Chapter Eleven: Something Nice

I Walked out of Zayn's car thoughtlessly.

Nothing was right about Milan Mayfield leaving Zayn Davenport's car. In the morning. Laughing at his dumb rendition of let it go.

People were staring unabashedly.

"Is it me or we're getting weird looks?" I muttered to Zayn. He shrugged.

"It's just you Millie"

Zayn was enjoying it. His stride was extra prideful and his expression too endearing. For the show, he made an effort to grab my backpack.

“Hold on, Cinderella” I maintained my grip on my bag, winning the tug of war. Then again, Zayn was an athlete which I was not.

My purple little backpack looked odd against his large body. It was almost adorable.

“You shouldn't do that, don't you think. You just broke up with Lorraine and people are going to get ideas” Wrong ideas.

I was running after Zayn. The bastard with his useless long legs was taking steps which I could only leap to catch up with.