[Z A Y N]

"Are you done?" Stan asked, throwing another peanut at the tree.

"No," I muttered, my face buried in the sketchbook I had on my lap. Stand threw another nut, and I could hear it crack against the tree branch. "Will you stop throwing those?" I sighed, grabbing the bag from him and putting it on the other side of me.

"Rude," he mumbled, "not like you're using them," he complained.

"No, but my mum is. She's using them to make something. Dunno what it is, but I know we're not suppose to waste them," I told him, and continued with my sketch.

"Just how we're not suppose to be sitting on the roof?" he chuckled.

"Shut up, Stan."

"What're you drawing?" he asked, laying down onto his back.

"Someone," I mumbled.

He sat up, "You're drawing that girl aren't you! Amber! You're drawing her! C'mon, I know I'm right just show me!" he exclaimed.

I sighed, "No- just. Yeah, I'm drawing her, but it's not done. I don't know how to get her to like me again but maybe this will help?" I shrugged, looking up to the sky. While I did that, it gave Stan the perfect chance to look at the drawing. Which he did. By ripping the sketchpad out of my hands.

He pursed his lips, "Where did you get this idea?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Yesterday at lunch. Her friend was putting her necklace on and she like, held her hair up for her to do it- I don't know, can I just have this back?" I asked him, reaching out for it.

He sighed and handed it back to me, "Are you gonna give it to her?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, "M'not gonna let her know it's from me, though," I told him. He shook his head. "What?"

"You're doing the same thing with the whole texting thing, Z!" he tossed his hand up, letting it fall back onto his thigh. "She's gonna find out you're the one leaving drawings and shit and she's just going to do the same thing!" he exclaims.

"Yeah, well, this is just how I do things, then," I huffed, "just leave it alone, will you?"

"No," he crossed his arms, "Zayn, I know you like her a lot. Which is why I'm trying to help," he said.

"I don't need your help."

"You don't seem to need anyone's help."

I didn't answer him.

"You're ignoring me, now?" he raised his eyebrows.

I stayed silent.

"Fine. I'll fuck off," he rolled his eyes, and stood up, climbing back down into my window. About a minute later I saw him exit through the front door, and get in his car.

After a couple more minutes the cold started to bother me more, and I got off of the roof and went back into my room. I threw on a sweatshirt, and grabbed my phone from the charger. I put on some of my music and made home on my soft mattress. I ran a hand through my hair, and blew it out of my face, only getting annoyed when it fell right back down again.

"God damn," I mumbled, and fished through the drawer right next to my bed for a hair tie. Once I found one I tied my dark hair back, and focused back on my drawing.

[A M B E R]

It's Monday again when I walked into school. Louis was by my side for a couple of minutes, but then we parted ways, and I was left walking alone to my locker.

I opened it, and before I could reach out, a paper fell from somewhere inside. I bent down and picked it up. It was folded, so I opened it up, and gasped. It was a drawing of who I guessed was me. I remembered the moment, actually. Friday, at lunch. I had Sierra put my necklace back on after she finished untangling it, and held my hair up so that she could clip it.

I stood there, admiring the picture. Someone accidentally bumped into me, which kind of brought me back to reality. I stuffed my things I to my locker and grabbed my things for the next two classes. I kept the drawing in hand. I didn't want to put it down.

Right in the corner, I noticed a small signature. It was all scribbled, which annoyed me since I just don't understand why people have scribbly signatures that no one can read instead of easy cursive. Therefore, I couldn't read it. The only parts I picked up was Za from the first name, and M from the last name. Now it was obvious.

I met Zayn's eyes as I walked into Art. He looked at me with a smirk, and bit his lip. I could feel my cheeks blushing up.

No. You hate him, remember?!

I gulped, and walked to my seat with a shake of my head. Zayn fucking Malik won't ever leave me alone, will he. And that's not even a question because I already know he's no going to leave me alone.

He stayed quiet, but anyone could feel the tension. "Thanks," I mumbled, "for the picture. It's really good," I told him, gesturing to the piece of artwork in my hands.

He cracked a small smile, "I'm glad you like it," he nodded.

"But how did you-"

"Amber. Class is starting," he hummed with a big smirk on his lips.

I groaned, and rolled my eyes as I paid attention to the teacher. So much for finally trying to talk.