Bad Meets Good

That's The Sweetest

As soon as the number three exits from Zayn’s mouth, he flings the door open quickly and it feels like my whole body is being hulled forward as if I was being dragged by leash.  Zayn’s like one of those hyperactive dogs whose sees something in the far distance and chases after it while I’m the disheveled owner whose about fall face forward any second. My feet stumble over one another carelessly for a couple of moments before I pull myself together and start running efficiently; quick fast strides with each foot moving in perfect synchronization with one another effortlessly.

Having my hair blind my vision momentarily, I glance back around and regret it the second I do so. From a distance, I could see her looking over at us with a face filled with different expression—anger, confusion, guilt—her jaw was dropped. She ends her phone call and we both lock gazes for what feels like forever before she speed walks in the opposite direction. I eye her in concentration as she makes a left turn in confusion. What could possibly be down that hall?

I bit down on my bottom lip and turn my face back forward. We’re mere feet away from the stair cases before it finally clicks in my head.

The elevator.

Zayn’s arm reaches forward and pushes the door open and I follow behind swiftly. My feet run the stairs so fast that I swear any second from now I’ll fall down them.

“Oh shit—Zayn! She’s going to the elevator!” I semi shout at him. She’s probably already inside of it right now—frantic and shifting from foot to foot—as she waits for it to open. Once she reaches the first floor it will open up a couple of doors down from the main office.

“Where’s the closest exit? To the right or left?” he questions quickly, moments before we reach the end of the stair case.

“To the right and around the corner” I answer.

Both of our arms extend out and burst through the set of doors and we make a sharp right and start running down the hall. The only noises flooding the deserted halls are our feet making steady contact with the floorboard beneath us. I’ve never seen the hallways so barren before but then again, it is Friday and most people have plans to do and others just want to get out of this shithole as fast as they can. I’m with the first group of people.

We make a turn around the corner and stop dead in our tracks when one of the classroom doors opens revealing two security guards who look dead at us with scowls on their face. The taller heavy set one who looks like he’s in his late-thirties mouths something to the other one beside him before looking back at us. Both of them start making their way over towards us with quick and heavy footsteps and we reciprocate by backing up. The shorter one parts his lips open slightly to tell us something and we both turn around and start sprinting back down the hallway.

“Hey! You two stop right there!” one of them shouts from behind us and I can hear the annoyance laced in his voice.

Zayn shifts us over towards the classroom lined across the left side of the hallway. His hands franticly start twisting the doorknobs that we come across while running.

“Fuck!” he grumbles when one of the doors doesn’t open. “Watch my back real quick.” He says and I nod my head while removing my hand from his grip. His hands dig into his pockets for a few seconds before he retrieves a paperclip from out of it.  His fingers quickly unravel one of the sides before straightening it out.

I look away from him and towards the end of the hall in which the two security guards just make it around the corner. I bite my lip nervously and turn back to Zayn who’s fixated on the door that he’s picking. His lips are pursed together and his eyebrows are knitted together in concentration when I tap his shoulder.