04 | ᴢᴀʏᴅ

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I groan mentally to shake off the feeling of her body in my arms. I should be fucking disgusted, for fuck's sake.

Why in the hell wasn't I?

God knows why I did that in the first place. The image of her body flushed against mine flashes in my mind. The loose clothes she wore didn't do justice to her body. I groan again. What the fuck is wrong with me?

For fuck's sake, I finally get attracted to a girl and it has to be her? Out of a hundred girls who are what people find beautiful?
Motherfucker.

"I had started to think you were gay, you sure liked smacking our ass," River tells me, his eyes are shining. I clench my jaw and give him a murderous glare.

"Shut the fuck up," I say gruffly before leaning back in my seat. Chase looks at the exchange with somewhat curious eyes. He's the quiet one of the group, always busy in his world.

This is the most interest he's ever shown. Noticing my eyes on him, he goes back to ignoring us, glaring at the table in front of him.

Other than River, the only guy I tolerated was Chase for this same reason. He minded his own fucking business. I hate being questioned.

The cafeteria is bustling as always. The other guys, who don't have their tongues inside the throat of girls in their laps or sides, are talking about our next football match. I put my elbows on the table and run my hand over my hair.

Until I spot Alya.

She's all alone, I pity her. Poor girl doesn't even have friends. She is looking at her lap, her tray is sat in front of her. Her finger lazily taps over the table, in a slow rhythm.

She's sitting in the table next to the trash. She deserves this, perhaps.

Sensing my eyes on her, she lifts her head and looks at me in the eye. Her eyes widen when I smirk, she searches my face for any clue as to what I am about to do. Even at the distance, her green eyes shine bright.

Such beautiful eyes wasted on an ugly girl like herself. Ugly, yes, that's what she is. And her petite frame, so frail that you'd be afraid you'd break her if you held her too tight. Moreover, she was bald.

Ugly, like I said.

I feel my smirk deepening at my plan. She looks away and just before she does, I notice the scared look on her face. No, she wasn't that obvious but the way she was looking at me, I could tell.

We share the next class, Alya and me. So, instead of going out for some cigarettes with Chase and River, I walk to Alya's locker with determination.

"Zayd," a sultry voice makes me halt. I raise one of my eyebrows and give Charlotte a lazy look.

"There's a party at my house tonight, will you come?" Charlotte flutters her eyes at me and I mentally cringe when she places her hand on my forearm. I shake her hand off.

"No."

"Why?" Her face falls and I scoff.

"Because I don't want to. Fuck off." I was busy tonight, I had a match. Besides, high school parties weren't my definition of fun. My definition of fun included a pair of boxing gloves.

With that, I resume on my way to Alya's locker.

I lick my lip and stare at her from afar. Alya takes out her books and is about to close her locker when I'm behind her. I eye the headscarf keenly. I bite my lips to stop myself from smirking.

Sensing me behind, Alya turns around. Her green eyes widen at our proximity, her cute little nose scrunches at the smell of cigarette probably. I had taken one before lunch.

She tries to push me away and to piss her further, I take a step forward. With an evil grin, I put one of my hands on the locker, beside her head. She attempts to push me away, poor little girl. Her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. Aw, look at that- she's blushing.

My other hand grabs her headscarf. I chuckle slightly at her widened eyes and before she knows it, I tug it away from her head and throw it on the floor.

The sight before me makes my heart stop.

Loose brown curls frame her face. No, she's supposed to be bald. No, no no. Why does she look so- so fucking.. exotic? Her hair is chocolate brown in colour, the loose curls around her face compliments her tan skin. Her widened green eyes look at me, her nose flares. A strand of hair falls over one of her eyes.

She's supposed to be fucking bald.

This time, when she pushes me away, I let her. I wanted to embarrass her. Did my plan backfire?

Alya bends down and picks up her black headscarf. She rushes down the hallway, wiping her cheek by the back of her hand. Her long braid bounces on her back as she walks away. She was.. crying?

Maybe my plan didn't backfire after all.

The crowd around dismisses as soon as I look at them.

It was just a headscarf, right? She had no fucking reason to cry. I had done far worse things and she had never shed a single tear. Moreover, girls were probably jealous of her hair. Why didn't she want to flaunt it around like other girls?

No matter what, I got my revenge. A heaviness settles in my chest and I walk outside. Was I feeling gui- no.

I need a cigarette.

. . .

I think about ditching my biology class. However, I share this class with Alya. And, I'd love to see how she'll react when she sees me after the little stunt I pulled. I wouldn't want to miss it for the world.

I enter the class and walk to the empty seat at the back of the class. Mr Green glares at me and I glare right back, daring him to say something. He visibly gulps and turns his attention to the class. I spot Alya at the middle of the class, her headscarf is back on her head.

"Alya? Looks like you don't have to do the project by yourself after all."

The class becomes silent, everyone knows where this is going. Mr Green momentarily stops at me, his eyes glinting somewhat evilly.

"Zayd will be your partner."

Fuck.


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