Teenaged - Harry Styles

Chapter 1.

"Emma, this is a waste of time. They're probably already on the field. Can we go now?"

She admits she's obsessing a bit, but it's necessary this time. She can't miss this. She's been waiting all season for this moment.

"Em? Come on, we're going to be late."

Her best friend's nagging continues, but she knows her intentions are good. If they're late for rehearsal once more, Mrs. Fischer will probably murder them. The leads for the school musical have gotten less vocal training this week than the extras.

But still, she clutches the textbooks in her arms against her chest, keeping a hopeful eye glued to the locker room door.

"You can go on without me, Claire," she says, "I don't want you to get in trouble."

Emma hears her sigh softly.

"Alright, we'll wait for two more minutes. If he's not here by then, we'll just come back tomorrow. Deal?"

"Deal," Emma agrees even though she knows she's returning the next day regardless.

She continues her patient wait, leaning against the cold brick wall painted blue and white for school spirit. He told her he would be here right at this time, ten minutes after the last bell rang dismissing class. He's late, but he's never once let her down before.

Just as Claire's allotted time limit is about to expire, the doors burst open and Emma's eyes brighten.

The linebackers and receivers run out first, the sounds of their sneakers skidding against the tiled floor. Among them is Coach Martin pushing a cart overloaded with brightly colored cones and a giant bag of extra balls. A few of the players nod at the two girls as they pass them and Emma recognizes some from her classes.

Then, he finally makes his appearance, jogging a bit slower than those surrounding him to give himself ample time to stop in front of her.

He looks even better than she's used to. His skin is tanned from the hours of practice in the sun. The shoulder pads add to his already broad stature and thetight bottoms hug his lean quad muscles. Emma marvels over the thick curls of his hair pulled back out of his eyes by a black headband, knowing they'll soon be confined to the shiny helmet he's holding in his hand.

"The jersey suits you," she says with a smile. It's the first time she's had the pleasure of seeing him in the school's new football gear and the long wait has surely been worth it.

"Thanks, gorgeous," he grins, kissing her cheek. His eyes then glance behind her as he says hello to Claire.

"Hey, quarterback," she responds with sass, "Nice of you to show up, finally."

"Sarcasm has always been your forte, Claire," he smirks before turning back to Emma, "Sorry, Coach gave us another lecture after we changed."

"It's alright," she assures him.

He leans in closer to her. "Are we still on for Friday?" he asks with a smile.

Emma blushes, feeling temporarily taken aback by the hopeful emerald eyes staring back into hers.

"Of course," she says with a nod.

"Lovely," he grins before using his free hand to tilt her head up by her chin. His lips press to hers and she can feel the smile lingering.

"Oh, would you look at that. There's my cue to leave," they hear Claire say as she begins to walk away from the corner they're in.

He chuckles lightly and Emma jumps to call out to her.