IT PROBABLY SHOULD have unnerved me more to be living across from Zayn. As Liam and I had established, making me uncomfortable surely wasn't his intention. What reason would he have to do such a thing? Then again, how many other students had been so forward and then magically produced an insect from the palm of their hand? The element of creepiness was definitely there and with Zayn being my neighbour, God knows how many more butterflies would be flying about. 

No, I thought firmly. I won't let him get to me. It's nothing, you're overthinking the whole thing.

Perhaps instead of dwelling on it, I could focus on befriending him? Turn a new leaf, as they say. He'd apologised at the end of the day and with us as class mates - and me as his unofficial tour guide thanks to Mrs Harris - it's not like we could avoid each other. 

That's when I set myself a challenge - to find out Zayn's secret. Through becoming more acquainted, hopefully that would shed some light on how he'd achieved his magic trick. Or mind trick as he had interjected. Despite the little voice in my head telling me to leave it, my nosiness just got the better of me. Whatever it was about Zayn that I couldn't quite put my finger on was about to become my new homework.

I bundled all of my school work together and slid it under the bed beside all of the useful notes I had accumulated over the years. There were several boxes of old school work that my mother had insisted I hold on to in case it proved to be useful again later down the line. She couldn't have been more right. Kate had even found my stash useful when she needed to cram for a test she hadn't bothered to revise for.

I sighed and fell back against the mattress. I was exhausted and just as my eyes began to close, a bang from downstairs disturbed any plans I had of a nap. 

Stupid brother, I thought as I heard the fridge being raided. Ian wasn't subtle though he'd argue that he was. I'd overheard the same thing from some of the teachers, complaining that he was the class clown and just a plain nuisance. My parents had called him a devil once but what fifteen year old wasn't? It was fair to say that we were like chalk and cheese. 

I listened until Ian padded up the stairs and across the hall to his room. I rolled my eyes before I stood up and made my way towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. Just before I reached the door, a light caught my eye and I glanced over at the house across the street.

Zayn's silhouette was recognisable through the thin curtains, his posture and hair the giveaway. I wondered if he lived with his parents though there had been no sign of anyone other than him when the moving vans had rolled up that afternoon. Did he live alone? 

I found myself still staring as he pulled his shirt up, over his head and tossed it aside. I was suddenly thankful for the curtain. Mortified wouldn't even begin to describe how I'd feel if he'd turned and found me ogling at him from across the street. If the tables were turned, I'd certainly not be happy to find someone watching me undress.

I thought back to Zayn's tattoos. He'd mentioned having a lot more than the ones that covered his arms and hands. I wondered where else he had been inked?

Oh my God, I thought. I'm the creep now.

I rubbed at my eyes, and quickly turned from the window.

I took a quick shower and tugged on my pyjamas before fashioning a towel into a not-so-functional turban; my hair tumbled out in all directions after only a few moments. Marielle was the one who knew all about the beauty hacks and the most up to date way to apply body lotion. I'd have to ask her to try out some methods of taming my hair.

My bed had never looked more inviting and I happily fell upon it, letting my sore body be enveloped by the soft duvet.

There was a creak in the hall way.

"Night Ian," I called and I heard him groan in response. Busted.

"Damn!" he huffed before I heard him shuffle back to his room with a sigh.

Ten minutes ticked away to twenty and with a huff, I pushed myself out of bed and down the stairs to get a glass of water. The TV could be heard as I made my way towards the kitchen, the flickering lights of the TV  bouncing off the walls. My dad often sat up late, chuckling along with whatever show he was engrossed in, usually some wildlife show or documentary. 

I poured myself a drink and made my way to the living room where I found him exactly where I usually did, on the couch looking far too amused by what was going on in the animal kingdom. Tonight it was big cats and all their antics.

I plopped myself down beside him on the couch and threw my feet up over his lap.

"Can't sleep?" he asked giving me a small smile. I could tell by the redness of his eyes that he was tired but God forbid he missed his TV programs. A big yawn escaped his lips as if in confirmation.

"I was about off until I heard Ian raiding the fridge," I admitted. "Didn't you hear him?"

"Hm? Oh, no I must have missed him," my dad muttered, his attention still on the TV. He was easily distracted and I wasn't at all surprised to find that he'd been too invested in his show to intervene with Ian's late night snacking. 

"I can't imagine why," I muttered. "You're shattered, Dad. You should go to bed."

"I am shattered," he admitted, running a hand through his short, greying hair. "Work was pretty stressful today. Billy went off on one, shouting because he thinks no-one is working fast enough. Of course, he can't talk when he works at the pace of a bloody snail... God, that man get's on my nerves at times. In fact, all the time." My dad rolled his eyes.

My dad worked in an office, sorting through paperwork and making spreadsheets for a housing association. He hated it but it helped pay the bills and kept our bellies full. The same thing applied to my mother and her two part time jobs. We all knew she would have loved to pack them in and become self employed but times were tough and money was tight. 

"You mean Billy, you're favourite person in the world?" I teased and my dad just chuckled and pinched my foot.

"Not my favourite person. That would be your mother, you and your brother. Although, if Ian's been at the fridge again I may need to reconsider my choices."

"He was at the fridge, Dad."

"Then you and your mother then," he joked. "How was school?"

How was school? Weird was the first word that came to mind, from meeting Zayn, to the downpour in the afternoon, to helping Liam survive a dog attack. My interaction with Zayn was the cherry on top though.

"Different," I decided to settle for. "Remember the new student we were getting? It was his first day today and I got landed as his tour guide."

"There's a new lad in your year?" my dad asked. I could tell from his tone that he most definitely did not remember me mentioning it to him a few weeks back.

I nodded. "Yeah. He also happens to be living across from us."

That caught his attention; a frown crossed his face and he looked at me as opposed to the lioness cornering her prey.

"In twenty-four? Are you sure? Last I heard they'd only started renovating it a few months ago. No one's lived in there for years," he said. 

"Well, unless I need new glasses, I definitely saw him helping unload a van full of stuff into there this afternoon. They probably finished renovating it if it's got a tenant now."

"Is he nice?" my dad asked suddenly.

"He's ... alright."

"Alright," my dad tested. "Just alright?"

"Well, I've known him for a few hours and he hasn't tried to kidnap or kill me yet so alright is the best I've got for now."

My dad made a face as if to say fair enough but then he sighed and rested a hand on my shin.

"If you do get to know him better and he even mentions kidnapping or murder, you run."

"Dad!" I laughed. "Jesus Christ, he smokes marlboro and is good with a pencil, hardly dealing on the side and wielding an axe."

"You never know!"

"I'd like to think I'm not a bad judge of character," I retorted. "All he is at the moment is a mysterious new guy who has all the girls swooning."

"All the girls?" He gave me a look with a raised brow.

"Not me," I said a little too quickly. Most definitely, I hadn't swooned when I'd laid eyes on Zayn. He was handsome and secretive , yes. Being able to state the obvious didn't mean I was infatuated unlike some - I thought of Kate instantly. "Sophie, May and Kate seem to think he's particularly dishy."

"Is he?"

"Dad!" 

He just chuckled. "All I'm saying is be careful."

"You said the same thing when I became friends with Liam. And Niall. And that guy I said 'hi' to at the bookshop two months ago."

"Hey, I'm allowed to be sceptical of boys when my daughter is involved."

It wasn't the first time my dad had raised concerns and it most certainly wouldn't be the last. All I could do was reassure him that nothing bad was going to happen and that I'd be the prim and proper daughter he'd brought me up to be. Hell, it wasn't even a lie - Zayn meant nothing to me. and there was no way in hell that anything would ever happen between us.

"Dad, I promise to keep well away. Do you feel better now?"

He considered. After a painfully drawn out silence where he tapped his chin like a wizened old librarian debating which genre to alphabetize next, he nodded. "Much better. Not that I'd expect anything less from you."

He let out a loud yawn and gently pushed my legs off of his lap. He stood, stretched and wished me good night before he handed me the remote and headed to bed, his joints creaking as he did.

"Night, dad," I called as he made his way up the stairs.

"Night, Laura. Get to bed soon, it's a school night."

"Alright," I muttered as I pushed myself up and wandered back into the kitchen. I filled my water a little higher and took a big gulp.

All was silent and still across the street at number twenty-four. There was no movement behind the curtains and no sign of Zayn. I couldn't help but wonder what he was doing at this time of night. He didn't strike me as an early night kind of guy. Maybe he liked to read himself to sleep? Listen to some music or have a late night puff?

Turning away from the window, I made my way back to my room. The pink fairy lights around the headboard lit the room enough for me to see where I was going and as I carefully placed my drink on the bedside table, a light caught the corner of my eye. 

A light was on across the street now and a second later the door to twenty-four opened as Zayn wandered out into the chilly evening. 

He still wore his leather jacket, though beneath he sported a band T-shirt and loose grey jeans slung from his hips. Between his lips was a cigarette that he was struggling to light as the wind continued to catch the flame of his lighter. 

He looked more relaxed outside of school. Telling him we were neighbours crossed my mind, considering that he may be a completely different person outside of school. Perhaps his attitude had changed towards me so suddenly because he was anxious in crowded places. Sophie could sometimes get like that and it would explain what had happened that morning a little better. 

It wasn't until Zayn puffed out his final drag and crushed the stub beneath his boot that I finally turned away from the window. How long had I been watching him draw in toxic air?

My father's words replayed in my mind, All I'm saying is be careful. Was Zayn someone I had to be careful around or was it all a big misunderstanding? The only thing I wanted to know about him was how he had achieved the butterfly trick and that hardly seemed like something to be cautious about. 

I was going to confront him about it the next day. The worst thing he could do was tell me to mind my own business. Enlightening me, on the other hand, was going to take a bit of work as no magician liked to reveal his secrets. 

But I had every intention of uncovering his secret.