“So your dad kicked him out?” Melody asks incredulously as we walk down the streets.
It was Saturday afternoon, and Melody and I were walking in the streets of Holmes Chapel. I was dressed in denim shorts with a peach blouse tucked in, with nude flats. My light brown hair was flowing around in the wind as I looked around the seemingly peaceful town. The wind blew around slightly, making the trees dance and leaves fly around.
Looking back at Melody, I sighed. “Dad didn’t exactly kick him out,” I tell her, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “He just told me how he didn’t exactly like Harry. And I guess Harry heard and decided to leave.”
I had told Melody all about how rude Dad was with Harry yesterday, and how Harry had probably heard what Dad was saying. To be honest, I felt sort of bad about my father’s behavior towards Harry. I know that no one wants someone to just say they don’t like them so suddenly just like Dad did with Harry. It’s rude and uncalled for.
“Your dad scares me,” Melody murmurs as we make our way towards Debbie’s Diner.
We didn’t have work today, but Melody and I some times like to go to the diner to just chill and hang out. It’s one of the main places to be on the weekends. I laugh as Melody’s statement. “Same here, Mel,” I say. “And he’s my Dad, for Christ’s sake.”
Melody and I enter the diner, and I see a bunch of people from school are here. The two of us walk to where the bar stools are, and cleaning the counter on the other side was Zoe, another girl who worked here. She had wavy golden blonde hair with blue eyes, and had a tall figure. She’s really pretty too, and is dating a freshman from some college not too far from here.
“Hey you two,” Zoe smiles when she sees us. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” I smile. “What about you? Been busy around here?”
Zoe shrugs, putting the cleaning rag away. “It’s alright,” she says.
Melody and I hang around for a while, talking to Zoe and drinking the milkshakes we later on had ordered. As we talk, the diner’s doors suddenly burst open. A guy who I recognized as a Year 11 student in my school came panting in, out of breath. “There’s a fight! At the park across the street!” he exclaims.
Everyone exchange looks before standing up and running out the diner. Melody, Zoe, and I exchange looks before getting up as well and following the crowd to the park that was built across from the diner. As we approached, I saw already several people standing around something or someone, yelling and shouting. Well, cheering, to be exact. Zoe, Melody, and I pushed our way through the crowd, trying to get to the front to see who in the world is fighting.
My eyes widened and an involuntary gasp escaped my lips when I saw who it was. It was Harry fighting some guy from our grade. He was a big guy, a bit bigger than Harry, and had blood coming out of his nose. My eyes trailed over to Harry as he glared hard at the guy, his jaw clenching and unclenching. I watched as he brought up his fist and smashed it against the guy’s face, sending the guy flying over and falling on his back.
I watched helplessly as Harry beat the crap out of the guy, throwing punch after punch and kicks here and there. I caught sight of Zayn, Louis, Liam, and Niall, who just smirked and stood by, not bothering to stop their friend from killing the guy. I watched as Harry picked the guy up by his collar effortlessly and pushed his back against the tree, lifting him off the ground. Harry leaned in and whispered something in the guy’s ear, before letting him go and letting him sink on to the ground.
Harry wipes some blood off of his upper lip, and I notice there’s a slight bruse forming on his right jaw. I bite my bottom lip as Harry walks over to where his friends are, and notice how everyone is just either checking on the injured guy or clapping for Harry; the majority taking the latter.
As I watch Harry, I see as a small smirk forms back on his face as he looks at the guy lying on the tree bottom, surrounded by a few other guys who seem to be his friends. Harry looks over at the crowd, and suddenly, our eyes meet. I freeze as Harry’s green orbs stare into my blue ones, looking into me. Our eye contact suddenly breaks as I feel Melody shake me.
“Come on, Elena,” she says, pulling me by my upper arm. “We need to get out of here.”
I let her pull me away from the spot I’m standing in, my gaze locking at Harry once again as he runs a hand through his curly hair. Dropping my gaze from him, I let Melody drag me away as Zoe follows our lead. Melody’s pulls on my hand as we say goodbye to Zoe and walk down the streets.
“Did you see the way his muscles clenched?” Melody suddenly bursts out as we walk.
I shake my head. “Wha – huh?” I ask.
Melody gives me a funny look. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, giving her a reassuring smile.
To be honest, I was a bit distracted. I couldn’t get the look of Harry’s face out of my head. He seemed so deadly, like if he could, he would have killed that guy. I’ve never seen anyone so mad. Harry’s green eyes had seemed to darken into a black-ish color, lacing with anger as he pounded the guy. He honestly looked terrifying, and I couldn’t even recognize him properly.
But something about him being so angry was sort of... attractive. It’s weird, and I can’t explain it. He looked kind of... sexy? Oh my God, why am I thinking like this all of a sudden? And when have I ever thought that Harry Styles was sexy?
I shake my head, walking along with Melody. I need to get these thoughts of Harry out of my head. As the two of us continue walking, Melody lets out a sigh. “Did you see Zayn? He looked so hot.”
I roll my eyes. “Zayn’s probably one of the dateable ones, Mel,” I tell her. “Just go for it.”
“Are you crazy?!” she exclaims. “He’s too hot for me.”
I give her a look. “Are you crazy?” I ask incredulously. “You’re gorgeous, Mel! Any guy would be lucky to have you.”
Melody smiles, and then says, “Girl, we need to get boyfriends.”
I give her a high five, grinning. “Amen to that.”
I was beyond frustrated.
Not only did Harry still not e-mail me the pictures for the presentation, but I got a ninety percent on my history test. The project for English class was due in a week and a half, and I still need Harry’s photos. I keep thinking that he’s going to send them to me soon, but no, I end up being stumped. The presentation already has the questions and answers on it, and my pictures are on it as well. Harry’s pictures are all that I’m missing, and it’s getting agravating. I just want to finish the project, relax, and put my attention on my other subjects.
The ninety I recieved on my history test is eating my alive. I hadn’t got much time to study for that test because of the project, and once my parents see the ninety, they’re going to blow. A ninety is a B+, and I have never gotten anything lower than an A-. My parents just may kill me when they see that dreaded B+.
I walk down the hallway as I go into the cafeteria. I quickly get on line for lunch and buy myself some pizza and a small bag of chips. Walking over to where my friends were sitting, I put my tray down and sit down with a slump.
“Are you okay?” Becca chuckles.
I sigh. “I’m frustrated,” I say. I then explain to them why and they just chuckle.
“Why don’t you just ask him to email you the pictures already?” Candice asks, biting into her tuna sandwhich.
“I want to but...” I trail off, my eyes wandering over to where Harry is sitting with his friends.
“But nothing,” Melody says. “Just go ask him.”
“I’ll do it later,” I say. “Just not now.”
The rest of the day goes by fast, and soon enough it’s time to go home. Once I have my books and bag, I walk down the hallway and out of the school. As I approach my car, I find Harry approaching his own. Making a B-line, I quickly walk over to him, wanting those pictures.
“Harry,” I call out.
He suddenly stops walking and turns around. His green eyes meet my blue ones, curly hair covering some of his eyes. He’s wearing his regular jeans, Converse, and a simple black tee that has some of his tattoos peeking from under it. He quirks an eyebrow, looking down at me.
“Yeah?” he asks slowly, voice deep.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Can you just email me your pictures?” I ask, exhasperated. “I’m almost done with the project and I just need your pictures,” I add, getting a bit annoyed.
He looks at me, smirk on his face. “What’s gotten you so riled up?” he asks.
“No-” I was cut off by my phone ringing. I sigh, taking my phone out to check who it is. My blood runs cold when I see that it’s Dad. He only ever calls me if it’s an emergency, about my grades, or if I’m ever in trouble. Biting my bottom lip, I pick it up. “Hello?”
“What is that bloody B+ that I see on your history test?!” Dad’s angry voice shouts.
I flinch, pulling the phone away from my ear from keeping my ear drum from bursting. Harry looks at me curiously, but I just ingore him. “Dad, I can explain,” I begin with a sigh, but he cuts me off.
“There’s nothing to explain, Elena,” Dad snaps. “You didn’t study hard enough and that’s why you failed that test.”
My jaw drops. “I didn’t fail it! It’s only a B+, Dad.”
“It’s the same thing compared to an F,” he retorts. “Get home, right now. You are to study hard when you come home.”
My face drops as he says this. All I ever do is study, and it’s never enough for him. Before I could even argue, Dad hangs up the phone. I drop the phone from my ear and put it in my pocket. I forgot Harry was standing right in front of me, and he gives me a look as he raises an eyebrow.
“Daddy not happy with a B+?” Harry pouts mockingly.
I huff. “Just email me the damn pictures,” I snap, before turning around and walking back towards my car. Getting into my car, I look out the window only to see Harry smirking at me from his car. Yup, that smirk never leaves his face.
As I drive back to my house, the nerves start building up. When Dad is angry, it’s scary. He starts yelling and ranting about how I didn’t try hard enough and he makes me feel bad. Seeing Dad angry shakes me up, and sometimes I don’t know what he’s gonna do. At times, I think he’s gonna raise a hand and just slap me – which he’s never done before. But I always feel like that he’s going to at one point or another, and I’m just not prepared for that.
Once I pull up into the drive way of my house, I kill the engine of my car and get out as I walk up to the front door. Taking a deep breath, I walked into the house and slowly stepped into the living room. As I did, the kitchen door opened and in came Lucy. “Oh, Elena, you’re here,” she smiles slightly. “Your father wants to see you in his study.”
I freeze. “O-Okay,” I stutter, feeling more nervous by the second.
She gives me a small, encouraging smile. “You’ll be okay, love.”
I nod and go up the flight of stairs to the third floor. Once I get there, I knock on the door of his study, waiting for his response. “Come in,” I hear Dad’s firm voice say. I bite the inside of my bottom lip as I walk into his study.
Dad’s study can relate to a library. In the right corner is his study table that has his paper work. The walls are basically shelves of books that I doubt he’s read, and a computer table in the other corner of the room. I approach Dad and stand in front of his table as he looks up at me from behind his glasses.
“Um, you wanted to see me?” I ask, fidgeting.
Dad takes off his glasses and looks at me. “I don’t like seeing that B, Elena,” he says. “Why didn’t you study?”
“Dad, I did, I just didn’t have enough time to,” I argue.
“Enough time to?” he raises an eyebrow. “Your focus should be on studying all of the time, Elena. You should have more than enough time to study.”
“I’m working on a project that’s worth a lot for my English class and I guess I just didn’t study hard enough,” I say nervously, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“I want to see A’s on your report card, Elena!” he suddenly shouts, slamming his hand on the top of his desk, making me jump. “Not a bloody B!” Dad then looks at me, eyes narrowing. “Do your grades have anything to do with that Harry boy? Is he distracting you?”
My eyes widen and jaw drops. Is he seriously bringing Harry into this? “No! He has nothing to do with this! Why are you even bringing him into this?” It makes no sense as to why Harry is even involved. I mean, Dad only saw Harry once and he’s already blaming him for my semi-bad grade.
“That boy isn’t good news, Elena,” Dad snaps, totally ignoring my question. “Stay away from him.”
My jaw clenches. Not that I don’t want to be near Harry, but Dad can’t tell me who I can stay away from and can’t. I’m seventeen years old; he can’t tell me what to do.
“Okay,” I answer, keeping my inner battle to myself.
Dad looks at me for a couple of seconds before saying, “Go.”
I bite my lip as I walk out of his study, closing the door behind him. I run down to the second floor before and go into my room, shutting the door. Tears sting in my eyes suddenly, and I try to blink them back. Why am I crying? A tear escapes my eye as I reach up and wipe it away. I hear my laptop ding and I stand up to go look at it. Sniffling, I sit down on my chair and open the lid of the laptop. Once my screen lights up, I see that I have a new email. And it’s from Harry. Clicking it, I see that Harry has sent me a lot of pictures, enough for the project.
There were pictures of him with his friends and pictures of him with two women. One who I think is his mum because she has the same dimples and features as him, and the other who doesn’t look much older than Harry, but has dimples as well. His sister.There were pictures of Harry with his family and friends, but none of which could be of his dad. Not a single picture of him with his dad, and that got me curious. What happened to him?
I clicked through the pictures, each bringing a smile on to my face. He looked so different than he did in the pictures. In the photos, he actually looked like he was having fun, and his smirk was replaced with a genuine smile that showed both dimples. I save each picture as I open up the Power Point. Time to finish this project once and for all.