd achieved his magic trick. Or mind trick as he had interjected. Despite the little voice in my head telling me to leave it, my nosiness just got the better of me. Whatever it was about Zayn that I couldn't quite put my finger on was about to become my new homework.

I bundled all of my school work together and slid it under the bed beside all of the useful notes I had accumulated over the years. There were several boxes of old school work that my mother had insisted I hold on to in case it proved to be useful again later down the line. She couldn't have been more right. Kate had even found my stash useful when she needed to cram for a test she hadn't bothered to revise for.

I sighed and fell back against the mattress. I was exhausted and just as my eyes began to close, a bang from downstairs disturbed any plans I had of a nap. 

Stupid brother, I thought as I heard the fridge being raided. Ian wasn't subtle though he'd argue that he was. I'd overheard the same thing from some of the teachers, complaining that he was the class clown and just a plain nuisance. My parents had called him a devil once but what fifteen year old wasn't? It was fair to say that we were like chalk and cheese. 

I listened until Ian padded up the stairs and across the hall to his room. I rolled my eyes before I stood up and made my way towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. Just before I reached the door, a light caught my eye and I glanced over at the house across the street.

Zayn's silhouette was recognisable through the thin curtains, his posture and hair the giveaway. I wondered if he lived with his parents though there had been no sign of anyone other than him when the moving vans had rolled up that afternoon. Did he live alone? 

I found myself still staring as he pulled his shirt up, over his head and tossed it aside. I was suddenly thankful for the curtain. Mortified wouldn't even begin to describe how I'd feel if he'd turned and found me ogling at him from across the street. If the tables were turned, I'd certainly not be happy to find someone watching me undress.

I thought back to Zayn's tattoos. He'd mentioned having a lot more than the ones that covered his arms and hands. I wondered where else he had been inked?

Oh my God, I thought. I'm the creep now.

I rubbed at my eyes, and quickly turned from the window.

I took a quick shower and tugged on my pyjamas before fashioning a towel into a not-so-functional turban; my hair tumbled out in all directions after only a few moments. Marielle was the one who knew all about the beauty hacks and the most up to date way to apply body lotion. I'd have to ask her to try out some methods of taming my hair.

My bed had never looked more inviting and I happily fell upon it, letting my sore body be enveloped by the soft duvet.

There was a creak in the hall way.