16 ??Damsel in distress?? (1/2)
LEIA
I opened the car's door and just looked helplessly at Zayn. His face was shadowed by the flicker of light coming from the streetlamps and he looked every bit the kind of guy fathers warned their daughters about.
”What's going on?” He said with a flippant smile.
Smile? On Zayn?
I was either dead or dreaming.
”Nothing,” I shook my head as if to prove my point. ”Nothing I can't fix.”
Yeah. As if I knew what the hell was wrong with my car—again—and what I needed to do to fix it. In the middle of the night, no less.
”Are you sure?”
”Yeah,” I used my best 'duh' tone.
He shrugged. ”Okay, then. See you on Monday.”
He turned to leave.
Wait . . . what? He wasn't going to offer me help? Couldn't my Zayn step out of this jerk somehow? Because I was stranded in the middle of a creepy-as-hell parking lot with all sorts of weird people and in desperate need of a strong man who could fix my rusty old car.
And, as sad and pathetic as it was, Zayn was the only guy I trusted.
No matter who he'd become I could always rely on him. I wish I wasn't so easily trusting but that's who I was and I couldn't help it.
”Hey, wait!” I stepped out of my car just in case I'd have to yell louder.
Torturously slow, Zayn twisted at the waist and said, ”Me?”
It was too dark for me to properly see his face especially with the distance between us but I was pretty sure he was amused.
I drew in a deep breath, wondering what I was supposed to do now that I had his attention.
I cleared my throat in a sophisticated lady-like manner. ”My car isn't working.”
”And?” He probed, taking a few steps toward me.
God, did he want me to spell it out for him? Couldn't he be a gentleman and offer help?
”I need someone to fix it.”
”Need who?” Gosh, he was definitely teasing me. ”Should I call someone?”
”Zayn,” I gritted out.
”Yes?” His face was pure innocence.
For some stupid reason, it melted my heart. Hold your horses, woman.
”Can you help me fix my car?”
”I most certainly can. But will I?”
Oh. My. God.
He was so infuriating. If I wasn't a respectable young Muslimah I would've trudged forward and had a nice conversation with him and probably smacked him a time or two.
”Never mind,” I quipped, turning back and fishing around the seats for my purse. Then I remembered I had put my phone in the dashboard.
Too busy looking for my phone, I hadn't realised Zayn had come closer until I felt him right by my side. I debated telling him to get lost and instead focused on my brand-new iPhone.
3 WhatsApp missed calls.
All from Ammar.
I don't know why I peeked at Zayn just then. And why did I feel that weird twinge of guilt? Zayn was just some boy who had long ago been my friend while Ammar was my husband of five years. I wished I could just switch off my feelings because they sure were confusing me.
”You got a new phone,” Zayn noted, inclining his head towards said phone.
”Hmm,” I pretended to do something while thinking of what to do. Calling Ammar wasn't an option. It wasn't like he could do anything from afar.
Should I call Mom?
No. I didn't want her to worry. She must've gotten off from her nine to five job and there was no way I was going to take away the little time she had to relax.
”Come on, don't sulk. Let me help you.”
I released a grateful breath. ”Can we please hurry? I need to get home.”
He nodded and pointed toward where I was standing. ”Can I start the car and see what the problem is?”
I immediately stepped aside and he moved to sit in the passenger seat.
”It isn't starting,” I informed him when he started to turn the ignition on.
He shot me a look. ”Yeah. I gathered that.”
He got back to starting the car while I pathetically stood by the side, swaying from left to right, forward to backward.
”Can you tell me what's wrong?” I asked, seeing him staring at the steering wheel.
He slid me a glance, then rotated the keys as if showing me what was happening. ”You hear that sound? That's the car cranking down, which means there isn't sufficient fuel. I can try calling a guy I know from a workshop but it's a little late and I doubt he'll be able to come and fix it anytime soon.”
”So what do I do?”
He shrugged. ”I'll call the guy just in case. But I guess you'll have to take a ride with someone else. The car will be fixed by early in the morning tomorrow.”
I fiddled around with my phone. ”Would you possibly have Hoor's number? Maybe she can drop me off?”
He stared at me for a minute straight. Then sighed, muttering something. ”I don't.”
”You mean to say you somehow had my number but not hers? Well, that's a bit of hypocrisy, isn't it?”
”Hypocrisy?” He repeated, laughing gravely. ”I think the term you were looking for was—”
I held up a hand. ”Don't you dare correct me, Zayn. I'm not six. I know what word I mean to use and what not. Now, call Zeeshan and ask him for her number. I'm sure you have his, right?”
Zayn grumbled.
”What was that?”
”I'll drop you,”
My eyes couldn't have gotten wider. ”Say what now?”
He sighed, pushing his hair back in a nervous habit. ”Don't make this into a bigger deal than it is. I'll drop you off to your place.”
”No.”
”No?”
”Zayn, I'm not going anywhere alone with you. It's inappropriate.”
He looked baffled, as if I was uttering gibberish. ”Come on, Leia. We used to be friends. You know you can trust me.”
The thing was, I did trust him. But I just didn't trust that sizzle between us. Being alone at night + sitting with a gorgeous guy = bad decisions.
I shook my head and held my phone up. ”I'll call an Uber.”
”So you'll go alone with some random guy at this time but not me?” He seemed furious and I realised I had practically denied the fact that I ever trusted him. Not that I cared.
Dammit, I did care.
LEIA!
I cleared my throat, all hi-tech and collected. ”That's . . . professional. Look, Zayn, I don't have to offer explanations to you, okay? I'm doing what I'm doing and this isn't even remotely your business.”
His lip twitched in amusement.
”I'm glad you find this funny.” Sarcasm dripped from my words.
”I'm just thinking about how you're still the same—using words in the wrong context and all. I'm glad your English is better now.”
I released a fuming breath. ”You don't know anything about me and stop changing the subject. Just go away.”
Zayn was staring at me with wide eyes. That's when I realised my mistake. I covered my mouth with a hand.
”You . . .” Zayn looked puzzled. ”Where did that accent come from?”
Great, Leia. You just had to ruin everything right now, didn't you?
I had tried day and night to conceal my accent. Living in the UK for five years definitely changed my accent and I didn't want anyone here to know that I'd been in the UK all along. Especially not Zayn.
Damn my anger. It was going to get me killed one day.
”Get in the car.”
”What?”
”I'm not letting it go this time, Leia. I need to know what's been going on. You owe it to me.”
I scoffed. ”I don't owe you anything.”
Fine. Maybe I owed him a couple of apologies but not this. I really wasn't in the mood to delve into the past and feel like crap for the rest of the month. Because feeling like crap led to consumption of millions of chocolate bars which led to me looking like a potato. No thanks, I'll pass.