It was now about 8 in the morning and the road was clear. In the distance there were a few cop cars with flashing lights. One of the men dressed in navy uniforms were waving their one hand in the air while pointing to the side of the road next to him. Zayn groaned and obeyed the officer's orders. He rolled down his window and greeted him.
"Howdy Sir!" Zayn chirped in a strong american accent. I looked at him but he seemed to shrug off my stare.
"Morning Partner, say, can I see some license and ID please?" The man didn't seem to see anything suspicious about their conversation. Zayn pulled out the little green booklet from his pocket and handed it to the policeman. The man accepted the ID without hesitation. He looked at the paper and nodded.
"Have a great day then Jack."
"Same to you too Sir." Zayn said in his surprisingly great western accent.
"Jack? American? Zayn, if that's even you're real name. What the hell is going on?"
"What accent? Just leave it. It's not important anyway."
"Really? Not that important? If it's not that important why do you carry around a fake ID pretending to be some small town cowboy yelling 'Howdy Sir!' at the police, probably illegally adressing himself as Jack? Who are you?" I was almost yelling at this point. I don't even think that he is in college here in Browndell.
"Why do you care anyway? You don't know me at all."
"Zayn, why do you need the money?" I asked, really hoping for an honest answer.
"I'm not telling you anything." He protested. I crossed my arms and huffed out in annoyance. He was being so stubborn again. I think it's reasonable too say that I was not feeling safe in his presence anymore.
"I don't feel safe around you Zayn Malik." I spoke my thoughts.
"That's a good thing, because you shouldn't, Carter."
"Why are you making this so difficult?"
"What am I making difficult? If anything you are the one that's being difficult. Why don't you just leave me alone?" He stated.
"This is going to be one hell of a ride 'Jack'..." I muttered to myself more than anyone else.
"How do you even have a loyal boyfriend?" He laughed.
"Excuse me?" I asked, clearly offended.
"You heard me! I have been in this vehicle with you for a day, and I already can't stand you. How does the poor guy tolerate you 24/7. You should thank God that you are pretty. I bet you he's gay, or you are the reason he moved. It's not like he can't get a job in London?" He laughed some more at his funny little 'jokes'.
"What?" I asked, tears stinging my eyes, like the pricking of a thousand needles against your skin. He paused his fun making session and looked at me.
"Too far?" He asked, his smile banishing from his pink, plump lips.
"Take a guess Asshole." I spat, the words dripping off my tongue like poison as I turned my body to face the window.
"I didn't mean it like that." He tried to apologize but the words escaped my mind. Similar as to how water flows off a duck's feathers.
"Oh please! How else could you have meant it?" I asked, full on crying right now.
"I-I I don't know." He said as he fixed his eyes on the road again.
"Prick." I whispered.
"Bitch." He mocked me.
"Now we both understand why you don't have a girlfriend either. Not even that great looks can make a girl overlook that horrible personality you were cursed with. And believe me, you are not that bad looking."
"I guess I deserved that." he nodded.