EAT » [ziam]

nineteen

“All right class,” he announces, having finished attendance, “let’s go out to the track and run some laps!”

Some kids groan, while the more athletic group of the bunch cheers in excitement. The class heads outside to the track to begin running laps. As Mr. Sykes blows the whistle, everyone starts running along the course of the track, the tar layered hot pavement burning the soles of shoes.

Zayn’s inspiration for running this track was to burn off the food he ate for lunch earlier. Two thin slices of sandwich turkey meat and a slice of tomato with a bottle of water, nothing too extreme. All he needed to do was find his zone, breathe in, breathe out, lose track of time, push himself harder, and forget about the eyes on him. He breathes deeper as sweat trickles turn to rivulets, carrying away toxins from his body. One tomato, two turkey slices. Fat, breathe, burn fat. He needed to forget about the taunts in the mirror and from his father and focus on burning more and more.

His legs feel like jell-o as he crosses the starting line for the sixth time, finishing the one and a half mile run. Alec had finished first, as he ran all the time during footie practice, and was helping keep time with Mr. Sykes. When Zayn crossed the line, Alec gave his bum a smack, whispering, “Good job, lad.”

Zayn jumps at the touch, turning to Alec with a terrified face. The smacking of his behind reminded him of Luke, how he took away his innocence, washed away his purity in a flash. “Please don’t touch me,” Zayn begs, his lip quivering.

Alec backs away. “Whoa, calm down. I was just congratulating you.” He was used to giving his footie teammates a quick smack on the behind whenever they did well during a game, so seeing Zayn freak out like that was a surprise to him.

Zayn sits on one of the metal stands, his cheeks flushed like ripe watermelon as he grabs a bottle of water from the cooler. The bottle in his hand shakes as he presses it to his chapped lips. His breathing is too staggering to even chug on some water; he pushed himself way too hard this time.

~**~

“Have you talked to him at all?” asks Niall. He and Liam were sitting outside of the school, kicking their footie ball back and forth to pass the time during their free period.

Liam sighs, the ball kicked to him rested against his foot. “I’ve tried,” he explains, kicking the ball back at Niall, “but he keeps avoiding me. I know he’s still pissed at me… but a couple of weeks ago, he called me out of the blue one night, crying. I felt bad for him, and he even apologized, even though I was the one who needed to apologize.”

“Well, did you?” questions Niall.

“Do what?” replies Liam.

“Apologize, you dork!” shouts Niall.

“Oh,” says Liam with realization, “yeah, but he hung up after I asked why he was crying.”

“That’s strange. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him with Luke at all. He used to come to our practices and stuff?”

Liam bites his lip and stops the ball. “I swear to god, if Luke did anything to him… let’s just say it won’t end pretty.” His fists clench along with his statement.

Niall sits down on the grass. “We all know Luke is just looking for a good shag, so maybe Zayn wouldn’t give him what he wanted, so he just kind of left him high and dry. It’s a theory, I guess.”

“I don’t know. All of this is so stressful.” Liam lies down on the grass beside Niall, staring up at the clouds. “Being in love sucks, ya know? All it’s done is made my life worse. Zayn won’t talk to me and Louis’ and I aren’t on friendly terms. It’s a bunch of bollocks.”