At the end of the day I head out the front doors and begin walking home. I am already dreading the 3 mile walk, but I have no choice. My mom won't be able to pick me up if I call her, and I have no friends to drive me. I look at my surroundings as I walk. I'm about a block away from the school. I have only made like, two trips to the school, so I'll be lucky if I don't get lost in the first place. I really wish the principal would let me at least get my stuff out of my car, or drive it home and give my mom my keys, but he said when my mom can, she has to get my car. He said, if she gives my keys back, she will be charged along with me.
Gosh, I already hate this school. I hate Mr. Ricky, or whatever the hell his name is.
I hate the people there.
I hate Zayn. He doesn't know me and he judges me. He has done nothing but push me around, and talk crap about me.
Well, except for when he brought back the paper I dropped. And when he tried to comfort me today. Well, was thinking about comforting me.
What was that about anyway? His random acts of kindness made no sense to me.. Why did he do that when it's obvious that he doesn't like me? I don't know. Bi-polar maybe? We'll go with that.
I am about 5 blocks away from the school when I hear a motorcycle coming from behind me. I expect the sound of it to get louder as it approaches me, but I notice it gets quieter. It's pulling over.
I turn to look and I see Zayn's tan skin through his helmet.
"What do you want?" I ask him harshly. "Why do you seem to find me all the time? We've known each other for about two days and your mood swings are giving me whip lash." I add crossing my arms.
"Damn, I was going to offer you a ride." He says just as harsh. My eyes soften at the offer. Once again, a random act of kindness from him. I shouldn't expect it to happen often.
"On that thing? No way. I'd rather not die in an accid..." I trail off at the thought of me getting in an accident and us both dying. No, I don't want to see anyone else die, and I sure don't want to have another near-death-experience. Motorcycles are deathly dangerous and I will not get on one with someone as reckless as Zayn. He seems like a reckless person.
"Don't be a pussy. Plus, I know how far away your house is. I'm not going to let you walk like, 5 miles. It's dangerous and stupid." He states. He holds his helmet on his lap between his legs.
I must admit, I like this side of him. It's a completely unexpected mood from him, and he looks pretty hot on a motorcycle. He wears a leather jacket, black skinny jeans, and a white shirt like the one he wore yesterday. I like it.
"If it makes you feel better, you can wear my helmet." He adds, smirking in a teasing way. I feel embarrassed by how weak I sound.
Come on, I tell myself. It's just a dang motorcycle.
What's the worst that could happen?
You could crash and die. My subconscious tells me and I mentally duct tape her mouth shut.
I sigh in defeat and drag my feet as I walk towards him. He smiles at his victory and stands from his bike. I wonder what he's doing, when suddenly his helmet is placed over my head. He looks concentrated as he fixes the buckle on the bottom.
"Alright," He starts as he grabs my shoulders. "Get on." He instructs as he takes a seat on the bike. I sit behind him and my heartbeat picks up.
And not because I'm scared. I'm so close to him, I don't know if I like it or hate it. It's kind of awkward and I don't know where to put my hands. Before I can ask, He reaches back, grabs both my hands, and wraps my arms around his waiste.
"Please, don't get me killed." I ask of him and he laughs.
"Im serious, Zayn. You have no idea how freaked out I am right now!" I scold and Look him in the eyes through the rear-view mirror. He just laughs again and I roll my eyes.
He starts the bike up.
"Ready?" He asks me smirking again.
He drives off anyway, and with a fast start might I add. I yelp at the sudden force of movement, making myself an even bigger joke to Zayn.
"I'm glad you find my fear funny." I sarcastically remark.
"I don't just find it funny. I find it cute." He answers and his expression goes from laughing, to nervous. He obviously didn't mean to say that out loud.
I decide to save him the humiliation and change the subject for the sake of his burning cheeks I can see through the mirror. He takes the first turn the my house and I whimper and tighten my arms around his torso. I hide my face in his back, so I don't have to see what's ahead. The whole ride, I spend that way.
"We're almost there." He assures me. He can tell I'm scared out of my mind. Maybe because of the way I'm squeezing him to death, or the way I have my face hidden in his back, or maybe he can feel my heart going 1000 beats per second.
I lift my head when I feel the bike slowing down. We are pulling into my driveway. My mothers car is gone. When we are at a complete stop, He gets off of the bike first. My arms ache from locking my muscles and joints in place, and from my tight grip. When the helmet is removed from my head, I can feel my helmet hair.
I run my fingers through it in hopes of fixing it, but I don't think it worked very well. I get off of his bike and have to catch my balance.
"Never again." I think I'm telling myself that more than him.
"Were you trying to crush my insides or...?" He questions me grinning.
"Yeah. Payback for making me drop everything." I joke.
He fake gasps.
"Did Britney Young just make a joke? I can't believe it." He states acting shocked.
"Don't expect it to happen again." I tell him smiling a little.
"I won't. I'm surprised you even got on a motorcycle." He confesses and I blush.
"Why?" I ask, even though I know the answer.
"You're so stiff. I can tell you don't know how to let loose." He tells me and I glare at him.
"Trust me, I wasn't always like this." I confess, sighing and looking down.
"What do you mean?" He asks me curiously.
"I used to be the trouble maker. The one who would walk around with a bunch of friends, cuss, let myself get in trouble for running my mouth off to teachers and people at school. Sneak out in the middle of the night type of person." I admit and I can tell he barely believes me.
"I find that hard to believe." He tells me crossing his arms like a teacher scolding a student in class.
"Well, what the hell happened?" He asks waving his hands in the air. I can see why this shocks him. These two days I've known him, I've been quiet and nice. The accident took the fun out of me, and replaced it with depression, sadness, quiet.
I still don't want to tell anyone about the accident and what I did, but I also don't want to lie.
"It's a long story." I tell him, and it's not exactly a lie. He can tell that I'm in an uneasy position, talking about this, so he changes the subject.
"Are you home alone?" He questions me and I nod.
"I guess. My mom won't get home till like 5:00 in the morning."
"Will you be okay?" He seems concerned again. He seems like, he does care about my feelings. This is weird. His mood changes every hour I swear.
"Yeah. It's like this about every day." I answer truthfully. I am used to this.
"Alright. Well I'll see you later, Brit." He tells me and I nod. I like that nickname he gave me.
He gets on his bike, but before he can drive off, I call his name.
"Yeah?" He asks me with confusion written in his eyes.
"Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it." He smiles and answers me happily.
And off he goes.
I walk through my front door, expecting to feel relief that he's gone, but instead I feel lonely. I feel a longing for his presence, a longing for his hands on mine, a longing to see that smirk again. A longing for him to call me cute again.
Maybe he isn't too bad.
A/N- oooOOOOHHHHhhhhH Zayn and Britney are hittin it off eh? eh? Lol. sooo comment, favorite, like, all that jazzz and i love you and i love one direction and i love cookies and yeah. Love you all, thanks for reading! <3 bbyyyee