The force of attraction

I hated myself for believing I was such a privileged brat. All I was was Mrs Leblanc's best student. People like Zayn probably had higher positions in that Hierarchy.

Succumbing after mindless back and forth with Mrs Leblanc who had her mind dead set on Thursday, I backed off with the excuse I made use of in the presence of proactive challenges "I have a class to get to"

Which I totally didn't.

It was cringe worthy and to add a candle to the top of the cake, Golden Boy/ Zayn watched and enjoyed the whole show, stifling chortles. In that moment, I wished one of his many princesses would come and escort him away, accidentally drowning him in the moistness of her inner thighs.

Have I mentioned how I abhorred Zayn yet?

"Arrogant idiot. Some people should learn not to eavesdrop" I huffed as I plummeted down the hallway angrily.

"Me or Mrs Leblanc?"

My internal rant would've been peaceful, unheard of even, had not Zayn interfered with that demeaning smirk of his. I didn't want to add him to the equation but Zayn was doing the most.

Game on, Davenport.

"You! In every single way, you! You're so freaking cocky!" I screeched in his face. The amusement that danced in his eyes only grew. "You think I'm funny, Zayn?"

I'd assume I was on a glorified roll but Zayn smirked once more and my roll crashed and burned. I got incarcerated with it.

"You are. You give yourself too much credit Milan. You are only worth so much" I imagined my facial folds wiggling from that impact. He stepped forward, leaning over to look me in the eyes disrespectfully because he knew he waqqqs tall. "Let's stick to one upping one another instead of competition, shall we?"

“Don't you just love Enemy day?”

I blinked.

Unfailingly, Zayn did the greater amount of hurting during that little scorching quarrel because my toes were already pointing towards the exit.

"You're a callous, self absorbed, arrogant butt head"

Not my finest use of vocabulary but my ego was in need of urgent medical care, in turn rendering me a Lioness with acute Laryngitis

“See you later, Milly”

Zayn really thought he was everything didn't he? He was a brazen jerk, glorified with statues of nude women, that's what he was.

He may have laughed in my face, considering my calm but he had not seen the last of me.

Around me, the tapestry of noisy activities were very distracting and splitting my swaying attention from my vigorous praying to listening to gossip and watching boys juggle test tubes. I knew coming late to chemistry would benefit me more than such mindless staring but my good girl tendencies beat my bad bitch to it.

Focus.

What for you may ask? I had been praying to God for something, anything to occur leading to Davenport being paralysed for long enough not to come to chemistry class.

That was a bit much but I'd appreciate his absence regardless of the cause. Unprecedented stomach troubles included.

But there the inane, arrogant, wall of muscle was, Striding into class with an unfortunate blonde wrapped around him.

I shuddered at the sight. Zayn, in his lifetime only had a selected few girlfriends and those blessed few were chosen on unbeatable criteria, judging from the way the critter sluggishly moved, she'd be gone as quickly as a cold.

He didn't look necessarily interested either, she was leaching off him, he was craning his neck in search of his next victim.

My eyes widened when i recognized the bleached blonde. Lorraine Palmer. Not a straight A student and most likely didn't spend her summers at math camp.

Zayn wouldn't budge. Unless she was Lucifer's incarnation in the bedroom.

In her tiny mind, the man was made out of gold. I could make that much out by the way she stared at him. I couldn't blame her, Zayn did have that mesmerizing charm that could attract Hammerheads.

"Hello Neighbor" Zayn's face split into a disturbing grin, plopping on our unfortunately shared bench. I groaned loudly at his acknowledgement of my presence.

Conversation wasn't necessary. We could sit and glare at each other as per usual. He was using nostalgia as an inside joke.

"Hey Milan" Lorraine smiled.

Zayn stared expectantly, waiting for something that never came. Rejection.

I wasn't up for it.

A sugar coated response was just at the tip of my tongue when her lips parted to speak again. "I was wondering if you could take my seat while I sat with Zayn today?"

My lips clip closed.

The signs were so prominent. We would not be friends. Her eyes were sparkling with desire. Zayn cheered her up, caressing her ass. She looked very much hungry for that spot next to him. She could bite me.

Who wanted to sit with Zayn for the fun of it? I only did it because Zayn was lonely and obviously, we were the top graders, It was customary to share a desk.

Yet I didn't want to give it up.

Zayn's stare lingered.

“Milan, we're waiting”

I held her gaze for a few more moments feeling moved by the sheer power held by an adorable face with a pout. A sigh left my lips as I relinquished my seat to her.

Lorraine wielded a Kingdom crashing power.

Zayn's attraction to her seemed more vilified.

She smiled and pushed herself into my arms in an awkward embrace before manning her newly acclaimed seat.

I didn't get to have a pat in before to pushed me away, wiggling unto Zayn in celebration.

The jerk was getting much off her grinding.

It wasn't like I usually felt happy sitting with Zayn but I felt a scintilla of disappointment seeping through me. It was little. As imperceptible as an eyelash.

No one would understand my chemistry jokes if it wasn't him.

"For someone over her head like you are, you have a heart of pure gold" I choked out the least lady like snort I could.

"I'd advise you to cache your compliments for your blond concubine" I whispered as I walked past Zayn to what was my new position in the class. In the far, far parts of class, where spiders built nests, dew settled and werewolves howled and clawed for blood…

Davenport laughed heartily and sent me one of those incandescent smiles I occasionally saw when he was wrapped with a new girl toy or on unique days, when I was subjected to immense torture.

Chemistry behind Zayn was hellish. The boy was oddly smart even while paired with clumsy Lorraine who could trade peanuts for her brain.

He was also undeniably fit. Curse you Milan for recognizing his cepses fill the air.

Lorraine's obliviousness gave Zayn a metrocard to grope city. He visited all the shops and touched all the historical landmarks.

Together, they made a quite amusing pair but it seemed Lorraine wouldn't have it any better. Zayn was indifferent. His prodding I spasmodically saw underneath the table said enough about that.

Again, watching them was chunder inducing.

No wonder he had the entire female body in school swooning, let's just say he has a certain witchy perfection to him that elicited painful twists in my stomach cavity. It was the torture of adoration burning through my intestinal lining.

Not only that, I was also made to gaze at Zayn and his girl swap spit. I was traumatized by the sight. Perverts cheered and Haters scowled.

Though, amidst those girls who abhorred the sight, some were impressed enough to learn the ways of Lorraine and disfigure their personalities to fit hers.

"One day, I'll be with him, not stupid Lorraine" My bench mate murmured to herself, very visibly not one of her supporters.

"You don't have to be, Zayn Davenport is just another good looking jock, they come and go all the time and use unsuspecting girls while they're at it" She looked up, stark blue eyes shimmering with disappointment. My peptalk was a failed attempt. "My advise would be not to fall for his charm. It's all a well devised plot"

I rubbed her back, feeling some unknown connection with her. It wasn't everyday you advise the new girl not to fall for the hottest guy at school.

"I'm Milan Mayfield" I extended a hand to her.

"Chelsea Edward, new student" She shook my hand fervently with a contractible grin.

Chelsea fit in with Sarah and me quite well, I could tell when I introduced them.

Sarah was quick to warm up to her. The chatted like Mexican cousins about their lives while I idled away unrelated because I didn't listen to pop music nor believe in RomCons.

At free period, we further introduced Chelsea to the people we were fond of and the ones we could barely stand in the cold embers of the soccer field. The jocks were doing their thing, so was I. Feeding my eyes.

"How could you hate Zayn?" She shrieked defensively like a nun filling in for the Priest at the Confession Box.

I rolled my eyes solely because I believed here really were Zayn worshippers who took offence to any piddling disrespect to Zayn's name. "There's so many things I hate about him. For example, His ego”

Trust me to expect pitchforks after my Jugular vein any day now.

Sarah pulled Chelsea closer and whispered something in her ear. If it was aimed at easing her understanding of my indisputable hate for golden boy, it had little efficiency.

"But he's perfect" She defended. Here we go again, another teenage girl compiling reason after reason why she wanted Zayn to be a sperm donor for her children.

"I know he is and that may just be my major reason for hating him"

"Another may be that she has a crush on him but other than furtive glares, he's never spared her a glance" Sarah butted in.

"He's a flirtatious asshole , why would I want him to look at me like he does with his little whores"

Ignore Sarah, I didn't feel romantic attractions to people, I only hated and then hated some more and sent my dogs after them for blood.

“Stop lying. You like him”

Chelsea was suddenly interested. I zoned out.

I searched around the soccer field for him which tookno effort at all as His gold hair glittered drawing both the attention of hormonal females and my scorching glare.

Think Rupunzel, just with a spikey trim.

He was having soccer practice which meant his outfit for the day was stinking up the boys locker room while he modelled his pit hair in an awfully maxi Jersey.

Damn the boy, he still looked good.

Sarah and Chelsea deviated into conversation about random things I didn't bother chiming in on. Glaring at Zayn while he kicked a ball was too entertaining to ignore.

Except, my glare kept being deflected by spasmodic glimpses of his v-line when he jumped and his unnecessary flexing.

Zayn wa selling himself off, to whosoever cared enough to watch.

Milan Mayfield.

He stretched and carried out basic exercises but still looked awfully good at it. Even the coat of perspiration over his milk skin shined perfectly.

Some of us found it hard enough to bend over to tie our laces without Muscle pulls. He was teasing me at that point.

As aggrieving as it was watching him, I couldn't bring myself to look away.

It incensed me I was only excellent in academics while Zayn had both academics and extracurricular in the bag.

But I was totally athletic. I just difn't participate much.

“Look what we have here," Her perfume killed my olfactory receptors before I recognized her. “Milan likes Zayn”

Her singsong voice could compete with an offkey child for a Grammy and loose.

Lorraine sat beside me. “You're mistaken. Zayn and I are enemies to say the least”

"Milan, we both know you have an eye on him so stay away" So, her niceness was debatable. Was that how strong and relentless the power of Zayn was? Turning susceptible nice girls into Zayn addicted crackheads.

I sighef, frustrated when the girl's ineffective glare stayed strong. "Word for the wise Lorraine, you stay away from him. Everyone knows he's trouble just by the sound of his name"

Trouble in terms of being a player. He changed his boxers less than he did girls. And maybe I just wanted to ruin his reputation a bit.

"Stop bad mouthing him" She screeches. My friends paused their conversation, intrigued by forthcoming drama and huddled closer to me awaiting a signal to pull out their weapons and aim for Lorraine's vocal cords. "You better stay away from Zayn, he's mine"

Lorraine stood up, visibly shaking in her heels, patted down her clothes and bolted, leaving behind a trail of suddenly interested onlookers.

Sarah and Chelsea inquired and I shrugged, not knowing what the hell just happened either.

True to Lorraine's words, word spread that Zayn Davenport had put a ring on it.

And in one day Lorraine had agglomerated fangirls who delighted themselves in being at her every service and fighting off any possible nuclear warheads of hers.

Busty and thick girls had been whisked to the corner to avoid further competition. Lorraine wasn't Zayn's type.

He liked fleshy and she was a beautiful waif. Perhaps he was tasting all the flavors to see whichever one he liked best.

“For someone who was in love with Zayn by 7am this morning, I'm not a bawling mess”

“Which is a good thing. The girls bathroom was bathed in talcum powder. So many poor girls were forced into retouching their makeup” Sarah.

“That’s sad" I sighed. I should have expected them to take it the wrong way after that.

“Milan is taking it the hardest. You look like you're drying. I should have driven” Sarah couldn't stop talking.

It was my day to drive (Chelsea hasn't been incorporated into the driving roaster for my trusty, messy Chevy). I was alright. Lorraine might have hated my guts but her relationship with Zayn only mattered to me in terms of excessive PDA.

I was unconcerned and unwilling to satisfy Chelsea and Sarah by assenting to their claims.

“I don't like Zayn so technically, his relat

ionship doesn't bother me”

They gave farce nods.

Be aware world, the time had come for the females other than Lorraine's disciples to be depressed and overdose cough syrup because Zayn Davenport wasn't on the market anymore.