Surprises

Awkwardness

A situation that I haven't been in since I entered the wrong class when I was in nineth grade.

It was a rainy Wednesday, and my siblings were apparently running late already, so my dad just went on and gave them a ride to school, leaving me in the house without even waking me up. Despite having multiple Maseratis' parked in our driveway, only dad and mom know how to operate them. I tried running one when I was bored one time, and I almost literally got into a car crash.

That's the reason why I never attempted to get behind the wheel until I got my driver's license, which didn't happen until I turned twenty-one.

Unfortunately, I don't have access to those luxury cars that my family used to own by the time I reached adulthood because of the man who's sitting across from me.

If it wasn't for him, I'd probably still have everything.

"Now I want you to go to your room and think about what you did." Zayn ordered his daughter in a stern tone as Maxwell and I listened to the whole thing.

"Dude, we both know that that's not going to work," Maya said, folding her arms across her chest as if she just heard the dumbest thing ever.

I just wondered if the two of them ever talked like how a normal daughter and father would.

"Don't dude me," said Zayn, gripping both sides of his waist like an angry mom. "Go. To. Your. Room." He added, making every syllable sound loud and clear.

But instead of being ashamed— or even just showing signs of remorse, Maya just rolled her eyes at her father before doing what she was told.

Well, she gave me that knowing look first before making her way up the stairs.

It would be best for everyone's interest if I pretend that she didn't just do that though.

Zayn would kill us both if we got into more trouble.

"That child is going to be the end of me," Zayn groaned as he massaged his temples with his hands.

Maxwell laughed at his son's statement.

"Girls make our family fun, son," said the old man. "Your mom and your sisters were like that too." He added.

Zayn smiled at that.

It wasn't an entirely happy smile, though. I can read people just by looking at their eyes.

And Zayn's eyes tells a lot of stories.

"Yeah," Zayn agreed. "Menace with a sweet side." He added as he sat down next to me, so now we're sitting across from his father.

"Don't forget the gorgeous part; she might knock your favorite lamp down," Maxwell joked, causing Zayn to laugh a little.

"She wouldn't do that. It was hers," Zayn said, pushing his hair back while he kept that smile.

As the room turned quiet after Zayn said that, I couldn't help but feel a pit of discomfort. I mean, I know that they're talking about Maxwell's dead wife, who probably died because of me.

And I'm not really ready yet to tell them what I did.

I want my confessions to be dramatic.

Even if It means ending behind bars for the rest of my life.

"How are you, dad?" Zayn asked as he leaned against the backrest of the couch, obviously interested in what his father was about to say.

The old man cracked a sad smile at that.

"A little lonely, but I'm fine," he answered.

Deserve, I thought to myself.

"Oh, do you want to hang out for a bit longer ?" Zayn asked again, which the old man instantly grinned at.

Knowing that they were talking about personal matters, I stood up from the couch ready to leave. I know that this is the right thing to do because I still have things that I need to get back on.

I could've finished them already if Maya hadn't chosen to interfere with my time earlier though.

"I should probably get going now," I said, dusting off my shirt. "You two have fun." I added awkwardly, before I started walking away.

Well, I tried walking away.

"That's not very nice, darling," Zayn said as he gripped my wrist with his big hand, stopping me from going any further. "I haven't even introduced you to my dad yet." He added.

I don't know what the actual hell he meant when he flashed me his eyebrows, but it

made me sit back down to where I was seated just a few moments ago. As soon as I did this, he immediately wrapped one of his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

Well, this is going south.

I could've actually pushed him away— or maybe even punched him—but the side-looks that he was giving me were silently saying 'this is not the right time. Please cooperate.'

Not knowing what else to do, I just let him drag me close to him, and when I was close enough to actually whisper something without the old man hearing, I took that opportunity and snaked my noodle arms around his neck as if I were hugging him.

God, this felt so weird and so good at the same time.

"What the actual hell?" I whispered to his ear, placing my lips near his upper cheek as if I were kissing him.

"Just say that you were kidding," he whispered back, turning his head towards my face until our lips were almost touching. "Say it, love." He added, before moving his lips up to the tip of my nose and giving me a small peck.

But before I could even get to that fact, he had already smiled at me for the final time and pulled away. I could have said something about it to him even with that, but I wasn't given the chance to.

Why the hell does everybody keep interrupting me?

"Zayn Harold," Maxwell said in an offended tone, stopping me from saying what I wanted to say. "How come I didn't know about this?" He asked with a hurt expression.

"We just started dating a few weeks ago," he said, placing his palm on my right thigh. "I haven't seen you in awhile." He added, darting his attention back to his father.

Okay, so first, I played chase with his psychotic daughter. And now I'm playing girlfriend with him?

Where's the fucking HR? I'm filing a complaint. I'm sure that this wasn't on the job description.

"Oh," said Maxwell, out of realization. "When are you planning on telling me then?" He asked again.

Taking his hand off my thigh, Zayn leaned on the couch with one of his arms dangling from the backrest.

"Tonight," he answered with a click of his tongue. "It's the day of the month, dad. I made a reservation." He added.

"So you remembered?" Maxwell smiled. "I really thought you forgot. That's why I came here." He added.

"Oh, please, dad," said Zayn with a roll of his eyes. "I've been looking forward to it since the last time we did it. Our schedule doesn't really like social matters." He added.

"Tell me about it," Maxwell challenged, crossing his legs. "Who's going to look after Maya, though? I'm sure her old babysitters wouldn't be interested." He added, making Zayn turn his attention back to me.

And then he smiled.

Like— deviously smiled.

"They're actually having a girls night," he said. "Sabrina's taking her out." He added.

By this point, I couldn't take it anymore.

This is too much.

"I am not babysitting that tyke of yours," I declared, cutting him off from saying anything more. "I have plans for tonight." I added, talking about the girls' night that I planned with Kylie on the phone earlier.

"Well, yes, love," he said. "That's the reason why this is the perfect opportunity for the both of us. You're having a girls' night— so clearly I'm out of the picture, and you and Maya have been clearly excited about this since yesterday." He added, baffling me.

Okay, he's clearly lying. I never get excited.

Just angry, anxious, and depressed.

"I was?" I asked.

"Yep, I bought the three of you matching outfits when I passed by Prada earlier." He grinned, pointing at the shopping bags on the other side of the room. "It's the least I could do." He added.

Although I don't really like the set-up of this entire situation since it's literally fucked up, I was also quite curious about how he managed to know my plans. I haven't mentioned it to anyone, and the only person who knew about it was Kylie.

This man has surprises.

"Go and check it out, Sabs," he said, motioning towards the bags.

Curious as I was, I walked all across the room and went to where the bags were.

There were multiple of them, and when I looked at the note outside the bags, I knew that I didn't need to look at the pricetags to know that he bought us expensive shit.

Turning my head, I looked back at Zayn, and he immediately nodded his head in approval.

Taking his hint, I opened the first bag and saw an entire set of leather outfits. There was a jacket matched with leather pants, and a designer top that perfectly complements the leather boots which probably goes with the outfit as well. I did the same thing with the other bags and saw that three of the bags were composed of identical outfits.

I don't really give a shit about an object's price, but I do care about its quality.

And as I run my delicately manicured hands on the soft leather, I know that I'm going out tonight.

"I'm taking her out," I declared. "But we are so talking about this arrangement."