Beautiful

Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

Elle's POV 

He shows up late, though I don't mind. We weren't doing much anyway. Just shooting around.  

After half an hour, we're released. I jog over to get my bag. I thank Charlotte for bringing me again and tell her I'll walk.  

"Hey!" I tell Zayn as we walk out the door.  

"Hey. How'd it go?" he asks.  

"The normal." He nods. "So? Let's go get lunch. On me," I offer.  

"Are you sure?" he asks nervously.  

"Positive! I really just need some water and I'll be good," I say with a laugh. For some reason, I'm hyper and giddy today. I know I didn't drink anything. So I guess it's just a natural feeling in the freedom of summer.  

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, sensing my frivolous attitude.  

"Yup!" I reply. He shakes his head in a manner as if he's saying "Wow".  

We walk in silence to the place the team usually goes to after a big game. We always hang out at this place that serves basically anything.  

We both order what we want and talk. I feel other eyes looking at me. Then I realize I'm still in my short and tight shorts and my cut out shirt with my tank showing. My cheeks start to flush as I know I can't cover up well since I forgot my hoodie at home.  

I catch Zayn's glance at the guys who are staring at me. He gives me his jacket as he sees the cause of their suggestive looks.  

"Thank you," I tell him. He nods and looks back to me and nods in acknowledgement.  

His jacket is much too big for me. The sleeves hang loose off my arms since I'm so small. But it's warm nonetheless. And it smells like him.  

"I hate when guys do that. Stare at a girl like she's easy," he mumbles.  

"I know. It sickens me to know that they think I am!" I reply.  

Did he just have a protective/jealous moment...?  

No. Couldn't have. Right? 

"Anyway. How's your eye? It's looking better. And so is your cheek," I comment, noticing the fading blue and healing gash.  

"It still hurts but that's expected," he answers calmly.  

He's been such a mystery to me. Why isn't he, like, opening up to me? Does he not trust me yet? Have I given him a reason to distrust me? I just want to sit him in a quiet room and make him talk. I want to know why he's so defensive of me. Maybe he has a sister or a close cousin. Or maybe even an old friend. In most experiences, there's a trigger to behavior. What is his trigger? 

A devious plan starts to form in my mind as we talk a while longer. Eventually we leave and I let my mentally plan replay. This has to be right.  

"I should be getting back early today. I'm needed to do some things. See you around," he says.  

"I'll text you sometime!" I reply.  

Perfect.  

He starts to leave. I remind him of his jacket. He tells me to keep it and bring it back some other time. I smile to myself.  

I run home, since it's only a short distance, and throw my bag on the kitchen floor after I unlock the door.  

My mum isn't home now that they have her working two shifts everyday for a while. So she had no real need to worry.  

I quickly run back and find him slowly walking in the same direction he was previously. I stay a good fifty feet away as I follow him. I guess we'll find out if curiosity kills the cat.  

I trail behind as he starts to walk to his house. The walkway is cracked in small places and the porch is in desperate need of repairs. It's a faded blue with some random marks here and there, as all houses look. It's obviously been through some good and bad, but all in all, it doesn't look as awful as everyone at school made it to be. Though an older vehicle sits in the driveway. I assume it's his uncle's.  

I sneak around and find several pieces of dark colored glass. Alcoholic. I search even more and find butts of cigarettes. Obviously a smoker.  

But what does this add up to? 

I hear a loud crash from inside and some yelling. I don't think it's Zayn. Considering I've never exactly heard him yell, I automatically assume it's anyone but him.  

What is going on in there? 

"Worthless!... Mistake!..." I can't hear every word said. I can only hear one or two at a time. Either way, they don't sound very good.  

I hear more shouts. Who is this Zayn goes home to everyday? Then all the pieces slowly come together in my head. I almost have to sit and think. But I remember if I do that, I get caught. If I get caught, I get stuck in the middle of it.  

I should interrogate him sometime. But then he'd know I snooped. I'm afraid he'll get upset with me and never talk to me again. I actually like talking to Zayn. He's probably the only respectful guy I've ever come in contact with. Why ruin the chance by accident? 

I quickly run away to avoid being seen. My legs pump and my feet pound the sidewalk as I relentlessly sprint home. I close the door and put my back to the wood. I slide in the floor with my hands running through my hair.  

This isn't right. This isn't even fair. How am I going to keep this my own secret? How will I help?