Double Life


1. Chapter One

The flame burning from my lighter was enough to distract me from the pathetic conversation of my peers behind me. One girl was going on about the party over the weekend while the other one wondered if sleeping with the frat boy made her a slut. Yes. I flicked the flame off and then on again, enjoying the cool of the metal contrasting with the heat radiating off of the flame. 

She walked into the room as if she was scared, looking down at the cover of her pink binder, and I rolled my eyes because it was absolutely ridiculous. Her jeans were a little too loose around her thighs, making her ass look not even half as good as I was sure it could. The sweatshirt she was wearing had to be three sizes too big for her as well and as she took the seat in front of me I found myself wondering what she would look like if I peeled off those layers. 

"Hi," I tap her shoulder, flicking the lighter on again as she turns to me as if she is startled someone is even talking to her.

"Hi?" she says as if a question. I laugh a little and her cheeks turn a shade of pink before she turns back around and starts shuffling through her binder. What does she even have in there? This is the first day of the semester. 

"What's your name, beautiful?" I ask, tapping her on the shoulder again as the flame continues to burn. She turns to me once again with a look of pure annoyance, her blue eyes wide. 

"Y/N," she replies, her cheeks still a slight pink. 

"Zayn," I offer up my hand. She looks up at me through impossibly thick lashes and then at my hand before hesitantly grabbing it. Her hand is soft and smooth in mine and I hold on until she pulls away uncomfortably. The professor walks in and commands her attention in an instant and I find myself smiling as I slouch in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. 


(Y/N’s POV)

I turn around and face the professor as he begins giving us a brief description of the class. I can still feel the heat in my cheeks from the slight interaction with the dark haired boy behind me, Zayn. I didn't want to take the seat in front of him, I knew he would be the type of person to distract the entire class, but of course it was the only seat left by the time I got here. 

I have never been so late to a class in my life, well technically I was still two minutes early but I liked to be at least ten minutes early for everything in my life. My mother, bless her soul, was always late for everything and I guess that rubbed off on me with an opposite influence. 

"So no homework this semester, yeah?" Zayn speaks without even raising his hand. The entire class turns around to see him smirking at the young professor. 

"We meet again, Zayn Malik," the professor actually chuckles and I cannot believe what is going on. Zayn had the audacity to make such a demanding–not to mention rude!–remark in front of the whole class and the professor laughs. "Yes, Zayn, you will have some homework. I promise I won't kill you though."

I turn slightly to look at Zayn again, he is now chuckling and he looks at me and winks. I turn back around in my seat quickly, my face burning, as I try to ignore his overwhelming presence. The professor hands out a syllabus and then reads through each page with us. I highlight the dates of our midterm and final exam and then quickly pencil the dates into my planner. 

"I wouldn't worry about it," I try to ignore his voice so close to my ear. I don't have to turn around to know that he is leaning over his small desk. "He always flakes on the exams. We won't have one."

"And how do you know that?" against my better judgment I find myself interacting with him. Bad move, Y/N. 

"I took another one of his classes last year," Zayn says, tapping his pencil against his desk. I try to block out his interruption. I don't need to listen to this arrogant boy and his helpful tips if I don't want to. "Fine, suit yourself. I'll be sure to say I told you so." 

When class ends I take my time packing my binder back into my messenger bag while the rest of the class grabs their things and basically runs out of the classroom. I am the last one in the classroom and I walk up to the professor just to introduce myself to him. My father encouraged me to make a lasting impression on each of my professors in these next four years and that lasting impression begins now, on the first day. 

"Hello, Professor. I'm Y/N Thomas, I just wanted to get a chance to introduce myself," he looks at me and smiles warmly and I know I am off to a good start.

"Ah yes," he shakes my outstretched hand and I cannot help but notice the contrasting difference between his touch and Zayn's from earlier. Why am I thinking about him? "Miss Thomas, I have to say I was quite impressed with your push to get into this class. Charles Mann is a good friend of mine and he told me you were very adamant about not taking many freshmen classes because of how advanced you are." 

"I'm sure he wasn't so kind," I look down at my hands. I pestered that poor man for the first month of the summer holidays after the freshmen orientation. I was not interested in taking Calculus, or any science labs that I had already sat through in my advanced high school courses. 

"Well at first he wasn't but then he became impressed because you were taking your life into your own hands," he smiles as he finishes organizing his stack of the syllabus into his brown leather brief case. We walk in silence side by side as we both walk out of the classroom and down the hall until it is time for me to turn down a different hall.

"I hope you enjoy my class, Miss Thomas,"

"I am sure I will," I wave a quick goodbye and then turn towards the exit. When I push through the door I am greeted with clear blue skies and a cool breeze to lessen the heat in the air. 

"So you are the type of girl to sleep with the professor? I would have never guessed," I stop short when I hear his voice and sure enough Zayn is walking quickly, trying to fall into step with me. The sleeves of his faux denim shirt are now rolled up and I am not surprised to see ink covering nearly every inch of visible skin from his wrist up. 

"I am not," I say, trying not to give him the satisfaction of an emotional response to his preposterous accusation. He doesn't leave, much to my utter annoyance, and neither of us says a thing as I try and quickly get back to my dorm. 

I inhale the thick smell of cigarette smoke and flashbacks of my mother coming home late from a night at the bar flash through my mind. I turn to Zayn and grab the bud and throw it on the ground. 

"If you insist on stalking me, don't smoke around me," I say with more venom in my tone than even I am surprised I could muster up. He looks at me in obvious shock, his eyes wide and his mouth and hand still frozen as if the bud is still between his lips. 

Thankfully my dorm is just ahead so while Zayn is frozen in place I skip ahead quickly and disappear into the freshman building. I shake off the feeling of cigarette smoke sticking to my sweatshirt and take a deep breath before heading up to my second floor room. 


(Zayn's POV)

I am still thinking about her later that night while I grab another beer from the white cooler on the back deck. People I don't even know are roaming the halls of the house, drinking and trashing the place even though we all have classes tomorrow morning. 

Its nothing new; when classes begin it seems that everyone tries to hold onto summer for as long as they possibly can. Nights will be like this well into next week until we all realize that summer is over and the weekends are the only times suitable for ragers. 

"What's got you so serious?" Niall asks, grabbing the beer right out of my hand. He pops the top, giving me that crooked smile of his that tells me he is just trying to annoy me this early in the year.  His blonde hair is a mess on top of his head, sticking out in all directions instead of falling into place like always. 

"What's got you so happy?" I throw right back at him. He turns around and points to a girl with light brown hair smiling while she whispers to her friends. She looks up and catches us staring and she looks down at the ground with a smile. Niall looks away and starts chuckling, taking a long sip of the cold beer, and I notice the girls face fall when she looks back up to find that he is no longer looking at her. 

"I need a smoke," Niall announces to just me. "Coming?" 

"Yea," we push through the more crowded living room and out into the front yard. Girls walk past us, smiling and giggling as we light up and stand off to the side of the front door. The smoke fills my lungs and I take a moment to let the nicotine run through my veins before expelling the toxin from my body.

As I exhale I think of her grabbing the cigarette right out of my mouth and throwing it to the ground. The girl that looks at her feet as she walks was suddenly in charge, making it known that she is in charge and throwing me for a loop: making me wonder who she actually is. 

"Assholes," Niall and I both turn around to see Harry and his tight black jeans leaning out the door. "We're heading to the bar, want to come?"

We both take one last drag and then throw our nearly dead cigarettes into the flowerpot filled with dirt and other buds.

Harry, Niall and I all walk the few blocks through the college town and to our favorite spot. It's the only bar near campus that is 21 and up so it keeps most of the annoying underclassmen out. We all head right to the bar and I find myself looking at the young bartender. 

She is wearing a tight black shirt that cuts low and exposes a small amount of black lace on the edge of her bra. Her black jeans seem to be painted on her legs, her hips wide and her waist barely there in the right clothing. Her brown hair is tied up and falling past her upper back, short pieces falling out of the ponytail and framing her face. 

"What can I get you?" She asks, grabbing three glasses quickly before looking up at me. She freezes for a moment and her blue eyes go wide. 

"What the hell happened to you?" I ask, meaning to sound sarcastic but instead I sound like Danny Zuko freaking out about Sandy's bad girl transformation. 

"I work here," she puts her hands on her hips as if she doesn't have the time for me and the pose makes her figure even more mouth watering. "Now what can I get you?"

"Gin and Tonic," I say when I recover. She makes us all drinks and then moves onto her next customer; an older guy who is also drooling as he stares at her ass while she turns around to reach up for another bottle of liquor.

"Who is that?" Harry asks, staring at her too. I ignore the unexplainable jealousy I feel as his eyes take in her now very exposed figure. I wonder how an 18 year old freshmen landed this gig but as the older man buys more and more drinks while she flirts with him, his tips get bigger and bigger and I understand.

She barely says a word to me by some miracle, even with me going back up to the bar at any chance I get.

"When did you learn to bartend?" I ask as she pours me what should be my last drink for tonight. 

"Why do you care?" She asks as she puts my drink on the counter and then disappears again.


(Y/N’s POV)

I dread my class Wednesday morning because I know he will be there, ready with a million questions I simply don't want to answer.

Out of all the bars in the small college town, why did he have to choose that one? I specifically took the job because of the 21 and up age limit, I figured I would never run into someone from classes since I was only a freshmen.

I keep my head down as I walk into the classroom, maybe he won't catch me walking in and he'll just leave me alone. I take a different seat, on as far away from where I sat on Monday and think I am in the clear as my classmates fill in all of the seats in the room.

"Why are we sitting over here today?" My shoulders drop as I hear him slide into the seat right next to me and place his single notebook on too of the small, faded brown desk.

"We are sitting no where," I emphasize the we. "You were supposed to stay in your seat over there."

"Y/N, are you avoiding me?" He puts a hand on his chest dramatically and makes a hurt expression, his dark brown eyes glowing with sarcastic humor.

"Not successfully," I mumble under my breath. He chuckles and sits back in his seat as the professor walks in and begins writing quickly on the chalkboard.

By some miracle, Zayn is able to keep his smart mouth shut for the entire hour and a half of class. I write down everything our professor says, highlighting things I think are important as we go.

When class is finally over I have three and a half pages of notes already and I pack up my things to attempt to make a quick exit.

"Are you hungry?" I roll my eyes as Zayn falls into step next to me. My stomach betrays me by grumbling at the thought of food and he smiles proudly. "Let me but you lunch since you took such good care of me and my friends last night. I promise I won't smoke."

I look at him for a long second, trying to decide what his game is. A tatted up boy with a smoking problem and no serious interest in the classes he is paying top dollar for should not have any interest in little me.

"Fine," I groan dramatically and begin walking away quickly, forcing him to jog a little to catch up with me again. 

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