I Won't Mind (Zarry)(boyxboy)

//1//

I roll over and angrily turn of my alarm. The only thing that reminds me of a new day in hell. I begrudgingly climb out of the lovely confines of my bed and sigh.

Another day.

Another day of shit.

Another day of bullshit.

Another day of stupid shit.

Another day of Harry Fucking Styles.

Ugh. Harry.

He honestly puts me in a state of disequilibrium: How can someone so beautiful be such an ass? I sometimes believe its a personal problem,like how the mean kids in books always have. That or he's just an ass.

I brush the thoughts away as I mentally prepare myself by chanting "Last day of Senior Year" as I go through the motions of getting ready for school.

I settle for my usual attire of dark clothing.
As I shower I begin to think of my family. Do they miss me? Has my name ever burned through their minds like theirs does in mine? Or am I a whisper, a soft spoken memory that faded evolutionarily over time?

I hope they've forgotten me.

I grab my car keys and leave my lonely apartment. Its a very short drive to the high school I attend.
Holderville High School is the exact place that ruined me. It turned everyone against me within the first month and I've never wanted to leave somewhere so bad.
I stare at the entrance to the school for a few minutes before climbing out of my car. I slowly approach watching peoples' reactions. No one acknowledges me. I know whats coming and sadly no matter what I do its gonna happen. Its no stopping it.

Harry's planned a prank.

Harry's pranks are most likely the cruelest things he can conceive, mixed with the opinion of his equally appalling best friend, Louis Tomlinson. Their pranks so far have range from tagging my locker to even throwing rocks at me as I walk to my car. But his pranks have a pattern.

They get worse every time.

Not to mention its the last day of school.

I felt my heartbeat increase as I approached the door. I threw it open and walked in. So far so good. I walked down the hall to my locker and put in the combination. Just as soon as I opened it, it was slammed shut in my face. I jumped back in shock and looked upon Harry's towering six foot stature.

"Hello Weirdo." He snarled. I frowned up at him.

"Still not gonna speak huh? To good to interact with the rest of us 'normal folk'?"
He asks as I look away from his vivid green eyes and meander past him. I continue my way down the hall until Harry says something that freezes me in my place.

"Its okay Zayn. Don't respond. Your mom already said enough." I whirl around to face him, my heart beating faster than before at the mention of my parent. The smirk on his face does nothing to soothe me either.

He points to the schools announcement TV and my eyes travel there. And there they are.

My parents.

The video plays and the interviewer begins to question my mom.

"Dr.Malik, you and your husband are well known and admired by many for your amazing breakthrough for the cure to AIDS. Tell me how do your children feel about having an amazing mother? How many children do you have again?" He asks her.

"Im a mother of three, three daughters and they were so supportive throughout the time I was doing my research....." I tune out her voice.

My heart hurts as the words destroy my mind. Three daughters. This is the first time I've watched my own mom disown me. It is also the first time Harry has publicly humiliated me. I watch the people around me snicker and I feel my eyes well up with tears. This is new emotion for me. Its been locked away for years. I never cry. Even when my family abandoned me, I never shed a tear. But this. This constant reminder that I never fitted in my moms 'perfect family' , that I wasn't good enough for her hurts me.

I quickly leave Harry and the scene he created. I dodge into the nearest bathroom and get myself together. So what my family doesn't want me because I'm different. Being naturally quiet doesn't mean I'm strange. Plus its already happened. There's no point in crying over the past.

I continue to calm myself until the warning bell rings. I grab my books and approach my class two doors down. I quietly slip in just as the bell rings. I traipse to the back and slide into my seat as my English teacher begins talking about fulfilling life's purposes and our bright futures. As he begins to drones on, I lay my head on the desk in frustration.

I hate Harry Styles.

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