Sound Of Madness(COMPLETE)

(NOW FINISHED) Siobhan Kline has just started junior year. She doesnt expect much from it, she doesnt think anything special will happen. Nothing special happens to her. She has two close friends, a 1976 mustang, her author mother Loretta and her pet hamster LuLu. This is her life. Until she is partnered with the new boy Zayn Malik. He just moved to town and all the girls seemed to take an interest in him.
All the boys want to be his friend.
But he couldnt care less

Zayn Malik fanfiction ----Not Famous


9. One on One


Siobhan is sitting on the hood of her car when Damien and I pull up, she wears a hoodie with the Chanel logo on the front and white jeans, her long hair is up in a high ponytail and for the first time since her makeover, she wears no makeup. Last night, Damien and I three way called Olive and she had filled us in on Ms. Kline’s condition. Turns out, she was taking estrogen pills with blue sky vodka. It knocked her out cold for a good hour. Siobhan’s father, who wasn’t in the picture, was no taking residency in their guest bedroom to look over her mother for a week or two. We were told not to bring it up, unless she says something. As we walked over to them, Damien and I notice the large diamond earrings on Siobhan’s ears. They were princess cut studs that shone different colors when the light hit them. Must be nice to have money.

I don’t notice it then, but as we get close enough to say good morning, Paco is sitting near her tire copying homework. Olive shoots me a look that says “Don’t stare he’s scary enough” and I clear my throat doing my best to greet them and not be intimidated by the boy with gang affiliated markings who sits near the tire so his buddies don’t see him with us. “Mrs. Harris is killing me with Chemistry” he says standing to his feet. “I have the lunatic first thing in the morning” he hands Siobhan her work and ruffles his hair. He does a very accurate impression of Mrs. Harris, moving his shoulders and swaying his hips in that all too familiar fashion.

“Spot on” Damien laughs. “I had her last year when she taught Physics” he shakes his head as if he were remembering something unpleasant. “She’s something else” he fishes in his book bag and pulls out a wrinkled paper, its our music assignment. We had to work together to create a musical piece, but Damien being Damien, he wanted to present the teacher with a complete piece. We wrote a song that we were both excited for. He gives me the paper and tells me to hold onto it, because in my hands it would stay neatly in my folder. The girls don’t ask, thank goodness, because I haven’t told them much about my music talents. I sing. And they don’t know this because I choose not to tell people. Olive knows I draw, but that’s about it and she only knows because she used my English textbook one time and found a bunch of little doodles in it. Hey, when I’m bored, I have to entertain myself somehow.

“Siobhan here hasn’t given me an answer yet” Paco says leaning against the car. “You goin’ to keep me waitin’ or what?” he wiggles her eyebrows at him and I am amused enough to chuckle. Damien hits my arm, and Olive shoots me the dirtiest look. “Paco, I’m sure she’ll go with you, she just has a lot on her mind” Olive nods as she speaks. This girl had a lot of bad habits, but talking for other people had to be in the top five. That and plucking her eyebrows.

“Because I don’t have a mouth and cant speak for myself?” Siobhan looks at Olive, her eyebrows pulling together. “Look Paco, I’ll call you” it was enough for him because after she said this, he smiled and walked over to his group of guys who looked equally as intimidating. “I hate you sometimes Olive” Siobhan adds then takes out her phone. She grunts. “I hate my dad, I swear”

“Do I want to know?” Damien asked as we all started to walk to the building.
“He just sent me a text saying ‘have a great day Sisi’….” she shook her head and turned her phone on mute.

“Yes because that is so terrible” I respond rolling my eyes some. My parents rarely, if that, text or call me. By the looks of it, she has a mother who wants the best for her and a father who is concerned about her school life, why was she complaining.

The day remained uneventful until Biology class, which was to be expected because though Mrs. Harris was strict, she was quite wonky. She shuts the class up with a loud clap of her hands….one, two and then three. It takes three claps to get the room eerie silent. She smiles and her brows dance up and down. “I am assigning projects today, and we will go to the library for the remainder of the class time and research. You will have the same partner as always” she looks at me and Siobhan as if she is concerned for us. Sure we aren’t the best of friends, but we don’t hate each other. We were friends, somewhat. Compared to Damien and Olive, she was a stranger to me. She takes off a notebook from her desk and starts reading names along with their given assignments. “Malik, Grey…you two have my favorite” and as she says this I curse under my breath knowing this will be trying. “Investigating Natural Antibiotics on Common Bacteria” she finishes giving out the assignments and we all go to the library. There are not enough tables, so Siobhan and I sit on the floor against a wall somewhere in the Medical section. I cant even begin to wrap my brain around the concept of this project. I sigh and open my textbook to the bacteria chapter, I don’t even know where to start. I can feel her staring at me.

“Stop looking at me”

“Sorry” she leans forward and looks at the page I am on. “Need help?” she looks from the book to me about three times before taking my book in her lap and changing the page to one on the different kinds of bacteria. “Take notes on the different types of bacteria” she pushes the textbook to my lap and looks at me expectantly. When I start writing notes, she nods approvingly and looks back at her own paper. She is closer to me than usual, our sides touching, and she smells different today. She smells of something sweet, but I cant put my finger to it. After some time, she looks at me again. She stares. Before I say something she speaks. “I think its nice you agreed to take Olive to the dance. She gets excited for school dances”

If Damien wasn’t so stubborn, he would go with Olive and I would take you. This is what I want to say, but since I consider the options too quickly I just nod. She continues. “I know she’ll have fun, Halloween is her favorite holiday”

“That doesn’t shock me one bit” I smirk and look at her. I dare to ask about Paco. “Paco and you going?”

“Yeah…” she shrugs. “He’s nice to me, always has been, even when I didn’t look like this”

Before I can respond Mrs. Harris stands in front of us, she sits and looks at us both expectantly. “Hi” I say, what else was their to say….she waves back and leans her torso close to us.

“What are you all gossiping about in your corner here? Lord knows I love gossip. So Malik….do you wish to share or would you like to share Siobhan”

I raise my hand slightly, volunteering myself. “We were just saying how much we love biology and how we admire the brilliant project choices you have made.” Siobhan looks at me then at Mrs. Harris who’s face went from relaxed to tight and serious.

“I’ll be seeing you both after school” she returns a few moments later with two detention slips. Crap.

In detention, Mrs. Harris locks us in her classroom as she goes to the faculty room for a half hour.

She writes on the board in big sloppy letter “SHUT UP” and I cant help but chuckle, her no tolerance policy is becoming more tattered than my mother rag doll from childhood. Siobhan sits on the other side of the room, clearly annoyed as she does homework. In the silence, I hear the sound of her pencil against paper. I pull out my notebook and start to draw a caricature of Mrs. Harris. Maybe this was dangerous territory, but drawing, like music, takes my mind off things. Five minutes later, I hear her throw down her pencil and mumble something. I don’t say anything, or look, which I guess is what she wants because when I don’t react she stands. “I don’t do detention” her voice is one octave above normal. “Why did you have to get us detention?” I turn to her, she is mad, her hands on her hips and she is tapping one of her feet. The sole of her sneaker…tap, tap, tap. “Well?!” I must admit, she is quite cute when she tries on attitude.

“Oh come on, loosen up” I wave my hand dismissingly showing her exactly how much I care. “This isn’t too bad, we’re just in her room”

She walks over to me, one look at my drawing and she seems to panic. “Oh My God.” her hand finds her forehead. “Are you trying to get us in trouble even more? You have been hanging with Damien too much” she takes the drawing of Mrs. Harris and crumples it into a ball.

“Siobhan, take a breath” I take back the paper ball that was my drawing and open it up. I run my palms over it trying to flatten it some. “Its innocent fun” I show her the drawing once more in hopes of getting her to smile, but nothing.
“Detention slips go in our permanent files” she whines. “I have a plan, and detention is not part of it”

A plan? Oh, I had to here this. “Which is”

“NYU” she stands straight, almost stiff. “I work for my grades, and believe me, working in this class with you has been work”

“I do nothing to you” I chided a bit confused. She balls her fists in over exaggerated anger. “I’m nice to you aren’t I?” this seems to calm her, but she’s still mad, its clear because she stomps back to her chair and sits with her back to me. I return all my attention back to my drawing, or at least I try to.


My ten year plan. After graduating high school, I want to get into NYU for their Art program. Major in Art, minor in music. My goal is to be an artist who can live easily and maybe I will sing at bars if I have to on some nights. In ten years, I will be 27, and hopefully have the career, a house and maybe a boyfriend/husband. Maybe. Ok, so my plan isn’t completely bulletproof but you get the idea, I need to focus. I don’t get bad grades, let alone detention. And I don’t allow myself to get sidetracked by boys, but damn Zayn Malik sure is something….

My father is cooking in the kitchen when I get home, it smells like something salty and greasy. My mom wont eat it. I watch from the counter as he flips salmon burgers on a pan and sings to himself. I got my musical chops from my dad. When I clear my throat he turns quickly. He is a man of 5’10, his face is kind but his goatee and nose ring give him an edge. His hair falls at his shoulders but it is pulled back into a ponytail and both of his arms are tattooed. He is 35, and was supposed to just be a one night stand for my mother, but she got pregnant with me when he was 18 and she was pushing 30. I don’t think I was meant to happen, but I think both of them got used to the idea of me. Their romance was short lived, he wanted to live his life like all his friends and my mother gave him that freedom with a custody hearing. Over the years, I see my father maybe twice a month, if that. “Mom doesn’t eat French fries”

“Oh, these are sweet potato fries, and I baked them” he gives me a few in a small bowl and I eat. “How was detention” he smiles.

“It isn’t funny dad,” I say as I eat the fries, they were delicious. “My lab partner thinks its all cool and its really isn’t. Mrs. Harris is ridiculous”

“Zayn, is that the lab partner” he raises a brow as I nod. “You’re mother told me everything,” he serves me a glass of juice. “When will we meet him?”

“I don’t know, he comes with Olive and Damien all the time”

“Damien still into music?” my father asks my turning back to the stove and flipping the burgers. My father always preferred Damien to Olive, actually, he cant stand Olive. When she was younger, he tolerated her, but he hates how she talks on and on with no real thought for others. One of her flaws, but to my dad, it’s a big one.

“Orson!” its my mom, and she is calling my dads name. He turns the stove on low and wipes his hands on a rag that hangs from his pocket.

“Duty calls” he tells me and makes his way up the stairs.

As I set the dinner table some time later, there is a knock on my door. My dad is busy serving the food and my mother hasn’t even come down for dinner yet. I answer it and see Damien and Zayn standing there. “My dad will shit his pants when he sees you” I tell Damien jokingly, he walks past me and I can hear my dad greet him from where I stand. I open the door wider letting Zayn in. He wears a dark red tee shirt and black jeans. “Dad this is Zayn”

“Zayn, Damien, will you two join us for dinner?” It is my mother, she walks to the table slowly. it’s the most unkempt I have ever seen her. “Orson here has made Salmon burgers and French fries from yams” she takes a seat in her normal spot and reaches for a wheat roll.

“Sure” the boys say in unison. My dad sits opposite my mother, I sit on the left of her, Damien on her right and Zayn beside him. It is quiet, until Damien breaks the ice. “Orson, I don’t think my burger is cooked all the way” he brings a napkin to his black lips. “Its pink” his face as he says this is priceless, then the table breaks into laughter.

“Honey its salmon” my mother takes a bite. “If it aint pink something is very wrong”.

After dinner, my father helps my mother back to her room and I put the dishes in the dishwasher. Damien put away leftovers and Zayn cleaned off the table and stove. When we finished, Damien checked his watch. “Fuck….tell your dad I will stop by later ok? I have to go” he stops and looks at Zayn and I. “Should I be scared to leave you two alone? I’m afraid one of you wont come out alive” his sarcasm is dry and I mock him.

“No. Where you headed?” I ask. Part of me is uncomfortable at just the thought of being alone with Zayn. My father was not the overbearing kind, so he could care less who stayed or who went.

“My parents are in town, and my dad told me to meet him at the theater ten minutes ago” he is practically walking to the door as he says this. I don’t argue, I just watch as he gets in his beat up jeep that makes scary noises when he starts it and he drives off.

“Care to work on the bio project?” Zayn asks as I turn back to him. “I have my books in the car..”

No, I want to jump your bones, why the hell are you so hot. If I only had the nerve to say this. My eyes wander to him, his neck, his lips, that hair, those eyes….his hands. Hands that I’ve fantasized having roam my bare skin. I swallow what feels like a tennis ball and I shake my head. “Do you have plans tonight?” I ask.

“Nope” he sits on the bottom step. “I was going to go with Olive to the Halloween shop, she said something about getting our costumes today. I told her I had plans with my uncle”

“You lied to her?”

“Yeah. Truth be told, I didn’t feel like shopping for a costume now. The dance is kind of all she talks about.”

I could imagine it, Olive was excited and she wasn’t shy about it. She wore a silly grin anytime someone in school even mentioned it. “You’re a good artist” I blurt, out of the blue. He looks at me as if I have ten heads. “Sorry, random, but I was remembering the drawing you did of Mrs. Harris”

“I dabble” his eyes meet mine and I can tell he feels the awkwardness that I do. “I assume you do too, NYU is known for their art program isn’t it?” I nod, he continues. “Yeah, my uncle told me about it a few weeks ago. He says their music program is good”

This is so awkward, it is painful. I am alone, in my house, with Zayn for the first time and I am clueless. I hear my mothers words of advice in my head “Boys are the simplest creatures imaginable. You want him, go for it. Let him know he is admired/ admirable and honey, don’t let him forget you. Give the boy something to write home about, so that you’re all that’s on his mind. There is power in a wink you know” A wink, a wink? A fucking wink? Oh hell, what do I have to loose. “Is there something in your eye?” he asks. To play off my failed attempt at winking, I rub my eye.

“Yeah, lets go upstairs” I say hoping he doesn’t read too much into it.

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