the fallen;; zm {slow updates}

twenty three

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE;;

"Where's your bike?"

I asked him when he led me out of the Lotus Arcade, towards a black range rover that looked rather expensive and shiny new. He unlocked the car and opens the driver's side door while stand infront of the car in awe.

"It's at the workshop." Zayn answers with a shrug. "I wanted a new and cooler engine."

"Right," I say, slowly making my way to the passenger side door. We both got in the car and the smell of leather lingered around the air. "Is this brand new?"

"Apparently, it's six months old. I won it a couple nights ago off a game of pool,"

"Someone bet their car?"

"The guy wasn't too happy about it." He says, igniting the engine before pulling out of the parking space. "So I'm trying to stay clear of dark alleys for awhile,"

Not long after, it started to rain hard outside and the dark from the night settled down around us. Then, he slowed down when we reached a street lighted up with food shops. He parked the car in front of the Subway shop and pulled on the hand brakes.

"We left the arcade to get sandwiches?"

"What did you think we left for?" He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at me with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

I can feel the heat on my cheeks rise. "No—I didn't mean—not like that—"

"I know, Angel. I'm just playing with you,"

I roll my eyes at him and take a look outside the window where it's still raining heavily and the trees were swaying side to side as if they were going to snap at any moment.

I asked, "Um, can we get takeout?"

"Sure," Zayn opened the driver's side door and looked back at me over his shoulders. "Any request?"

"A turkey sandwich, please. But no pickles,"

I could tell I had earned one of his smiles that never quit made it to the surface. I seemed to earn a lot of those. This time, I couldn't figure out what I had said.

"I'll see what I can do." He says before sliding out.

Zayn left the keys in the ignition and the heater pumping. For the first couple of minutes, I replayed our evening so far in my mind. When he showed me the artwork he made and how to play pool. He was not as bad as I thought he would be.

Then, it dawned on me that I was alone in his car. His private space. If I were Zayn and I wanted to hide something highly secretive, I wouldn't hide it in my room, or my school locker, or even a bag pack which he does not carry but if he did, it could be confiscated or searched without warning. I would hide it in my shine black rang rover with the sophisticated alarm system.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and rummaged through the stack of textbooks near my feet, feeling a mysterious smile creep to my mouth at the thought of uncovering one of Zayn's secrets.

I wasn't expecting to find anything in particular; I would have settled for the combination to his locker or his notebook that had all his sketches that he never wanted me to see.

Toeing around old school assignments cluttering the floor mats, I found pennies, an AC/DC tee that smelt just like him and a receipt from a convenient store. Nothing especially surprising or revealing.

I popped open the glove compartment and sifted through the operating manual and other official documents. There was a gleam of chrome and my fingertips brushed metal. I pulled out a steel flashlight and turned it on, but nothing happened.