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"He lets go of me, looking sadly down at his toes for a moment.
Then his facial expression changes and it goes hard.

He looks over his shoulder to make sure no one is looking, and then he graps my arm, hard, and pushes me up against the nearest wall. I feel the cold, hard brick wall against my back and Zayn is like 3 cm from my face. His hands are resting on the wall on either side of my head.
I cannot move and I feel completely trapped. I can feel his body heat and his hot breath on my face.
I shiver. He scares me, but at the same time he is god damn sexy.

"Who have you talked to? Are people talking?" How does he even expect me to answer this when he's literally crushing me up against a fucking wall?"

A fanfiction about a new girl and the bad boy, Zayn Malik.


9. Bad

I completely drop my jaw and look over at Harry, who confirms what Louis has just said by nodding. He won't look me in the eyes. 

"Wha.. No of course he didn't that's mental! And besides, then he would be in jail right now! Why would you even say that!?" 

I'm frustrated and mad at them for saying something so screwed about another person. Like straight out calling him a murderer!? 

They don't answer, not any of them, they just stare at me - even Niall who has now finished his pack of crisps. He folds the bag until it's a little cube.

"It's the truth, and you asked for it," Niall says in a lazy voice and shrugs. 

They are not lying, I can see that, but they have to be wrong. 

"Ok then, explain," I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows. 

Louis and Harry don't budge, so I pick Niall as the weak link and stare him down. His eyes flicker around.
In any other situation, that would be cute. 

"Spill it, you can't just accuse someone of being a murderer and don't tell me why, just because you don't like them," 

"We're not jealous of him if that's what you're saying," Louis clenches his fist, and looks disgusted. They must really hate Zayn.

Obviously they won't just tell me, so I use different methods. 

"Maybe that is what I'm saying," I give all 3 of them a mocking smile. Hoping that this will make them provoked enough to spill it. They wouldn't wanna lose face to Zayn would they?

For a second none of them answer.

"Of what? His pretty face? That he get's more girls than us? Pff," Louis says back trying to hide his insecurity using sass. He glance at Harry and blush. 

Eventually Niall gives in.
"Ok here we go.. Zayn has always been a trouble maker. At first it was just harmless tricks, and he even skipped a grade - mostly for his bad temper if you know what I mean, and the fact that he was a real brat,"

So that would make him 18.. 

"In an early age he got into drinking and partying, and he found interest in girls, and made new friends. Bad friends," he paused, collecting his thoughts. 

"He spend alot of time at the police station.. for things like drunk driving, violent behavior, doing graffiti.. all those kinds of things. He never really got arrested or anything. He's good at talking," 
I listen, while playing with my nails as if none of this bothers me in any way. 


Niall kept going: "But then he got into drug dealing.. and things got serious. I don't know details, but he didn't get on well with his bosses. Then one day Zayn had a meeting with one of them, because Zayn hadn't paid him, and the guy was later found at a parking lot stabbed to death," 


I feel suddently sick to my stomach. In my head I imagine Zayn with a knife in his bloody hands, staring at the lifeless body of a young male laying on the ground in front of him. Bleeding to death.
Harry place one of his big hands on my shoulder for comfort. I don't brush it off.

"How.. How can you be sure it was him?" I still don't wanna believe that he would be capable of something like.. murder.


"Well.. The next day he went to school with a bruised eye and a cut in his eyebrow. But he had a solid alibi - he said he was studying at a friends house. I don't know who, but he must have covered for him. All charges were dropped, though almost the entire school knows that he did it. The police as well, but they have no prove, because they never found the knife,"



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