The Things You Mean to Me // Harry Styles Series #1 - Holmes Chapel

She's Not Afraid Of All The Attention

I invited Emma over to hang out on Sunday. We compared schedules: we'd be in French, Science, and Language Arts together.

"That's too bad you won't know anyone in Maths or History. I mean, you will after a few days, but it would be nice to have someone in each class on the first day."

"I do know someone in History. We met yesterday."

"Who's that?"

"A boy named Harry. He was working at the bakery when I went yesterday morning."

"That's Harry Styles. He's cool. He's the singer in Haydn's band."

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

Emma laughed, "Not at the moment... Why? Do you fancy him?"

"He seems nice, and kind of cute. I don't know."

Emma laughed outright. "You do fancy him! Well, he's a catch, so don't waste any time. It's been two months since he dumped Sammi; although to hear her tell it, she did the dumping. And she said some really mean stuff about him.

"I'm friends with some of his mates, though, and I got the real story. He was tired of her hanging on him in public and not wanting him to spend time with the band. So if you're interested just remember you'll have to share him with White Eskimo."

"White Eskimo? Who came up with that one?"

"I don't know, but don't make fun of it. Those boys are really proud of the band. They're going to play at the Valentine's dance."

We talked classes, mean girls – evidently Harry's ex Sammi was one – and other cute boys. Emma dished on faculty scandals, what to avoid in the lunch line, and just how short a girl could wear her uniform skirt before getting called to the office. It was an informative afternoon.

When she came to get Emma before dinner, Mrs. Hayes offered to pick me up in the morning. I thanked her, but I thought I'd like to arrive on my own for my first day. I did accept her offer to get me on really cold or wet days in the future.

Dad and I had a quiet dinner in front of a movie. He would leave before I was up, so he wished me good luck as I went upstairs to take a bath before going to bed. I had expected to toss and turn, nervous about the day ahead, but I fell asleep fast and slept hard.

~

It was grey the next morning, but not wet or too cold. I braided my hair, tying the heavy single plait off with a tiny gold ribbon bow, and managed to get my tights on without putting my fingers through them. I was pretty sure the last time I'd worn them my age had been a single digit.

The butterflies in my belly weren't going to share space with breakfast, so I put on my coat, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and took one last peek in the front hall mirror before I left.

Here's what I saw: A pretty girl. Not beautiful or exotic or anything. But pretty. Ebony hair, big dark blue eyes, full cheeks, normal nose. Mom always said that my chin was firm and strong, in a feminine way. Dad says it's stubborn. Dad keeps shit real. Evidently I have his mouth, in a girly way. Full lips, a winning smile, and one slightly crooked second tooth we've both chosen not to get fixed. It adds character.

So as I looked in the mirror I was confident that I wouldn't stand out either way, good or bad. Taking a deep breath, I opened the front door and stepped into the crisp winter morning.

Harry was sitting on the low wall between the yard and sidewalk.

"Hello, Olivia. I thought I might walk you to school, if you don't mind."