“I’m not sure.”
His tanned forearm flexes against the white desk as he writes his latest answer on the page.
“Oh?” I erase the little flower I drew in the top corner of my page before Mr Robson comes over to collect our answers and tells me off again for doodling over my work. “I’ll be there. Waiting for my brother to finish basketball.”
I wasn’t going to say anymore, but the bell rings and desperation tightens my chest. My next words are spoken with a flourish. “I would really love for you to come keep me company.”
With that, I leave my work behind, grab my books and all but fly out of the classroom before he can respond, my cheeks leaving a trail of blazing heat behind me.
I’ve beenat the gazebo for a whole fifteen minutes and have all but given up any hope of Zayn coming when I finally hear footsteps.
“You came,” I smile over at Zayn as he approaches, and when he makes it to the gazebo, he swings his bag down next to mine. He sits close enough to me that when I look up into his guarded eyes, I can now see that they’re not black but a deep, dark chocolate brown.
“How could I not?” He asks gruffly, looking away to lean forward and prop his forearms onto his knees. “You asked so nicely.”
I pull the sleeves of my jumper down to cover my goosebumps, even though I know they’re not caused by the cold. I’m not sure the next words out of my mouth are the right ones, but I feel like I need to clear the air anyway.
“About the other afternoon-” I start, but Zayn quickly cuts me off.
“Please, don’t mention it.”
“Okay,” I hesitate. “But I just want to say sorry,” I rush out anyway.
He looks at me with a raised brow. “I said don’t mention it. Besides, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I do. I didn’t defend you.”
“It’s not your job to. You don’t even know me.”
I look down to my lap at my clasped hands. “Maybe I want to.”
I fiddle with a loose thread inside my sleeve.
“Want to what?” He asks slowly, and even though I feel his gaze burning a hole into my cheek, I can’t meet his eyes.
“Know you.”
I’ve never had a boyfriend before. Never even had a crush. My body has never responded to anyone before like it does to Zayn, and all I know is that I don’t want this feeling to end. Ilikehow it feels to be around him.
He intrigues me, and I want to get to know him better, if he’ll let me.
“Gianna,” he starts slowly, and I get the crushing feeling that I’m about to be let down. “I don’t think- ,” He stops, leans forward, runs his fingers through his already messy black hair. “I don’t think that being seen with me is the kind of attention you want.”
I stare at him.
“What?”
“I’m-” He hesitates again, then lets out a resigned sigh and slumps his shoulders. “I’m poor. Like can’t afford lunch, poor. I’m only able to attend this school because I got in on scholarship. My mum’s an addict. My dad isn’t around. You seem to be the only person that doesn’t know this.”
His voice is low, detached, as though he’s speaking about someone else. My heart sinks for him and the hardships he obviously has to live with every day, but the live current that’s been singeing over my skin since the first moment I laid eyes on him is still as present as ever. If he thinks his revelation is going to deter me, then he’s wrong about me. Nothing about his situation is his fault. None of this makes him a bad person, just a very unlucky one.
“So?” I ask, my voice choking over the lump forming in my throat. “What does that have to do with me getting to know you?”
He glances over at me, emotionless, as his eyes cast over my face.
“Do you want to get to know me?” I then ask shyly, realising that I haven’t actually asked him what hewants.
He glances away, his jaw clenching as he gives me a single nod. The butterflies take flight.
