Secrets | Zayn Malik

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A/N: please play the YouTube video on the right while you're reading this chapter. & if you're on a mobile device, then the song is called, "do I wanna know" by the arctic monkeys. Fits the feeling of this chapter. xo

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september 23:

What the hell?

I stood there, dumbfounded, my eyes blinking about a hundred times.

He, Zayn stared at me, his breathing still heavy though it was obvious he was trying to tone it back down to normal.

He gave me two seconds. Those seconds ticked by and he turned away from me, walking in whatever direction he was walking before.

And I did what I usually did. I stared after him; watched as he dug his hands into the pockets of his tight ass jeans and breathed out, a gray trail of warmth leaving my lips.

And then I wondered, why am I always the one staring after him as he walks off? Why am I the one who's actually trying? Why do I even care?

Why is it me that always gets left alone?

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september 25:

No okay. Screw this.

Screw trying to talk to him. God, God, screw Zayn Malik himself. Not literally, of course.

Mel had informed me that I began to curse a lot more than usual, and I did actually notice, because one she brought it up, and two my mind drifted back to that time when Zayn even told me I had exceeded the use of the word "fuck". So I was trying my best not to curse as much. Which Gina bet twenty dollars and a free coffee at the cafe every morning for a week that I wouldn't last three days without spitting out the word fuck or shit or whatever else. And Mel agreed to it.

But no. It's Wednesday and this project was due in two days and I hadn't learned a damn thing about the guy other than the fact that he liked to keep to himself.

I walked into painting that morning and like the usual Zayn wasn't in there. In fact I doubted he was even going to show up to class today which wasted like an hour and some minutes of me doing absolutely nothing but daydreaming about how I'd like to punch him the next time I approached him. If he even let me get that close.

But here's what I don't get. Okay, first he hated me then he I don't know, maybe got just a tad bit comfortable with me, comfortable enough to walk me home? Then he was back to ignoring me and then he sang knowing I was there watching him, and then walked me home. Okay after that he was suddenly agreeable to actually doing and getting this project done, to the point where he took me to his dorm and took off his shirt and showed me his tattoos--just the thought of him doing that still gives me chills. And then he was completely different the next time I saw him, two days ago to be exact, and then flipped out over some so called secrets.

I don't understand him. At all. God, what is he even?

I bit my pen, staring at my hands with my eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

Why did he bring up secrets? Like, I'm not trying to sound rude or anything but how the hell would something like a secret bother him so much? To the point where he has that damn bipolar attitude of his? I blinked a few times, sitting up in my seat. What secret could be that incredibly bad?

Maybe it was a girl. Maybe he did drugs. Maybe he dealt them even? Hell, he smoked but they looked like normal tobacco cigarettes to me. Maybe he was an alcoholic. It could explain why he's almost always gone; probably skipping classes to drink.