All is Fair: Zayn Malik Fanfiction

Chapter 7

It is Monday morning. The day I have been dreading for the past month. The day that my dad died. I literally roll off of my bed and onto the floor. I lift my head and look at the clock. 11:00. Shit, I think. I'm late for school. I stumble up to my feet, push the blanket to the ground, and fall back on the bed. Education is not that important.

I grab my phone off my nightstand.

2 new messages

From Charlotte:

Are you okay?

No need to reply to Charlotte, she knows how I am. I throw my phone to the ground without looking at the other message. Distraction is what today is about. It is easier that way, less stress on my part. Half of my body hangs over the edge of the bed. I keep falling in and out of sleep, accompanied with short dreams. The house is eerily silent. It starts to creep me out. I guess that is what happens when you are addicted to crime shows. A shower sounds good right now. I am still wearing yesterday's clothes and makeup. My arms struggle to push me off the bed. Immediately, dizziness overwhelms me, and I search for something to hold onto. After I am able to stand up straight without the shakiness, I start to walk the obstacle course that is my bedroom. I eventually make it to my bathroom, after I trip over a shoe and my backpack.

I turn the knob in the shower and cold water spurts out. I jump out of its way, it is freezing. Once the water heats up, I step forward into it and stand there for a few minutes. Whoever says people should conserve water by taking short showers deserves death. I spend almost a half an hour in there, 25 minutes of it not even doing anything.

I regrettably step out of the shower and look at myself in the mirror. I look like a raccoon. All my makeup decided to run down my face, and even though I just washed my hair, I still do not know what is happening with it. After I dry myself off, I put on a robe and wash my face.

CREAK. What the hell.... I dry my face off. "Isaac?" I call out. He had left earlier this morning with his friends. Maybe he is back now. I wait a second. No answer. I hear it again. I know exactly where the sound is coming from. There is a squeaky floorboard in the kitchen by the sink. Against all that I have learned from horror movies, I walk to the top of the stairs to see what made the sound. I grab my phone in case I need to make an emergency call. As I stand at the stairs, I can hear even clearer. The person in the kitchen is walking around opening and closing all of the cabinets. I clutch the handrail and tiptoe down a few steps to get a better look.

For a second, there are no sounds. Then footsteps continue. My heart is beating like crazy. I look around the stairs to find a possible weapon. All there is is a pair of socks.The person walks into the living room straight across from me so I can see him clearly. "Shit," I say. I jump back a little and trip over a step, landing on my ass. "Zayn, what are you doing in my house?" I yell. I pick up the socks and throw it towards him. I miss by a lot. The socks hit the TV behind him. He watches them pass him.

"Socks?" He says smugly.

I cross my arms. It is not really the best time of year or month to piss me off. I shut my eyes tight and take a deep breath. "You didn't think knocking was necessary?" I respond as calmly as I can.

"I did knock," he says as-a-matter-of-factly. "You didn't hear me so I let myself in."

I'm fuming. "You didn't even tell me you were coming over," I spit.

He furrows his brow. "I'm pretty sure I texted you."

I quickly look at my phone.

1 new message

From Zayn:

I'll be over at 11:30

"I brought you pizza."