Unexpected Love

My name is Katerina Williams , Kat for short. I moved to London after finishing high school in Bradford. High school was the worst for me because of Zayn Malik. He made it in his best interest to make me miserable. It wasn't always like that though but now.. I have no doubt in my mind that we both hate each other. I thought my luck would change when I moved to "England Arts School," but does it really?
I received the only scholarship to the pleasant-looking college from my music teacher and today is the day I start.Here goes nothing. A fresh start of a new school life.

**Imagine that this was before they got really famous, just after What Makes You Beautiful was uploaded to Youtube and Vevo and before the tour. **

A big thank you to the writer of "Truly, Madly, Deeply" ( I think her username was Harryscoathanger.. cool name by the way) You're book gave me inspiration for this one :)


8. Let's call it a.. WHAT?!

Kat's P.O.V

We opened the door to see Zayn and his friends sitting on the left bed. The girls and I made our way to the right side bed, in silence. The tension in the room was very awkward, no one spoke, no one said a word. 
"So..." Niall began once the girls and I were sitting,facing the boys on the other bed with our back against the wall.
"Hi everybody!" Rosie exclaimed, which caught everyone's attention. She seemed very bubbly and calm but no one decided to say anything back which made her slouch backwards. 
"Umm, so. Kat..." Zayn said sounding nervous for like the first time in years.
"Yeah, Zayn?" I awkwardly replied.. there were a few short seconds of silence until someone decided to break it.
"So. Uh, ladies and gents, let's leave these two to sort things out?" Liam suggested standing up and leading everyone except, Zayn and I, to the door.
"See ya Kat, we'll see you tomorrow, don't worry about things, stay strong!" Rosie farewells and Diana waves goodbye.
"Okay," I whisper and the door shuts.

I start unpacking my bags, everything was so quiet, it was weird.
"Umm. Kat. I just need to say that I'm..." Zayn's voice quieted down, "I'm sorry about.. being so mean.. and treating you so terribly." He finishes.
"Oh. Umm. that's okay. " I said fluffing my pillow up, " one question though"
"Yeah-anything." He smiles but I couldn't smile back.
"Why?" I ask.
"Why? Why do you think?! You started it, by kissing my best friend." His voice rising in an angry-tone.
"Because you.. you.." I said pointing a finger at him, "YOU.." I couldn't say it, not what I was feeling.
"I what? What could I have possibly done that could've hurt you?!" Zayn said without thinking. "Oh- um... ignoring you and everything else." his voice softened and he walked closer.
"Yeah." I looked down so I didn't have to stare at his face anymore.
"I am so sorry, I don't want to argue anymore, we used to be best friends and now that we're out of high school we can be mature."
"Oh you can't think I will just be your best friend in a blink of a second." my voice bellowed through the room.
"No,I don't but the best I can do is call it a truce." he smiles.

Zayn's P.O.V
I felt so bad, she doesn't believe I want to start again, start fresh.. become friends again.
"A truce?" she looks up, her face flustered in pink as if she was about to cry.
"Yes, please. Can we start it all over again?" I ask with hope in my eyes.
"I-uh. Z-Zayn." She stuttered.
"Please." I said and remembered something from when we were kids.
Whenever she couldn't make a decision she'd sing a song.. not any song, a specific song we made up.
"Picking what is right is never enough, you gotta use your head even when it's tough.
Yes or No it's gotta be one you can never say maybe because it ain't fun.

Pick one.. two.. three..." I stop and she smiles.
"Haha, you remember that?" She asked surprised.
"Of course, even though we were apart for a while I could never have forgotten our childhood together.. we were inseparable!" I reasoned.
"Okay. okay. okay. Fine. Truce." She said pulling her hand out of her pocket for a handshake.
"Truce." I smiled and brought out my hand to hers.


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