14 ??The weird scene in our classroom??

LEIA

I didn't know what the heck was suddenly going on. My throat was clogged up and I couldn't, for the life of me, utter a single world. The classroom was dead silent and just like me, all of them were hidden behind their chairs. It was a weird scene. It seemed as though they were . . . amused and a little frightened.

The guys were mostly stroking girls' backs and they were shamelessly clinging to each other. It was disturbing. We were all Muslims.

My eyes met Zayn's. His face was blank but he was gazing right into my eyes.

"What's going on?" I whispered when I was sure there was no danger.

"It's a drill," He said.

"Drill?" I repeated.

He sighed, pushing back his hair and resting his elbows over his knees. "Our school has held drills ever since the Peshawar attack."

"Peshawar—what? What attack?"

His eyes darkened. "You can't possibly not know about the attack. It happened a year after you left."

"There was an attack in Peshawar?" I questioned, not getting the point. Why were we having this 'drill' thing?

"At a public school, yes."

"At a school?"

His eyes were calculating as they perused over my face. "By the looks of it, you didn't know. Which means you weren't in Pakistan."

I diverted my gaze. "I never said anything like that."

"No. No, you didn't. But the very fact that you won't meet my eyes, proves my point. And trust me, anyone who was in Pakistan—or otherwise—knew about the APS attack."

I gnawed on my lower lip. He was figuring things out and would most likely have questions but I wasn't worried about that at the moment. I couldn't believe someone would attack a school and kill innocent children.

And for what? Just so we wouldn't get an education?

"Why are we hiding?" I spoke loudly. Loud enough for everyone to hear. "Do you guys really think hiding wouldn't get us killed? And why should we hide? We aren't afraid. I am not afraid."

There was silence. Then, a girl spoke from the somewhere in the middle line—Mehar, I think her name was.

"It's not about being afraid. It's just . . . a school activity. A requirement by law."

"No, it's not," Anas drawled. "The government has nothing to do with this."

"As if you would know," She replied haughtily.

"Careful, Mehar. I think you're forgetting I'm the part of student council. Now, sit properly. This is a class, not your bedroom."

I was pretty sure he was sprawled on a chair somewhere. God, these people weren't taking any of this seriously.

I blew out a fuming breath, swiveling my gaze to Zayn. The breath got caught in my throat.

Suddenly, I was very aware of the fact that Zayn and I were touching in many places. Our thighs were aligned and so were our arms. Everywhere we touched, I was sizzling with electricity. I pushed at the chair Zayn had quickly dragged in front of the desk we were hiding under.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I stared back at him, incredulous. "This is clearly no more than a joke to you guys."

"Do you see me laughing?" He was right. His face was dead serious, unlike the rest of the students. Most of them were trying hard to control their laughter. They talked and consoled each other in barely concealed jest—just as an excuse to get their hands on each other.

"I don't know about you, Zayn but I am not going to hide. Especially not in this little space with you."

He let me go without another word. For a minute, I stared at the students, hiding behind chairs—save for Anas—and then, because I was so angry, I just unlocked the door and sprinted out of the classroom and straight into the coordinator's office.

. . .

This woman . . .

UGH.

I offered a saccharine-sweet smile and got up from the chair. "May I leave, Miss?"

She nodded, waving her hand towards the sliding doors. "And please . . . next time, talk to one of the student council members. There's no need to bring your problems directly to me."

I eyed her dyed golden hair and silently offered an angry nod. Without another word, I turned on my heel and left the office.

I didn't usually lose my temper but I was literally struggling for breath with the amount of adrenaline pumping through my veins.

"Cooled down yet?"

I whirled around at the sound of the low drawl. Zayn stood with his back against the wall, arms crossed and one foot plastered on the wall in his signature way.

"I just needed air," I said dismissively, waiting to walk into the classroom.

One step and he was in front of me, eyes scanning my face like they usually did. I never understood why. "Well, next time you 'need air', you ask permission, yeah? You can't just walk out of the class without a word. Especially when we were in the middle of the drill."

"There was no need for air quotes," I huffed out a breath, feeling the warmth in my cheeks decreasing.

"You look like you've run a marathon, can I ask why?"

"You can't,"

"Excuse me?"

"You can't ask. If you want to ask, go ahead. It's not like I'll answer. On that note, I'm heading inside."

He swiftly blocked my way. Again. "Where did you go?"

"Can you stop stepping in my way? It's irritating."

He raised a brow at my tone. "I'll ignore the last part but to answer your question, if I remember correctly there was a certain girl who warned me not to touch her or else . . ." His eyes were lit-up in amusement.

Was he making fun of me?

"Since you seem to be listening to my warning so nicely, I have another one that I'd like for you to listen to—I would really appreciate it if you didn't talk to me. At all." I was dead serious. A big part of me didn't want that at all but still, I sounded serious. That was a good thing.

"Not talk to you," He repeated, looking puzzled and pissed. "I'm not allowed to talk to you, to touch you and what else? Not even look at you. Pfft. Come on."

"Yes," I said. "I don't want you to look at me. You're supposed to lower your gaze with the opposite gender. Ever heard of it?"

He craned his neck down, till we were both eye to eye. His breath fanned my face so I took a small step back.

His low voice made goosebumps rise all over my flesh. "Do you really think I won't look when your shirt is that see-through?"

What. The. Hell.

I looked down at my stomach just to make sure. It wasn't that see through. But it was. I knew it was see-through enough for people to see my grey sports bra if they looked intently and were up close.

That wasn't good at all.

"You are such a . . ." I swallowed an insult. "Prude."

He chuckled darkly, eyes locked with mine and turning a little dangerous after a moment. "Relax. I didn't look. Yet. You better get something a little less revealing, though. Next time, I won't be so generous."

Generous, my foot.

"First you have a problem with my niqab and now that I'm wearing this uniform, you still have a problem. What is wrong with you?"

I swallowed the rest of my speech in. There was no need for useless talk with boys and I didn't have anything to prove to him. We bought uniforms from the shop and didn't have a say on whether to change the material of it. It was a little see-through just like every girl in this school wore. Why was he picking on me?

It's not like I felt comfortable wearing it.

Now he made me even more uncomfortable. I would constantly be worrying about people seeing the shape of my back or the dark straps of my sports bra.

Way to make my day better.

"I never said I had a problem with your niqab." His voice was soft, so soft in fact, it was hardly a whisper.

For a moment, I couldn't believe my ears. I was hallucinating, right?

"Did you forget what you and your friends did to me outside my locker? Or does that count as nothing to you?"

Shame flickered in his eyes. He was never very good at hiding his emotions. Or maybe he just let me see them sometimes.

"That wasn't even remotely related to your niqab and you know it. I was just . . . angry."

"I didn't deserve that," I told him with tenacity.

"I know," He buried a hand in his hair, tugging the strands harshly. "I frikkin' know. I'm sorry."

"You don't even know what happened, Zayn. You can't blame me."

His expression closed down. Just like that. It was as though a mask of indifference had slipped back on his face. He wore his anger as a mask but he knew being angry right now would get him nowhere.

At least not what he was hoping for.

His bet wasn't forgotten. Everything he was doing, he was doing for the bet. I felt sick just thinking about it.

This was a stranger.

I would never think of this person as my Zayn. The beautiful boy I once knew. The one with a kind heart and a sweet smile.

"I don't blame you," His voice lacked conviction, conveying his real feelings to me.

"Then why do you still want to hurt me?"

He swallowed, looking away. "I'd never hurt you. Not intentionally."

I laughed bitterly, tired of all of this. "Just hear yourself out, Zayn. See if your words match that which is in your heart."

I had opened the class's door halfway through when he said from behind, "You never knew what was in my heart, did you, Leia? Otherwise, you never would've left me."

I clenched my fists and stepped inside.