All is Fair: Zayn Malik Fanfiction

Chapter 15

I do not want to be nervous, but I keep feeling so. But the thing is, I never wanted any of this in the first place. Harry was very annoying when I met him. So why do I still have butterflies?

Dinner and a movie. Classic. I sort of like it. Harry and I are going to meet at the restaurant. Which is good, he will not find out my home address.

"Tell me all about it," Charlotte says, as I walk out the door.

"Sure." Yeah, right. That never ends up well for me. I guess I will just make something up, pretend it was just ok. It probably will be, maybe even worse.

I drive to the restaurant we decided to meet at and walk inside. I immediately see a curly-haired boy sitting at a booth looking through the menu. I walk up to the table, and he smiles at me.

"How are you?" he asks.

"I'm fine," I sort of snap. I sit down across from him and put my purse to the right of me where he cannot reach it. I do not need to go through that again. "You?"

"I'm great." He sounds sincere, even when I probably sounded like a stuck up bitch. But I did not want this. Then again, I did agree to it myself...

He lays the menu down and focuses on me. I do the exact opposite, forcing my attention on the menu, not really caring about a conversation. He almost immediately pushes my menu down and grabs my right hand.

"W-what are you doing?" I tense up completely. He grabs my other hand, too, holding them delicately, turning them and examining them.

"I like your bracelet and ring. Are you a writer?" he asks in his raspy, deep, but oddly soft voice. He is referring to my quotation mark rings, and my pencil cuff.

"I write... why would you guess that?"

"Well I believe what people have on their bodies tells a lot about themselves."

I stare at the paper airplane necklace dangling over his white t-shirt. "So what about your necklace? Were you the troublemaker in school?" I can easily picture Harry throwing paper airplanes at the teacher. The idea is really vivid in my mind, too. Almost like it actually happened.

"I was... the fun one... I guess," he smiles.

"Ah." The waitress comes to take our order, and we have to tell her we are not ready yet. When she leaves, I still don't pick up my menu.

"How old are you?" he asks.

"What you didn't find that out when you were searching through my phone?" I tease him. He scowls at me. "I'm 21."

"So am I." (A/N: BECAUSE I SAID SO.)

The conversation reaches the point where we need a new subject. "I actually like your tattoos," I bring up. They are pretty cool; I cannot get over the swallows I can see on his chest every time he leans in towards me. They are probably my favorite of what I see.

"Yeah?" he looks at his arms like he just realized they are there. "Do they intimidate you?" he smirks.

I shake my head. "The dimple and curly hair make up for whatever small amount of intimidation your tattoos could have possibly had."

"You're lying," he scoffs.

I roll my eyes. The waitress comes back, and I feel awful for not being ready. I scramble to find something on the menu.

"Two plates of tacos, please," he orders for us. The woman scribbles it down and walks away.

"Tacos?"

"They're my favorite food."

I shrug. Harry and I talk some more until the waitress brings us our food. The tacos are really good, too. He pays for us and leaves a decent tip.