Just Give Up

There was no point in hanging around. When I got back to Renee's room, the boys logged off, saying they had to go somewhere and that if I ever needed them, just give 'em a call. The doctor said that Renee suffered no serious head injuries, except a mild concussion. The general idea was, she should spend the rest of today and tomorrow in bed. Francis left the room, escorting the doctor out after giving her a prescription of painkillers.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, sitting at the edge of her bed.

"Fantastic, thanks for asking," She said in an annoyed tone. "Where's Sofia and Mercedes?"

I looked at her with a frown. They tackled her, made her hit her head and fall unconscious for several hours, and she was wondering where they were? "I don't know." I answered truthfully.

"Why didn't you bring them along?" She said this while crossing her arms.

"Do you even remember what happened?" I shot back, starting to feel agitated.

I had saved her from serious injuries, and all she was worried about was her friends whom put her life in danger.

"Of course I do," She replied in the same tone, "They tackled me, so what? They're my friends. They do that all the time, it's not unusual! The whole reason why we went there was for you three to meet. If I'm going to have a bodyguard, my friends should probably be okay with you, since you're practically going to follow me around, right? So what's the big deal, huh?"

Her green eyes bore into mine, expecting an answer. What was the deal? I saved her, and she was mad at me for not treating her friends nicely? I did what a normal bodyguard would do. Wilson would probably do the same thing. What was the deal? I was worried for her safety. She wasn't. I should have expected that from a rebel.

"Nothing is." I muttered under my breath, getting up.

"Where are you going now? Hey. Hey! Don't leave me! We're not finished talking! Zayn, sit your ass back down!" She yelled after me, but I was already halfway to the door.

"I'm leaving, my shift is done. Is it not? Plus, I'll be back tomorrow, you're supposed to be in bed for the rest of tonight and tomorrow. You don't need me to watch over you, now do you?"

She looked taken aback by my reply. I could tell by the way that she turned away, that she felt embarrassed. "You're right. I don't need you to watch over me, " She mumbled, turning on her side to face the wall, opposite my direction.

"Just go." I didn't even need to be told twice.

On my way out, I bumped into Francis, "Tell Mr. Colton to call my father." I told him as I walked out the door.



I didn't know what exactly caused me to say what I did said. Zayn did a good job of protecting me from my friends. Especially on the first day. But I didn't want to go ahead and praise him just for that. Anyone would do that. Save a girl from falling. And it was only a small white lie.

They tackled me, so what? They're my friends. They do that all the time, it's not unusual!

So maybe they didn't tackle me all the time. But it was obvious that they were either really drunk, or on the way to being drunk. Sofia and Mercedes never yelled out my name in public, and they most definitely never tried to jump on my back either. I was only trying to defend them. But for what?

Why did Zayn's opinion of them matter to me? He was nothing. Just a body guard. He didn't have to like my friends. That wasn't a part of his job.

"I wish you were here, mom." I whispered to my pillow, my head beginning to hurt.



I woke up at dawn after falling asleep in the middle of the afternoon. My head didn't hurt as much but there was still a faint pounding behind my forehead that just didn't seem to go away. I rolled over, kicking the sheets off of me. The sun was beginning to rise, even though it was only 6:30. I had never been awake this early besides coming home after a party.

I pushed the blue button that was attached to the top of my bed's headboard. I used it to call Francis whenever I needed something. After a moment's wait, he arrived at the food of my bed with a silver platter and some chicken noodle soup with crackers.

"Good morning Miss Colton," he greeted me whilst giving me one of his brilliant smiles, placing the food down on my bedside table.

"G'morning," I replied tiredly, stretching my arms.

"What would you like me to do for you?"

"Would you please bring me my macbook and cellphone?" They were both lying on top of my desk, conveniently right across the room from me.

Francis obliged, taking slow strides back and forth, then gently placing my laptop on my lap. "Get well soon," He said before disappearing.

My father still hadn't come home to check up on me, which was good. But I was kind of hoping he'd come and yell at me. Or not necessarily at me, but more at Zayn. That, I would love to see. Okay, scratch that. I didn't want my father to yell at Zayn. It was my fault.

I scrolled through my facebook, reading my friends' statuses, liking their photos. I even went on twitter just for the hell of it. While doing so, I come across a friend retweeted from someone named @harry_styles. That name sounded familiar...

I went onto Google, typing in that name, and a bunch of youtube videos popped up. Wait a second, they were all of One Direction. That must have meant Harry was one of the singers.. I spent rest of the morning listening to their music. I was enjoying myself until he walked in.

Tell me I'm a screwed up mess,
That I never listen, listen
Tell me you don't want my kiss,
That you need your distance, distance.
Tell me anything but don't you say he's what you're missing baby..

"What are you doing?" He rushed over, pulling the laptop of my lap, and pausing the song.

"You never told me you were a singer." I replied coolly, with a smirk on my face.

"I didn't think I'd have to tell you." He frowned, still holding my laptop.

"I was going to find out one way or another," I pointed out before changing the topic. "So why'd you quit?"

"I didn't want to quit. And frankly, I didn't want to take this job. As a bodyguard. But most of all, as yours." My eyes grew wide in awe, his words actually stung.

"What makes you say that?" My voice was beginning to raise.

"For one point, you're a party animal. You're a rebel, so most likely you'll try anything to get me in trouble, to make my job a living hell. And for another, we have nothing in common."

I felt my cheeks go red, "You don't know me, so why would you say we have nothing in common? We just met yesterday. So we should spend today getting to know each other."

He dismissed my suggestion with a wave of his hand, sitting himself upon my desk chair, placing my laptop on the desk beside my computer's keyboard. "Has Mr. Colton come home yet? He still needs to call me father."

His change in demeanor confused me. Did he not want to get to know me better? What was so wrong with me that made him not want to take the job?

"I-I don't know where he is. He hasn't come home yet either." I replied sheepishly.

He frowned. "How's your head?" Once again, changing the topic.

"Better." I mumbled.

We sat there in silence, looking at the ground. What should I say?

"Why don't you talk about your mother?" He asked, breaking the silence.

I looked up to seeing his brown eyes staring right back at me. "She's dead. Died almost two years ago. June eighteenth, two thousand and twelve."

061810

"Car accident?" Zayn asked.

"Airplane accident." I corrected him.

His eyes grew wide in shock, "I'm sorry. For asking."

I shrugged my shoulders, "It's alright. How about you? You don't talk much about your family."

"My father is the reason why I quit One Direction." He spat in disgust. "If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here."

"Oh." Was All I could manage to say.

You really hate me that much?