Play the Game (A Zayn Malik/Leigh-Anne Pinnock - Zeigh- fanfic)

Chapter 2

The next day, Leigh-Anne’s first lesson was double art. Jade and Perrie had shown her the art block, and then arranged to meet her at early lunch. When Leigh-Anne entered the art room, there were already people sat in groups at different tables. She was reminded of how much of an outsider she was, not recognising anybody to sit with. She was about to head over to an empty table when she heard someone call,

“Hey!”

Leigh-Anne turned around and saw a girl with a ridiculous amount of curly, auburn, gravity-defying hair. In a black Three Day Grace t-shirt knotted around her waist, black high-waisted shorts, black knee-high socks and a pair of New Rock boots, she looked more than a little intimidating. Leigh-Anne approached her shyly.

“Hi.”

“I’m Jesy.” The girl stated. “What’s your name?”

“Leigh-Anne.”

“Your Perrie and Jade’s new recruit, aren’t you?” Jesy asked contemptuously. Her crew sniggered behind her. Leigh-Anne frowned.

“They were the first people to talk to me. Excuse me if I appreciate it when people actually try to be nice. There’s no need to be so patronising.”

Jesy raised an eyebrow. Then she grinned.

“Impressive. Sit with us?” she offered. Leigh-Anne considered her options before conceding and dropping her bag at the foot of a stool that she sat on, next to Jesy.

“So what was your first day like?” Jesy asked. Leigh-Anne shrugged.

“It was cool. Better than I expected.”

“Yeah? How so? Is it a lot different from your old school?”

“You guys actually talk to new people. At my old school new kids had to find their own way.”

Jesy grinned and was about to reply when a young-looking, frizzy brunette entered the room.

“Quiet down, class, and let’s begin. I’m Ms Delaware and I’ll be your art teacher for the next two years.”

Ms Delaware went on to describe the course and Leigh-Anne stopped listening. She observed the class, taking in the faces of the people she would be studying her favourite subject with. Her gaze landed on someone and she fought to withhold a gasp. It was the boy from the library.

Sat alone at the table Leigh-Anne would have been at if Jesy hadn’t called her over, he seemed to be in his own world, hands flying over the page, his expression the same as yesterday. Leigh-Anne found herself dying to at least know his name. She leaned over to Jesy and whispered,

“Who’s that guy?”

Jesy followed Leigh-Anne’s line of sight and replied,

“Oh, that’s Zayn Malik. He joined in year 10.”

“Why is he sitting alone?”

Jesy shrugged.

“He doesn’t really talk to anyone.”

And she left it there, turning back to the game of noughts and crosses she was currently engaged in with one of her friends. Leigh-Anne’s eyes strayed back to Zayn. She didn’t realise she was watching him until he looked up and their eyes met. And, by god, they were beautiful. Leigh-Anne had never seen eyes like his, which sparkled and shone, liquid as melted chocolate, filled with so much emotion and absolutely none at the same time. His full, pink lips seemed marble smooth yet unthinkably rough. His face seemed to Leigh-Anne to be the perfect model of beauty; symmetrical and proportional in all aspects. She could only imagine the joy that would come from having the privilege of attempting to recreate that face on a canvas. It took everything in her to tear her gaze away from his.