“Guys, I’m serious, kill me,” I groan, sitting down at our regular lunch table. Melody and I sit at the center table of the cafeteria with two of our other closest friends, Rebecca and Candice.
Rebecca was a spunky girl with blonde curly hair and light brown eyes. She’s one of the cheerleaders, but isn’t a slut like you would think. Rebecca, also known as Becca, is one of the funniest people I know, and is average in school. Candice has dark brown hair that reaches her shoulders with bangs that cover some of her dark brown eyes. She’s a bit on the shy side, but once you’re really close to her, she’s really loud.
“What’s wrong?” Becca asks, chewing on her crutons from her salad.
I sigh, putting my lunch tray down and sitting in the chair between Melody and Candice. “You know that English project Mr. H always assigns every year?” I ask, and they nod. “Well, guess who my partner is.”
“Who?” the three of them ask.
“Harry Styles,” I groan, picking up my Vitamin Water and drinking from it.
The girls eyes widen. “No wonder he’s been eyeing you for so long,” Melody smirks.
I frown in confusion and she nods her head towards a direction. I turn my head and see that in fact, the curly haired boy was staring at me. He was sitting in the left corner of the cafeteria with his friends. He was surrounded by the other four boys as his green eyes stared into my blue ones, a slight smirk on his face. Does that smirk ever disappear?!
Rolling my eyes, I turn back around to face my friends. “He is so annoying,” I say, picking up a fish stick and biting it.
“But hot,” Candice grins.
I grunt. “And now we have to work on this damn project together.”
“When’s it due?” Becca asks.
“In three weeks,” I reply. “But I just wanna get it done and over with as soon as possible.”
Melody snickers. “Good luck with that,” she says, causing me to shove her with my elbow.
It was time to go home, and I was walking down to my locker to grab my stuff. Opening it up, I grabbed the textbooks I needed and put in the books I didn’t need. Once I was done, I shut my locker, only to jump up in fright to see that Harry was leaning against the lockers next to mine.
“What do you want?” I huffed, fishing for my car keys in my bag.
“I want to get this project done,” Harry says. “So my house or yours?”
I stop looking for my keys and raise my eyebrows at him. “Excuse me?” I ask.
Harry rolls his green eyes. “Should we go to my house or yours to start this thing?”
I bite my tongue, my jaw clenching. “My house,” I simply say, before walking out the doors and towards the parking lot.
I can hear Harry’s feet as they walk behind me, and then they get softer as he approaches his car. He gets into his drivers seat as I get into the drivers seat of my own car. Starting it up, the two of us back up and drive out of the parking lot, as Harry follows me down the road as we head towards my house. Once we get there, I park my car in the empty drive way and Harry parks his Volvo behind mine. I get out of my car the same time he does, and I catch him staring up at my house.
It’s a pretty big house for only a family of four. Not to mention, it becomes a house for only three when Tyler leaves for college. The only people besides my parents and I are the cook. Lucy, our cook, is one of the sweetest people ever. Not only is she our cook, but she is like a mother to me. My own mum is busy with work, and I can never confide with her my feelings or what I’m going through or anything else a mother could have a talk with her daughter of. So that’s where Lucy comes in. She helps me when it comes to making important decisions, and just is generally a nice person.
“Wow,” I hear Harry mutter as we walk up to my front door.
My house was three stories high. On the ground floor was the giant family room with a big flat screen TV, the dining room, and the big kitchen. It also had a door in the back which led to our unnaturally big back yard. On the second floor was where mine and Tyler’s rooms are located along with the guest room. My room has a balcony on it, so it’s a great view and a place for me to just go out and get a bit of fresh air. And on the top floor is where my parents’ room is, along with their seperate study rooms. I barely go up there, seeing as I have no reason to go up there.
Unlocking the front door, I walk in with Harry following me. “Um, we can work in the dining room,” I say, licking my bottom lip.
“Whatever,” he shrugs, not seeming to care.
I roll my eyes as I lead him to where the dining room is. As we walk in, the kitchen door that connects the dining room and kitchen opens and it reveals Lucy. She’s a woman who keeps her black hair tied into a bun and wears an apron over her clothes all the time. She has rosy cheeks and think lips, but a smile is always on her face and her hazel eyes always seem to sparkle.
“Elena, you’re home,” she smiles, and then her eyes move past me and on to the boy behind me. “And you have a friend over.”
I force a smile. “Yeah, uh, we’re just gonna be working on a project,” I tell her, setting my bag down.
Lucy nods. “Do you need any snacks?”
I shake my head. “No, no. We’re fine. Thanks, Lucy.”
“If you need anything, just tell me,” she smiles, before going back into the kitchen.
I let out a breath as I sit down on one of the seats. Harry sits down as well across from me, and I take out a notebook and a pen. “So I guess we should start writing some questions.”
“Yup,” Harry says, taking out his own notebook and a pen.
For the next ten minutes, the two of us start to write down questions we would ask each other. I bite my bottom lip as I think of questions, and then write them down for Harry to answer. Once I had twenty questions writte down, I look up at Harry. I find him still writing down the last few of his questions, his curly hair covering his eyes. When he’s done writing, I quickly look away so it doesn’t look like I’m staring.
“You done?” I ask.
Harry nods. “Yeah, here,” he says, sliding over his paper.
I give him mine and I look down at his questions, picking up my pen to begin and answer them. Looking at his questions, I feel impressed that most of his questions are decent. With the exception of one or two.
1. Favorite animal?
2. What type of music do you listen to?
Pop and Jazz.
3. Favorite eye color on a guy?
Blue or green.
4. What’s your hobby?
I love taking pictures and reading.
5. Your dream job?
My parents want me to become a lawyer. But I wanna be a writer.
6. Do you ever feel like people put too much pressure on you?
Yeah; it’s too much.
7. What’s your favorite book?
All of the Harry Potter books along with the Hunger Games.
8. What’s your favorite movie?
A Walk To Remember.
9. What’s your deepest regret?
Wasting my time on worrying about what people think about me. I later decided that what they think doesn’t matter.
10. What’s your favorite childhood memory?
When we would have family barbeques. Now that’s nothing but a memory.
11. Have you ever spit in someone’s food when they were rude to you at Debbie’s Diner?
No matter how rude a customer is, I’d never do that. It’s disgusting.
12. What’s a turn on?
When boys bite their lips.
13. What city do you dream about living in and why?
Paris or California.
14. Biggest fear?
Disappointing my parents.
15. Holiday spot?
16. Cologne on a guy?
Bleu de Chanel or Axe.
17. Your favorite candy?
It’s a tie between M&Ms and lolipops.
18. What’s your favorite show?
Pretty Little Liars and The Vampire Diaries.
19. How do you feel when I call you ‘Little Miss Perfect’?
Annoyed. But I guess I’ll have to deal with it, huh?
20. Do you find me attractive? ;)
If it makes you feel any better, then yes.
Once I finish answering the questions, I put my phone down. A minute later, Harry finishes answering the questions as well, and he smirks at me. “Done?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah,” I say. “Um, we’re gonna need some pictures for the Power Point,” I tell him. “Can you like, e-mail me some pictures of you with your friends and family? I’ll make the Power Point.”
Harry looks at me for a moment, green eyes having a calculating look. “Are you gonna do the whole thing by yourself?” he asks, completely ignoring my question.
I shrug. “Um, I guess.”
Harry stays silent for a minute. “I’ll e-mail you the pictures by tomorrow morning,” he says.
I nod. “Can I have your paper?” I ask, glancing at the paper that had my questions and his answers on them. “I’ll put them into the presentation.”
Harry furrows his brown eyesbrows at me. “Why are you already rushing into this thing?” he asks, leaning forward with his arms folded on the table. “It’s not due for another three weeks.”
I bite my bottom lip, looking down. I look back up, only to have my blue eyes lock with his green ones. “I just, uh, want to get it done.”
“Trying to get rid of me, are we?” Harry inquires, his pink lips curving up into a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “It would be my dream,” I say, smirking myself.
Harry deeply chuckles. But before he can say anything, I hear the front door open. My eyes widen when I hear my father’s voice. “Elena? Are you home?” he asks. “Who’s car is that in the drive way?”
Harry looks at me as I stand up and walk over to where my dad is. I see him enter the living room, wearing a button down dark blue shirt with khaki pants. He had his brief case in hand and was looking at me questioningly. “Hey, Dad,” I smile uneasily.
“Who’s car is that, Elena?” Dad asks.
“It’s Harry’s,” I answer.
Dad furrows his eyebrows. “Who’s Harry?”
“This guy I’m working on a project with,” I tell him and as if on cue, Harry appears from behind me. Dad’s eyes travel from me to Harry, his eyes immediately hardening. Uh oh.
“Um, nice to meet you, sir,” Harry says, seeming uncomfortable. He had the right to be; Dad could be pretty scary. “I’m Harry.”
Dad’s blue eyes looked over at Harry, his jaw clenching as he looked in his appearence. He was scanning him. Dad looked back at me – or more so, glared. “Elena, can I talk to you? Privately.”
I bite my bottom lip and nod. I glance at Harry, giving him a small smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Harry nods, hands in his pockets as he sends me a small, barely there smile. I turn back to Dad as the two of us walk into the welcome hallway, and out of Harry’s ear shot. “I don’t like you hanging around that boy, Elena,” Dad says to me, getting straight to the point.
I’m a bit taken aback at his statement. I frown up at him. “Why?” is the first thing that tumbles out of my lips.
“He’s not good news,” Dad shakes his head. “Just the way he dresses tells me there’s nothing good about him.”
My lips part as I stare up at my dad. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s people judging someone so quickly. I mean, yeah Harry isn’t exactly good news, and I know that. I only know that because I go to school with him and I know him. But Dad? He doesn’t know a thing about him. He took one look at Harry and thinks that there’s something wrong with him. Instead of fighting back with my father, I just shake my head.
“He’s only going to be around for a couple of weeks, Dad,” I say quietly. “I told you; we’re working together for a project. Nothing more.”
“Keep it that way,” Dad nods. “After this project, I don’t want to see you anywhere near that boy.”
Now he was just going too far. “Dad –”
But he cuts me off. “Don’t argue with me, Elena,” he tells me. “I’m standing by what I said; and that’s that.”
Without letting me say anything, Dad walks away and up the stairs, going up to probably his study. I let out a breath, turning around and walking back to the living room. Walking in, I see Harry pick up his bag, and I frown at him.
“Where are you going?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“I think it’s time for me to go home,” Harry replies, voice low. “I don’t think I’m welcome here,” he adds, his green eyes trailing after the stair case.
I let out a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry about my dad. He can be a bit – ”
“Of a dick?” Harry finishes off, his smirk settling on his lips.
I glare at him, taking a bit of offence to that. “I was gonna say he can be a bit unreasonable,” I correct him.
Harry rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that too,” he says. Gripping the strap of his bag tighter, he says, “I’m gonna go.” I nod slightly as I watch him walk out the door. I follow him out the door and once he’s out, he turns and gives me a smirk. “See you around, Little Miss Perfect.”
I roll my eyes. “Goodbye, Harry,” I say, before shutting the door.
Walking back into the living room, I head over to the dining room where my stuff is. As I enter it, I notice the paper where I had written the questions down and Harry had answered. Picking it up, I looked at his answers.
1. Who’s your best friend?
Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, and Niall Horan.
2. What’s something that’s really important to you?
My paperplane necklace.
3. Any fears?
I’m not scared of anything.
4. Who do you love the most?
My mum and sister.
5. What’s your hobby?
Does partying count? ;)
6. What’s your favorite Italian food?
7. Magazines or comic books?
8. What color do you wear the most?
Black or dark blue.
9. Best childhood memories?
Me and my sister going to the park and playing.
10. Morning person or night person?
11. White chocolate or milk chocolate?
12. Favorite boy and girl name?
Boy – Joseph. Girl – Darcy.
13. Who do you text the most?
14. If you could turn back time, would you? What for?
I would, just to undo the past.
15. Do you have a criminal record?
Stole a Mercedez once.
16. Do you hate anyone?
Hate is a strong word; but there is one person I hate.
17. How many tattoos do you have?
18. Ever fallen in love?
19. What do you look for in a girl?
Funny, cute, works hard, sweet, blue eyes. Kind of like you ;)
20. Where do you see yourself in the future?
Hopefully a decent job.
I was both shocked and impressed at his answers. Impressed that he actually wants go get a good job and make something of himself. And shocked because he has stolen a car and has thirty six tattoos. Thirty six! My eyes trailed over his answer for question nineteen, a blush appearing on my cheeks. But as for his tattoos, I wonder what they are.
My parents absolutely hate tattoos; they despise them. They think tattoos are a way of ruining your body, because you are marking yourself. To my parents, tattoos are completely pointless and stupid. But to me, that’s a different story. I’ve always been interested in tattoos, because every time a person gets one, it has a different meaning. Each tattoo has a different story behind it as to why the person got it. And since Harry has thirty-six, I’m wondering what they are. Some of them are visible, but I never got a good look at them. To be honest, I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but I’m too scared to get it knowing my parents are against them.
Gathering the papers and picking up my bag, I went up to my bedroom. Closing the door, I threw my bag on the bed and grabbed my MAC laptop. Turning it on as I sat on my chair, I took the two papers and starting typing. Let’s get this presentation done.