drifter [larry au] (on hold)

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Peoples opinions on Harry Styles:

"Harry Styles... how do I even begin to explain him? Most people would use the word perfect to describe him, but not me. Yeah he's got the looks, the money, the style, and a nice ass car, but he's far from perfect. People like him for what's on the outside but once you get to know him... he's a total jerk!"

"Harry is really cool! He is really popular, and he's so fucking hot! Last year he hung out with me and some friends at a club and ended up punching some guy who called me a bitch, only for him to call me a bitch too, but I was fine with it! He's such a gentlemen!"

"He used to be one of my close friends. I used to go to his house and swim with him and his sister Gemma, but when High School started our friendship faded and he became a total jerk. Everyone likes him and stuff, and honestly I don't blame them! He has really good looks and his family has a lot of money! But I don't really talk to him anymore."

"He hooked up with my sister and he's hot!"

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Harrys POV

Today is the day. This is it. It's the first day of eleventh grade. I went out last Friday night and got some new clothes. I had to take some extra money from mum so that I could get the clothes that I actually wanted. I have to look good at school, I always have to. Cause if I go one day without looking good, people will assume that something is wrong, and they will ask about it.

I hate when people ask if something is wrong, like they actually care! The only reason people like me is because I'm rich, and apparently I am good looking. Other than that I'm a total dick! Of course I would love to change, but I can't. Everybody knows me as a dick and if I act happy and care about people... then something's wrong, something is always wrong.

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I pull up to the school in my Black Porsche, locked my car and walked towards the entrance I see some of the people that I used to be friends with in Middle School. I give them a small smile, nod, and continue to walk.

I walk through the doors in black skinny jeans, my boots, a white t-shirt, my black trench coat, and sunglasses. Everybody is staring at me, they always do. Some girls wink, some smile, some wave, some hand me their number, but then there are the ones that I like, the ones that ignore me and treat me like a normal human being. The guys just pat me on the back or my arm, or just simply wave or nod.

I turn the corner to go to my locker, and when ever I open it, some folded pieces of paper fall out. There are always notes in my locker. Weather it be a phone number, a letter, or just a dirty message, there is always at least five notes. I pick them up off the floor, peek into Mr.Hemmingsworth's class and throw them into the trashcan that sits beside the door.

I hate this life. I hate the people that are in love with me because I'm rich, I hate the people that I hook up with, I hate the people that think I'm perfect, I hate the people that think I'm okay. Because the truth is, I'm not.

Just like everybody else, I have problems to deal with at home. People see my big house and think 'I bet he's sitting in there at the table having a nice home cooked meal', but the only home cooked meals I have are microwavable mac' and cheese, and when I end up sitting at the table, I end up sitting alone.

I close my locker slowly, and walk across the hall to my first class of the day, AP History. This is one of my least favorite classes, I have always hated History, I don't even know how I got into an AP class.

I walk in and sit in the chair that is at the back in the corner. The less people I'm around, the better. I set my books in the desk in front of mine so that no one will sit here. Once the bell rings, all the desks are full except for the one in front of me.

Mr.Hoodkin was up at the board talking about something about Prince Louis or something like that. After about 10 minutes of class, the door opened and in stepped some guy that I have never seen before in my whole life. Maybe he's new? "Mr.Tomlinson, you're late, again." Or maybe not. But I know everybody at this school, how have I never seen this boy before? Oh well, it doesn't matter anyway.

"Mr. Styles I'm going to have to ask you to please remove your books from that desk, it seems to be the only one that doesn't have an actual human in it, thank you." I lean forward and pick up my books off the desk and set them on the floor beside of me.

The boy walks back towards me and sits down. He turns around, "Hi, this class is so boring! I knew I should have skipped again. I used to be all smart and stuff you know but then after 6th grade I started failing. But the only class that I have ever failed is His-" I look up above him, and see Mr.Hoodkin staring down at him, "Mr.Tomlinson, are we gonna have a problem with you sitting back here? Do you and Taylor need to switch seats?". Taylor is this girl that I hooked up with one night and I told her that it wasn't gonna happen again but now she just wont leave me alone! I really hope they don't switch! "No sir" the boy says quietly and turns back to face the bored.

I feel something rubbing my leg and I reach down to see what it is and it's... a hand? I reach down and grab whatever was in the boys hand. It was a small crumbled piece of paper. I unfolded it and it read 'Sorry for getting you in trouble. Oops!' I slightly chuckled at it. I grabbed my pencil out of my pocket and write back to him the only thing I could think to say, 'Hi'

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So this is shit.

It's so cheesy like what the fuck! Someone take Wattpad away from me.

.___. whale... I love every single one of you! <3

-hailey x