**I have a new cover!!! And it's totally cool. Big big love and thanks to @Hopless_Dreamss, this chapter is dedicated to you (; xx**
Violet
I walk into History early, sitting myself down at my usual desk at the front and pulling out my books and pens. My teacher, Mrs. Green, offers me a smile from behind her desk and I tap my fingers on my desk patiently as I wait for class to start.
More students enter the room, yelling at each other even though they're right next to each other. There's the loud scrape of chairs and desks and bags being thrown to the floor. I sigh and open my book, writing a few pre-notes down.
"God, would you stop fussing?" Brittany and her crew enter the class next, walking past me to their seats at the back. "I dumped him. No big deal."
My ears perk up and I strain myself to listen more into their conversation.
"Dumped him?" Brittany's friend gasps. "But why?"
"Too needy," Brittany replies casually. I just don't need that, you know? He would just always be throwing himself at me and I had had enough. So, I dumped him."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
I turn around to look at her fully, my eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Brittany holds up her compact and covers her lips in lip gloss with the other hand. She notices me staring and snaps her compact shut, staring at me. "Problem, Smith?"
I gulp and shake my head, turning back around. Is she serious? Did she really dump Zayn? They're over? I can't believe it, and somehow it doesn't make sense. I can't help but think that Brittany's lying about dumping Zayn. But nonetheless, they're over. They're done. I don't know why, but this forms a warmth in my stomach.
"Okay, class," Mrs. Green stands, "page 58."
------
"What are you eating?" I anxiously eye Liam's plate of food which looks strangely yellow, and that he's happily eating.
He looks up from his plate and finishes his mouthful before speaking. "Chickpea and potato curry," he says.
I squint a bit in disgust and he laughs, stabbing his fork at the plate and holding it out to me, his hand underneath to catch anything dropping. "Try some."
I bite my lip and look at the fork, then at him, and he just gives me a smile, edging me on. I open my mouth and he feeds me the fork, and I feel totally stupid but I don't care because Liam's really close to me, and this curry is actually really damn good.
"Like it?" He asks.
I chew slowly and nod. "Mmmm."
He laughs and then his eyes fall to my lips. "You-" He doesn't finish his sentence, just puts his thumb to the edge of my lips, wiping the last remains of food. He smiles and kisses me softly before pulling away and returning to his plate.
I blush madly under his touch and return to my pasta. I put my hand down by my leg and feel for Liam's, and he quickly tangles his fingers with mine as he talks to Louis about their next big game.
"So, Vi," Harry says, mouth absolutely full with food. "Hus iht goen?"
"Huh?"
He swallows. "How's it going?" He repeats.
Liam's hand tightens around mine and right now, it's going perfect. "Great." I look down at my plate and try and hide my bashful smile.
"Hey, that's good," he says, nodding and chucking more food in his mouth. "You deserve to be happy, you know." He winks and before I can reply, he moves the conversation towards someone else.
"Hey, babe." Liam turns to me. "Louis and I were just talking about next Saturday night. The game. And I was thinking it'll be real nice if you could sit on the bench by the field, you know, instead of up high."
I cock my head to the side. "Really?"
He smiles. "Yeah."
I kiss his cheek. "Sure."
"You'll always be my good luck charm," he says. "But now you're closer."
I laugh, agreeing with him. "You're right. I might work better."
"Hey, did you hear," Louis points with his fork at a table ahead of us in the distance, "the guy got totally dumped."
My eyes follow the edge of the fork and I see Zayn sitting alone, taking a long sip out of his water bottle. I wonder why he even comes in here, if he's just going to sit by himself.
"Really? Brittany dumped him?" Liam asks.
"Apparently," Louis replies.
"Nah, no way," Harry speaks up. "Look at that guy. I'd be shit scared to dump him."
Zayn looks up and it's only when he looks right at me that I realise I'm still looking at him. I quickly look back at the others.
"Probably mutual then," Louis shrugs.
"Or maybe he dumped her?" I say loudly, sternly. All eyes go to me and I suddenly feel very insecure. I shrink back in my seat.
The boys laugh. "Yeah, right. Because people dump Brittany," Louis says. "Brittany dumps people, it's not the other way around." He shoots Liam a look. "Sorry, bro."
Liam squeezes my hand tighter. "It's alright, It's not a big deal anymore." He looks down at me. "Eh, babe?"
I just smile weakly back, but I can't scratch the whole Zayn and Brittany break up out of my mind. I know it's none of my business, but I really care about it. I want to know every single detail.
"Oh oh, look," Harry says, eyes wide as he looks ahead. "Here comes Brittany."
We all look, we can't help it. Brittany enters the cafeteria with her minions trailing behind her. My eyes, again, move over to Zayn and I see him focusing deeply on the back of his drink bottle, not looking up once. I look back to Brittany, watching her walk in slowly, scanning the room, talking to people. When I look back at Zayn, he's gone.
"Where'd he go?" I worry.
"Oh, shit!" Harry cries, basically falling off his seat. "Collision!"
I look back and wonder what he's talking about, but then realise. Somehow, as Brittany was coming in, and Zayn was leaving his table, the two bumped into each other. I just notice how quiet the cafeteria is.
"We shouldn't listen," I say. "It's not our business." But even I'm not following my own advice, and my eyes are still glued to the two of them.
"Sorry," Zayn mumbles, trying to step past Brittany.
She holds her hand out, stopping him. "Come back for more?" She jokes, her voice raw.
A few people, Harry included, laugh. I don't, and Zayn doesn't.
He looks down at her, and there's a look that's shared between the two of them, one that no one else knows but them. And it's then that I realise that Zayn dumped Brittany.
"Don't do this, Britt," he says.
"Do what?" She throws back.
He leans closer to her, lips by her ear. He says something, but Brittany only laughs. He then moves past her and walks towards our table and I feel my heart beat quicken.
"Whatever, Zayn!" Brittany cries. "Go cry somewhere else! We're over!"
My eyes follow Zayn as he walks past our table. He glances over at me and I swear I see some kind of emotion flash behind his eyes, but I can't make out what. He reaches the door, pulls the finger at everyone, and heads out.
"Damn," Harry says. "That was tense."
I have the sudden urge to race after Zayn, and it takes everything in me to sit still, locked to Liam.
"He's a crazy one, he is," Louis nods.
I can't hold it anymore. I turn to Liam. "Liam? I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." I kiss him before he can reply and run out of the cafeteria.
I come to a halt in the empty hall, looking around me for Zayn. He can't have gone far. He has to be somewhere. I chose one end and start running down it. I turn the corner, and there he is, absentmindedly walking by himself in the middle of the corridor.
For a minute or two I just stand there, watching him, then I slowly start to walk forward. I think about turning back around, I think about it a lot, but I still don't. I need to know everything about that stupid break up. My curiosity gets the better of me and I yell out his name.
He slows down, and I know he knows my voice. He doesn't turn around.
"Are you gonna make me run?" I cry.
He doesn't do anything.
I sigh and pick up my pace. "I just, I, er, well ... Oh, come on, just stop."
He does, and slowly turns to face me, hands in pockets, eyes dark. "What the fuck do you want?"
"You know Brittany is as strong as she is because no one stands up to her," I tell him.
He sighs. "Leave me alone," he snaps, turning back around.
I run in front of him, placing my hands on his chest. "No, stop! Listen to me! That whole thing just before, what was that?"
"I said leave me alone!" He yells.
I stand my ground, looking him right in the eye. "No."
He rolls his eyes and looks away from me, doing anything he can to avoid eye contact. I use the chance to speak to him again. "I know you broke up with Brittany. You."
He's quiet for a bit. "Why do you even care, yeah?"
"I care because she's going around telling everyone otherwise. Shouldn't you care, too?"
"I simply don't give two fucks."
"I know that's not true."
He looks at me and sighs. "Look, let her tell everyone what she wants. It's obviously what she does. If it makes her happy, then so be it."
"Oh, so now you care about her happiness?" I'm angry with him, because he's being such a coward. And I know he's not normally like this.
He shakes his head, eyes focused. "Just leave me alone," he says, a bit quieter.
"Zayn!" I cry as he moves past me and walks down the corridor. "Zayn ..." I say quietly. I sigh, wondering why my heart's hammering so hard in my chest. And wondering, actually, why I do care so much.
-----
"Okay," I scan the list I printed off the internet that reads all the ingredients needed to make nitroglycerin, "I can do this."
It was the hardest thing ever tracking down every single ingredient needed, but I finally managed to get them all. And now, here I am in Mr. O'Neil's class he said I could use, surrounded with acids and glycerin and science equipment.
I put on my safety glasses and read the list again. This will be the easiest thing ever. "Fill the Styrofoam container with ice," I read aloud. "Okay, seems easy." I pick up my massive bag of ice, almost collapsing due to the weight, and full up my container. I have no idea what this is for, but I just roll with it.
"Okay, next." I read the list again. "Put the acids in the freezer- oh, fuck." I read it again. "This will save time, yadi-yah, bury, oh! Here we go. Bury the glass flask in the ice." I skip the freezer step and do the next one. "Pour in 200mL of concentrated sulfuric acid." I do that. "This is so easy."
I go along following the steps, pouring in the nitric acid, mixing the two acids together, and adding the glycerin. I read the entire paragraph all about adding in glycerin and think I have it covered, adding about 5mL at a time, when I read "DO NOT PUT THE GLYCERIN IN 5ML AT A TIME."
I put down the beaker, eyeing my solution. "Ohhh, no."
"Add very small drops into the acid solution, turning the flask with your hand as you do so. Adding the glycerin all at once will result in death. Ha, just kidding. Well, actually, I don't even know. But I wouldn't try it."
I scream, jumping back from my potion. Oh, god, I can't do this. I thought I could, but I so can't. I close my eyes, gritting my teeth.
"I need Zayn's help," I choke out.
I take off my glasses and apron and rush out of the lab, pulling the door shut behind me. "It's okay, Violet," I tell myself as I start walking down the hall. "Just go get Zayn and ask him to help you. He'll do it. He'll laugh and never let you live this down, but he'll still do it."
I reach Zayn's dorm and take a deep breath before knocking. I just hope Niall's in there, too. He'll make Zayn help me.
There's no reply, so I knock louder. It's 4:30 on a Thursday, where the hell can Zayn be? I mean, obviously Niall will be with Avery. I knock again. Zayn's probably sleeping.
"Zayn!" I cry. "Open up!" I sigh and try the handle, finding out it's unlocked. I roll my eyes, boys. I open the door and enter the room. The first thing I see is that Zayn's not on his bed, and the bathroom is also vacant.
I walk around the room, looking around just in case Zayn's in the corner or something. "Anyone here?"
I sigh and sit down on Zayn's bed, not wanting to go back to the lab alone. As much as it pains me to say, I can't do this experiment without Zayn.
I hear a faint noise in the room, like someone speaking. I look around nervously, but the voice is so quiet and tinny that it can't be real. I move over and realise I'm sitting rather uncomfortably on Zayn's MP3. I roll my eyes and go to chuck it away when I hear the noise again. It's coming from the device. I must have pushed play when I sat on it.
I turn up the volume, listening more closely. After a while I recognise, through the buzzing sound of the MP3, that the voice belongs to Zayn. I snort, he recorded himself?!
I turn the volume way up and start the entire recording again, so keen to listen to it all.
"Hello," his voice comes through. "This is Zayn Malik." There's a long silence and then he's up again. "Day one of suspension, s-u-c-k-s."
There's a loud bang and it keeps repeating, and it only takes me a second to know he's chucking a ball at the wall. The whole thing reminds me again of when we were both at Harrods, and I push the thought out of my mind.
"Oh, check it out. Zayn Malik, the most famous tennis player in all of the world," the recording speaks again. "And the crowd goes wild! AAHHHH! Folks, can you hear them? They're going crazy out there." I cover my hand with my mouth to try and stifle my laughter. "AHHH, ZAYN, WE LOVE YOU! He's done it! He's done the impossible. Zayn Malik, everyone! The one, the only, the legend."
"Oh, my god," I laugh to myself. This is the greatest thing ever! I wonder if I can take his MP3 and use this recording as blackmail. He can do anything for me.
"Suspension," he starts singing, "succccks. Yeah, suspension succccks." He even starts tapping a beat and I can't stop smiling. "If you think you wanna be cool and step up for a nerd, don't, because you will be blamed for the rest of your liiiifeee. Da da da dum."
More silence, and I can't even control myself. Is this really what Zayn does in his spare time?
"Sssh," a whisper surprises me, "the culprit, he's in the bathroom." I give a puzzled look. "Christ, it's a bomb! Everyone, clear out!" I let out a loud laugh as he starts making gun noises. "Zayn! Zayn! We need your help! I'm coming! Everyone get back!"
Oh. My. God.
"Okay," he whispers again. "It's Sargent Malik here, and all my men are dead."
"Sargent Malik!" I screech.
"I'm the only survivor, which is explainable because I'm damn cool. Wait, what's that? I hear something..." There's a loud explosive noise, which I assume he's making. "Aaahh! I've been hit, I repeat, I've been hit. This is a final message, to anyone that gets this," he takes a deep, dramatic breath, "I've hid one billion dollars in the-" He doesn't finish his sentence, and I can't believe what I've just heard. I'm doubling over with laughter, my entire body aching. I can barely breathe.
It's silent for so long that I assume the entertainment is over. I stand up and continue holding the MP3. I can use this totally to my advantage. Who should I show first? I bet everyone would just love to find out how much of a loser Zayn is.
Suddenly there's a loud sigh from the MP3 and I get all excited because it's not over yet. I listen intently for what he has prepared next.
"There's this girl," he starts, "and I can't get her out of my head. I don't really know why, because she's nothing special. In fact, she's downright annoying."
I furrow my eyebrows. Is he ...
"She has this annoying stare that she gives you that makes her think she's way better than you, and she's just so plain. I don't think her face has ever seen a stitch of make up, and she definitely needs it."
He's talking about me. I know he is. I gasp, my eyes narrowed. I can't believe him! Sure, we're not best friends, but I don't go around making recordings about all of his flaws. I would run out of tape. I shake my head, my jaw locked. So, he thought no one would find out, huh? Especially not me. I wonder what he'll have to say about this.
"But," oh great, there's more! "she's ... different."
My eyes flutter downwards, listening very closely.
"And I kind of like the way she smiles, because her eyes light up and she sort of, like, glows. And she gets really happy about stupid things, but they're not stupid to her."
I lean against the wall, holding in my breath. My entire body is tingling with this sensation that I've never felt before.
"You can tell they make her happy because she tries to convince you into liking them, too. And I thought I understood her, but I don't think I do at all."
He hesitates, for so long that I'm basically on the edge waiting. I want to scream, 'hurry up! What's the end? Come on!'
"And," he says slowly, making my eyes widen and heart hammer, "I think I want to..."
I drop the recording as the door flings open, showing a shocked Zayn in the doorway. His eyes go to me, practically stuck to the wall, my whole body red, and then they go to the MP3 on the floor. His eyes widen.
I'm breathing so heavily that I actually can barely breathe at all. He just looks at me, and I try and swallow and exhale, and inhale, and exhale. But inside I'm freaking out. Zayn's words continuously run through my mind and they permanently stay there. But he wasn't talking about me, of course he wasn't. Maybe it was Brittany. There's so many reasons why he wasn't talking about Brittany, but I still believe it.
He just looks at me, in total shock. "What the hell are you doing in here?!"
I try and think of the reason I actually came in here the first place, but all I can think about is that recording and how I know it wasn't me, but how I kind of hope it was. And for some unknown reason, I reach down and grab the MP3 before he can.
He looks at his MP3 in my hands and I can almost feel his fear. He rubs at the back of his neck and laughs awkwardly. "You, uh, you didn't listen to anything on there, did you?" He eyes me nervously.
I look down at the device in my hands, feeling a small sense of power. "What, on this? Of course not."
"Right, because that would be totally rude and disrespectful and you know that stealing people's MP3's, that hold very personal stuff by the way, is wrong."
"Oh, totally," I agree.
He holds out his hand, giving a fake smile. "Mind handing it over then?"
"I don't know if I can do that," I say uneasily.
He steps closer. "Come on, give it to Zayn."
"Oh, you mean Sargent Malik?" I give a goofy grin as his eyes go as wide as I've ever seen. I turn and sprint out the door and when I look over my shoulder, I see him running after me down the hall.
"Vi-Princess!" He yells, gaining speed. "You bitch! Get back here!"
I laugh madly as I continue running, determined to out beat him. I spin around and jog backwards, holding the MP3 up in my hand. "You're quite the entertainer, Zayn. Oh, no sorry, Sargent Malik."
He lets out a deep breath, his cheeks heating up. I smile because he's so embarrassed, and I've never seen him this way. I've finally got him where I want him.
"Please tell me this isn't happening," he groans.
"Oh, it's happening. Like your tennis tournament. I didn't know you were a tennis player!" I cry.
He gets a bit closer to me and lowers his head. "I'm not," he whines.
"Oh, but you had the whole crowd cheering for you? Aren't you, um, oh, what was it? Zayn Malik, the one, the only, the legend?"
He sucks in a breath. "Alright, quit it. You've had your laugh. Now give the MP3 to me." He holds out his hand as he draws in closer.
I hold it behind me as I slow down into just a walk. "But that's just the problem," I give him a sympathetic look, "if I give it back to you, then how can I show everyone else?"
He freaks out. "Don't you dare!"
I exaggeratedly think. "Niall would like it, don't you think? Oh! What about Brittany? Or maybe Harry, or Louis, or-"
"Do it and I swear to God I will kill you and your whole damn family."
I smile devilishly and I stop walking entirely, so that we're both standing just a mere metre or so away from each other. "I think I'm the one that gets to make the threats here."
He hesitates, thinking about how he's going to get out of this situation, and then his face is covered in alarm. "Did you listen to the whole thing?"
The part I was trying so desperately to forget enters my mind again and I panic, turning around to run off. But I'm not so quick and Zayn rushes forward, tackling my body to the wall and pinning me down. My chest moves up and down rapidly underneath him and I stare up at his face. He's so close to me, his body basically on mine, and I can feel his breath on my face. It's kind of minty, with the tiniest hint of tobacco, and it gets me light headed.
He has a look of determination on his face, but it's getting covered by the same hesitation I wear. He looks like he wants to move, to let me go, but he doesn't. And I'm kind of wish he never does.
"Tell me," he breathes. His voice is fast and heavy, but quiet now. Just a simple whisper. Because I'm right here.
Up close I see the jagged lines of his stubble, and how prickly and uneven it looks. It makes me want to touch it, because it's so fascinating. And I can see the lines of his skin, and how they make beautiful patterns that I've never seen before. And my entire body is throbbing, and I keep repeating his words from the recording over and over in my head. They make me weak.
"N-No," I stammer, my voice barely being heard. "You c-came in just after the, uh, Sargent Malik." My chest quivers as I say my lie, my breathing becoming slightly faster.
He looks at me, studies me. And he knows. He knows I'm lying. He knows I heard the very last part, and he knows that I know it's about me. Seeing the quick way his eyes dart across my face just confirms it. He was talking about me.
He reaches up and I feel his fingers dust along my hand before he grabs his MP3, gently pulling it away. He then moves off me, leaving me feeling breathless and empty.
"Good," he says simply. "Just, uh, checking."
I want him to tell me about it, tell me something; anything that'll help me to understand it more.
"Because if you did, it wasn't about you anyway," he says awkwardly, and now it's my turn to tell that he's lying. "Just saying."
"I know," I reply.
His eyes flicker to meet mine and we share a small knowing glance, except I don't think either of us actually know what we're supposed to be knowing.
"Sorry," I squeak.
"Yeah," he says. He holds up his MP3. "Just forget it, alright?" He walks off, back to his dorm, discarding me.
I stay watching him and I shake my head, my throat raw and thick. "I can't."