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There's a knock on my door. "Juul?" Zayn's voice. I don't respond. "Juul?" I don't want to respond. I remain seated, against the wall, with my sleeve up, staring at the stain. The door opens, I still don't respond. I stay where I was already. Zayn walks up to me. "How did you get that?!" He asks startled and he grabs my arm. What should I say? "Style tongs." I lie. "Someone was styling his hair at school and I got him on my arm." I'll add when I see the twist in my hair. "Ouch." I hear from Zayn that he has doubts. "Around for a hair straightener." He mumbles, letting go of my arm and sitting down next to me. "I know." I mumble back. it's quiet for a while, but not uncomfortably quiet. I pull down my sleeve and Zayn stares straight ahead. "You know, I was shocked too." Zayn begins after a while of silence. "A year away from home, that's a long time."

"Tell me what..."

"Yes... But yes... Luckily I can be home for Christmas." Zayn tries. "Wow, two days!" Well organized Zayn." I say sarcastically. Zayn sighs and stands up, probably thinking there's nothing to talk to me after all. "I'm going downstairs." He walks towards the door. "Zayn?" I ask as he opens the door He turns around. "When are you going?" I ask, noticing that my voice is hoarse. "In two weeks already." two weeks?!" "But then you still have two weeks to practice, make sure the tickets are sold out and everything?" I try, like it matters. "These two weeks are going to be busier than others, I admit. And we knew there was a tour coming, just not when or where to. So we've already practiced all the songs... And I'm not too worried about the tickets yet, last time it sold out really fast." He smiles weakly. "Okay." I mumble. "More questions?" I shake my head. "Okay, then go I'll go downstairs." I nod, Zayn leaves. I'm alone again.

After a while, my mother knocks on the door. the food is ready, like I'm hungry now! "I'm not hungry." I say, not looking up from my now packed magazine. "You have to eat, Juul." I shrug. I don't need anything. And according to Emma and Tara, I can shed a few pounds, so that's a nice bonus. "Come on." My mother tries again. "I want to talk to you too." I look up from my magazine. "About what? About Zayn? No thanks." I say firmly. "About school." The word school scares me. "How so?" I try to be as casual as possible. "I got a call that you have to come to school tomorrow the first hour. That you argued with a teacher." We get this again. "I don't think that's for you." My mother sounds concerned. "He started." I snap. I get up and walk past my mother out of my room. "Are we going to eat?"

When I get down there's a Zayn to be seen. "Is Zayn gone?" I ask, waiting a bit for the answer he is with the boys or Perrie. "He's with Perrie, talking about the tour and stuff." My mother serves me a plate of food. "Can we have a chat without Zayn around?" She continues doubtfully. "Okay." I mumble as I poke a potato with my fork. "You're not like that, Juul." Does my mother's voice tremble or does it just seem that way? "because I once had a big mouth at a teacher?! Let me too!" I snap. "It's not just that...you've been acting so distant lately, and this too. Your grades have deteriorated, I've seen. And Zayn saw a burn mark on your arm." My mother continues. Damn it, Zayn. "That's from someone's hair straightener at school, did I mention it." I stick to the story. "Okay." Sigh my mother. "I just don't feel like going to school anymore, always the same shit." I take a bite of my peas. "Juul!"

"Yeah what? You wanted me to be honest, didn't you?!" My voice skips. I get angry, not at Mom, but at the situation. To Emma and Tara, who made the class ignore me, make me feel shitty every day. I take a deep breath to calm myself. I save that. "I'm upstairs, listening to music." I leave my mother stunned.

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740 words

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