The Nanny - Zayn Malik | ✓

Chapter 2

^ Our god as himself.

ABIGALE

When I arrive home from the office, I notice that dad isn't home anymore. He probably left right after the phone call I gave him. I really need to discuss some things with him before I leave. Which is suddenly tomorrow and now he's nowhere to be found. Just my luck.

I run to my room and directly search for my suitcase. When I find it in my closet, I throw it on my bed and start packing my clothes. I make sure to leave a pyjama for tonight and some fresh clothes for tomorrow. I'm going to wear this black pencil skirt with a white blouse above it. The typical look I've got in my mind for a nanny that works with a rich family. It might be a stereotype, but I want to look presentable anyways. I picked out my only pair of pumps I own and placed them next to the pile of clothes. These were the only neat, business-like clothes I own. Everything else in my closet consists out of a few jeans, t-shirts and sweaters. I love being comfy.

After packing all my things I feel tired, so without waiting for my dad I change into my pyjama and go to bed. I'm not sure whether I'm going to miss this bed or not? How will my room look there? Will it be big? Small? The adventure I'm about to start frightens me and excites me at the same time.

My thoughts drift back to the family I'll be spending my summer with. So many girls would kill to be in the same spot as me. Especially being in the same house as Zayn Malik, the hearththrob who was daily discussed about at my school. His nickname being the pantydropper. Cringe.

I heard the Maliks are troublemakers though. First there were 4 children, but the oldest apparently moved out or at least that is what the papers told me.

Yes, the papers, they are that famous in England.

The oldest in the house is Zayn. He is known for all the hearts he has broken during the relatively short spawn of him being on this earth. Another things which he is infamous for is his fighting and trouble making all around Bradford. Luckily for him his looks are quite irresistible which helped him out of trouble a lot.

His two siblings are Waliyha and Safaa Malik. They are the two youngest daughters of Patricia Malik. There isn't much I know about them expect for the fact that they are the most spoiled brats in Bradford, again something I read in the paper. Papers aren't the most believeable sources, but I guess I'll find out the truth soon.

I yawn and let sleep take over.

»»»

I wake up because of a loud noise coming from the kitchen. I get up and leave my room to see what's happening. There I see my dad squatting in front of the fridge with his hands in his hair, desperately pulling on the roots.

"What are you doing?" I ask, walking over to him. He looks up from the ground and slowly stands up.

"Since you're leaving, I've got to learn how to make breakfast myself, right?" He says sheepishly, making me feel bad already about leaving him alone for the coming two months. I surprisingly look at him as he scratches the back of his neck. He opens his arms and I walk into them hugging him tightly. It has been a while since the last time we did this. I enjoy it.

"Thank you, dad." I say while pulling away. "Thank you for trying."

He simply shakes it off as we both seat ourselves at the table.

"When are you leaving?" He asks after some comfortable silence.

"In about an hour." I reply. I notice that he didn't expect me to leave this soon. I take a bite from the apple I took from the fruit bowl resting on the table.