Accepted[Zianourry AU]

Chapter 1: The New Arrival

Chapter 1. The New Arrival

The drive to Birmingham High School was both a short and long affair. It was only a couple miles from where Zayn Malik and his parents lived, yet, as his father drove down the livening street, it felt as if he had spent eternity staring outside of the teary-stained window. 

The sky was cloudy and gray with fickle rain showers. Zayn missed the warm, hot days he had back in his hometown. Ever since his father was promoted to the senior manager position of a high-ranked, and growing construction company in this booming metropolis, Zayn had spent countless days detesting the move and his new, muggy surroundings. 

Even more so then the weather, Zayn was far more irate about a particular, inevitable fact he had been moping about for days since he heard the news. Today was his first day of school. If it was any consolation to his old school, he knew the students there would be the same inhuman, morose, icy and narcissistic bunch of brats that ever roamed England. His old classmates looked down on him for being Muslim, and for being British. They called him names like ‘mutt’ and ‘half-breed’ for having a foreign father and an English mother. He had always heard names the kids called his father. Pervert. Assaulter. Rapist. Everyone said he had ‘sunk his teeth into a true British woman and made her damned to hell. The spawn of the pair would be a demon like his father. Damn them all for tainting the true blood of England!’ 

That’s when Zayn fought back. When they would start criticizing his parents. His father was none of those but a kind, hard-working man that lived a simple life taking care of his wife and son. As for his mother, she was a ball of energy full with happiness, laughter and love. 

In all fairness, it was his mother who wooed his father, or so he had heard. They fell in love at Uni and they’ve been inseparable since. To this day, Zayn could still see the love they have for each other as if they were back at university, embracing their first bloom of romance. And even in their little bubble, they ignored the ignorant people that seemed to follow wherever they’d go, saying things like ‘Your people attacked America! Who’s to say you won’t be attacking our homeland next? Beat him! Kick him till he’s dead! Make sure he knows what true royalty looks like and to prove he’s just a filthy spawn form a damned English lady!”

There was still a small scar on Zayn cheek from his last fight, not to mention a handful of bruises scattered across his arms, legs, chest and back that were still in their healing phase. Lucky for him, the visible bruises on his arms were covered in tattoos, and the ones on his legs were easily hidden with a good pair of jeans. 

Whenever confronted about the bruises and cuts, however, Zayn always told his parents he had got them from playing an intense game of football with the boys, and they had just gotten taken away in the heat of the moment. It was all in good fun. 

At least, fun for them, Zayn grimaced to himself. 

The car came to a sudden halt and Zayn realized from the large courtyard and enormous three-story buildings scattered across the area, he was on school campus. He turned to his father with a warily expression. 

“Do I have to?” he groaned, looking into his father’s dark eyes, an exact replica of his own. Apart from their eyes, Zayn had inherited his looks from his mother. He had perfect bone structure, silky, soft tan skin and perfect, straight hair which he had dyed a blonde streak through the front and normally styled back into a quiff. 

“It’ll be fine, son,” his father, Yasir assured. “Have a good day. Mom will pick you right up after school. You may never know.” His father placed a reassuring hand in the back of Zayn’s neck, patting it softly. “You just might like it here.”