Like I Love You: A Zayn Malik Romance

Trinity Ross has always been a fan of One Direction. Not a superfan, but a fan. And she gets the chance to meet them--on accident. Bumping into Zayn Malik on her journey to fame has been the best thing that's ever happened to her. But complications due to fame have risen. Will they stick it out? Or will everything come crumbling down?

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7. Trying to Avoid Embarrassment

 

"I have nothing to wear!" 

Groaning, I threw some clothes down onto the floor. I'd been looking for an outfit for God knows how long, and so far all I've come up with was to wear makeup. 

Just dress normally, his voice reminded me for the billionth time tonight. I groaned again. Then it hit me. 

I ravaged through my closet. Smiling to myself, I put on a pair of black ripped skin-tight jeans and an off-the-shoulder All Time Low shirt. I slipped a blue sock over one foot and a purple one over the other, then searched until I found my black Vans. After I put those on, I went to do my makeup. 

I grimaced at myself in the mirror; I looked horrible. Desperately, I put on a thin layer of foundation the. coated my eyes with black eyeliner and mascara. I glided some strawberry-flavored lip gloss on, then combed through my hair. I pouted playfully on the mirror, then laughed and walked away. 

"Well, you look pretty," my mom complimented when I got downstairs. 

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever.' 

"Where are you going?" Peyton asked as she came up behind Mom. 

"Somewhere," I retorted. 

She held up her hands in defense. "Sorry, I was just asking." 

I sighed. "No, it's my fault. I'm just nervous." 

"About what?" Mom asked. 

"Well . . ." 

How could I tell then that I was going on a date with Zayn? Peyton'd probably freak, and my mother . . . well, I didn't really have to worry about her. 

What if they don't believe you? NY insecure side asked me. 

I took a deep breath. Sink or swim. 

"I'm going on a date." 

Mom's eyes widened. "Oh, honey, that's wonderful! Is it your first?" 

"Mom!" I exclaimed. 

"Well, is it?" she prodded in the same high-pitched tone. 

I sighed again. "Yes, it is, now can we please move--" 

"Who's the lucky guy?" she continued as if I hadn't spoken. 

"Oh, this should be interesting," I heard Peyton mutter. I shot her a glare, and she returned it with a smirk. 

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," I said dismissively. 

"Oh, come on!" my mom practically whined. 

I rolled my eyes. 

"Why wont you tell us?" Peyton asked deviously. 

"Is it someone bad?" 

I crossed my arms and shifted my weight to the other foot. 

"No." He's anything but. 

"Someone weird?" 

"No." As if. 

"Are they obnoxious?" 

Certainly not. "No." 

"Is it a pity date?" 

I gasped, standing straight. "What?" 

She shrugged. "You know, you didn't want to hurt his feelings so you said yes. That's a pity date, my dear." 

"Oh," I said as I rolled my eyes. I leaned on one leg again, also crossing my arms. "No, it is not a pity date." 

"Tell me!" she begged. 

"Fine!" I yelled, exasperated, throwing my hands up. "It's Zayn Malik. Happy?!" 

She was silent, her face stuck in a stupid "oh my God" expression. 

But then she smirked. "You were right. I don't believe you." 

"See?" I sad quietly, turning away and crossing my arms again--they seemed really bipolar today. "I told you you wouldn't." 

"Oh, sweetheart," my mom said, "it's okay, I believe you." 

I turned to her, letting my arms fall limply by my sides. "You do?" 

"Of course! I know they're from here, and . . ." She leaned in close so she could murmur, "I saw who dropped you off last night." 

I blushed. 

"Now," she said in a normal tone, straightening up and fixing a lock of my wavy hair. "I'm pretty sure he's almost here, since you came down. Have fun." She kissed my cheek and disappeared into the kitchen. 

I exhaled through my nose and grabbed my keys. 

Peyton went to the living room, and I sat on the stairs, sighing. I looked at my phone; only five more minutes. 

The doorbell rang. 

I got up and opened the door, and, standing on my doorstep with a shiny blue box, was Zayn. 

"Zayn?" I asked, confused. "You're early." 

He chuckled. "I'm aware."  

I raised an eyebrow at him, and he smiled wider. "I wanted to meet your family before we go out." 

I opened my mouth, but before I could make a sound, my mother's voice rang out. 

"Trinity! Who's at the door?" 

I looked at Zayn, and he smiled sweetly. 

"Um . . . Zayn," I called back over my shoulder. 

"Okay." 

I turned back around and focused on Zayn's outfit; he was wearing a black V-neck, white skinny jeans with chains, and black DC'S. He was beyond hot. 

"Well?" he asked with a smirk, causing my eyes to meet his again. "You gonna stare, or you gonna let me in?" 

I rolled my eyes. "Jerk," I muttered under my breath, but moved aside nonetheless. 

He grinned and stepped inside, handing me the little box. 

I looked at it in my hand. "What's this?" I asked, my eyes making contact with the back of his head as he looked around.  

He finally turned to me. "A box. Nice place, by the way." He looked around again, then his eyes settled on my mother, who came out of the kitchen. 

"Hello, dear," she said to him as she gave him a welcoming hug. 

"Hi," Zayn replied with a polite smile. 

Mom pulled away. "You must be Zayn." 

He smiled bigger. "Yep." 

She smiled back. "Oh, Trinity, you picked a good one for your first time." 

"Mom!" I said in disbelief after putting the box down on the table that was against the wall beside me. 

"What? Oh, did you not want him to know?" 

"This is your first date?" Zayn asked me. 

I blushed. "Uh . . ." 

"Cause if it is, it's okay."

I blinked. "Really?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, I understand. Though I don't see how."

"How what?" I asked, crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes.

"How it's your first date. I mean, you're beautiful, how could someone not take you out before?"

"Aw!" I heard my mom gush.

"Mom," I snapped.

She put her hands up in surrender. "Sorry. You two have fun on your date," she said before she kissed Zayn's and my cheek.

"Peyton, I thought I told you to clean this up!" she yelled as she walked back into the kitchen.

"Oh, no, Zayn, we have to go," I urged, trying to push him out the door.

"What? Why?" he asked, not moving.

"Just--go!"

"Trinity--"

"Oh, my God!"

We both froze, staring at each other. Slowly, we turned our heads to see Peyton staring at Zayn, awestruck.

"Agh," Zayn groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey," he said to Peyton, waving. "I'm Zayn." He stuck out his hand for her to shake.

I guess she didn't get the message, because she ran up to him and crushed him in a huge hug, making him step back in surprise.

"Oh, my God, I love you!" Peyton said as she buried her face in his chest.

Suddenly, I wanted to rip her head off. Why was she hugging him and why didn't he stop her? I gritted my teeth.

Trinity, stop, my brain told me. 

Stop what? I thought.

Stop being jealous. He's not yours, you don't have a claim on him.

I shook my head, my eyes closed. Then, taking a deep breath, I reopened them and looked at Zayn; he was trying to get Peyton off.

"Okay, that's enough," I said loudly, walking up to them and practically ripping her arm off as I pried her away.

"Let's go," I muttered to Zayn as I grabbed his hand, trying to get the message across to Peyton that he was mine.

"I love you!" she screamed one more time as we walked out the door. I slammed it behind me.

Zayn chuckled, but said nothing else as we climbed into the limo. 

 

 

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lol hey guys :3

41 reads :o awhh i love you:]

but you're still not saying anything :'( its starting to feel like wattpad lolol

and giiirrrllll...youu and iiiii....we bout to make some meemoriesss toniiiiiighttttt...i waaanna livee whiile we're youuung...we waanna livee whiile we're young

oh god i  can't take it my heart died haha

Love you, stay sexy, and please comment, it would make me so happy :3 xx

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