Fix You

Chapter 8

Surprise to our readers and my fellow writer, Marie :)))

Haha okay, I know we don't usually write these author's notes, but I was listening to Try Harder by 5SOS and it hit me how much this story can relate to that song. So now we have a theme song! 

Hehe...

*Lucy's POV*

I walked quickly away from Zayn, leaving him in the now falling rain surprised by my words. As if I would cry over him and even worse, let him see it. I think not. That bastard! How dare he call me a twat? He's more of a twat than I am. Big time.

Ugh.

I don't really know if I was disappointed that he didn't followed me to excuse his behavior or because he just didn't followed me like everybody else would have done.

I hate him. I really do. He pisses me off in so many ways that I can't even count them. All his freaking tattoos which I wish I had, the fact that he looks beautiful even though he's a poor boy who always wears the same clothes, his surprisingly good taste in music, that I'm attracted to him!! I mean, what the fuck is wrong with me? I haven't been thinking about anything else than him all night and when I saw him with those two sluts... Just ew. And he's nothing like me, not at all, more like the opposite. I'm rich, he's poor. I have blond hair with blue eyes filled with emotions, he has black hair and golden brown, cold eyes. I have loads of friends and love being social, he has one friend and I've never seen him outside school which probably means that he spends most of his time in his flat.

Stop thinking about him!!

It's just, how can he judge me like that? He doesn't knows that my parents aren't there for me, that I was almost raised by my maids. He doesn't knows about my sister. He knows nothing.

Okay I need some more alcohol.

"Have you seen Abby?" I asked some random person when I came back to the party.

"Abby?"

"Abigail Foster? Duh" I hissed irritated.

"Oh, yeah, she went somewhere with that Justin dude"

"Great" I mumbled and turned around to go to the bar alone when a hand found its way around my wrist.

"Maybe you wanna dance?" the guy from before asked.

"Ew, no" I tugged at my arm but the boy didn't let go "Get off"

"I asked quite nicely if you wanted to dance, gorgeous. When someone ask a nice question like that, you say yes"

I didn't think of the fact that this guy could be bad to argue with, nope, all I thought was that Zayn was the only one who could call me that.

"Don't call me that" I spat and gave him my best killer eyes.

"That's not something for you to decide. Now go dance with me"

"I said no" I said a bit louder, hoping that someone would hear me and tell the guy to back off "Who are you?"

"Mike, I don't go to your school and most of the boys around here knows who I am so they won't help you. Gorgeous"

Okay I might be a bit scared now, but c'mon, there's a lot of people around here, he wouldn't do anything. And besides that, he could be bluffing, who knows?

I looked around and saw that almost everybody was obviously avoiding to look at the two of us. Seriously? 

"One dance" I stated a bit unsure and made my made onto the dance floor with him in tow, still holding my wrist pretty tight. I decided to just go for it, thinking that if I gave him what he wanted, a dance, he would leave me alone afterwards.