5. Runaway Loves

"But Dad!" I whined. "Why can't I be with Zayn? Do you not understand that I love him?"


"I don't care if you love Zayn," he argued. "What matters is if your mom and I think he's a good person. And we don't. I'm sorry, but you can't be with him."


"Fine! If you won't let me get my way, I guess I'll just have to run away with him!"


I wasn't serious. I was dead serious. Zayn was the kind of person you would want to run away with. And right now, that's exactly what I wanted to do.


I ran upstairs, followed by my parents, of course, and slammed my door shut. I pushed my bed against the door while I typed in Zayn's number on my phone.


"Oli, open up!" My dad said, trying to make his tone sympathetic.


"Dear, I don't really think Oli means it. She's a good girl, remember? But we also have to remember that she is a teenager now, so a lot of the times she's going to hate herself and everything. Just come downstairs, Honey. She'll come out soon or later."


"Oh, I suppose, Annette. We'll let her be."


I heard steps down the stairs.


Zayn answered the phone.


What was the funny thing is that we said, "Hey Zayn." and, "Hey Oli." at the same time.


"You first." Zayn offered.


"My parents...they don't think we should be together anymore."


"Mine don't either."


This was amazing. Now, since his parents don't want us to be together, he wouldn't object to the whole runaway-love stuff.


"Runaway with me?"


"Yeah, Baby!" I was so happy that I'm pretty sure that my heart did an actual somersault.


"Meet me in my backyard."




I loved him. I know it's weird, how we've only met and stuff, but, actually, this isn't the first time that we've met.


Let's see, in Kindergarten...yeah, Kindergarten, we thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend up until second grade, when our teacher told us we weren't dating and that we weren't allowed yet. But secretly, Zayn gave me hugs and kisses on the cheek whenever we were alone.


Then there's third grade, he kissed me right on the cheek on the first day of school. Again, we were "dating," that is, until fifth grade. He said his parents found out and that we were never allowed to date again. And then, since puberty and stuff like that (preteen girls probably know what I mean...), we were pretty shy with each other. But now, as we're seniors in high school, we're up to do anything with each other.


I heard moaning and looked at my window. Zayn looked beat up and bruised. Quickly, I locked my door and put the bed near the window and opened the window up. He fell on the bed.


"Baby, are you okay?!" I asked worriedly. "Who did this to you?!"


"Your d-d-da-dad," he managed to say.


Tears flooded my eyes. They started to sting my cheeks. "Zayn, I'm so sorry."


A banging noise came from my door. "Alright, Oli, I see that you actually were running away with Zayn! Open up thee door!"


I didn't listen to my dad. I barely could; the tears were going backwards into my ears as I looked up, praying to God that Zayn and I would be okay. I found a first aid kit and started to clean up Zayn's bruises. Zayn winced as I cleansed the blood on his blood-filled body with alcohol swabs.


"I know this hurts, just hang in there," I said, managing to soothe him.


"I love you, Oli."


"I love you too, Zayn. Now run!" My dad had opened the door and Zayn jumped out the window, startled, when I said this. I, too, managed to escape.


We ran to his house, jumped into his Ferrari, and sped to the bank. When close, he slowed down to the speed limit.


"I have money," he explained. "Stay here."


He went inside of the bank and--I'm not exaggerating when I say this--came out with about ten bags full of money.


"Hey, we're already eighteen. We can get married now. Have kids...a house. Basically anything we want..."


"Zayn, I feel so wrong doing this, you know, running away? I don't know--it's just...I don't even think I'm the 'good girl' like I used to be. I'm not the shyest one in the back of the class anymore." Zayn raised one eyebrow. "And I like it." He smiled.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...