Camille was left behind by Zayn after his sucessful audition at the xfactor. She felt useless and unwanted. Now, Camile was absolutely gorgeous and has guys practically falling at her feet. She has many friends, but she still feels alone. What will happen when Zayn and Camille get reunited at a totally crazy party?


1. Chapter 1

(If you wanna see Camille's outfit for this chapter, then here ya go :)   )


Camille's P.O.V

"Mom, I can't find my shoes!" 

"Which ones, sweetie?"

"Y'know, the ones with the things! The-the laces--"

"They're by the door."

Things in the Mercer household weren't always like this. Most times, everyone was laid back. Kenia Mercer, my mom, would usually quietly sit at the island in the kitchen sipping on her coffee while my brother, Brady, watched tv in the other room. I would be in my room getting ready for the school day and calmly coming downstairs for the breakfast my mom made and then go to school with my trustee best friend, Jordan. 

Just, not today.

Today was probably one of the biggest days of my senior year. I had to make sure I looked perfect. 

My black hair had to be perfectly curled, makeup perfectly done, outfit perfectly planned. I had no excuse to look bad on picture day.

I had spent so much time on my looks, I lost track of time and was running late.

I ran out of my room, down the stairs, and out the door with my black converse in my hands. As expected, Jordan was already sitting out front in her expensive car, applying more lipstick using her rear view mirror.

"Geez, Camille. It took you long enough." She said, not even looking at me as I got in her car.

I shoved my shoes on. "Yeah, sorry. Lost track of time."

"Well, you look good. Cute dress. But, really? Converse?"

I bit my lip looking down at the relatively clean shoes. 

I was known at school for my style, and in a good way, too. I was kind of like the Aria Montgomery of Colin McEwen High. Jordan was practically the Mona Vanderwaal, except ten times nicer, and not insane. 

"Is it bad?" I asked.

Jordan shrugged, her blonde hair falling off her shoulders in the process. "Not for you, I guess. You can pull off stuff like that, so it's okay. Anyways, let's go. We're gonna be late."


School is always chaotic. 

People are always talking to me in the hallway, and it's hard to get to class on time. Even if I manage to escape the ever-plentiful "Hey, Camille."s and the "You look nice today."s, then I have to deal with the staring eyes of the freshmen and sophomores.

 It's not so bad. Honestly, I like the attention. You get invited to a lot of stuff and you make a lot of friends, I just wish that some people would actually want to be my friend because of my personality, not because I'm popular, or I have cute clothes, or I used to be friends with a famous singer.

Besides, being ex-best friends with Zayn Malik is way more painful than it seems to be. And way less cool.

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