Professor Styles

Chapter 9

The week flew by with nothing too interesting happening. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were pretty similar when referring to English, Mr Styles and I's petty arguments in class, could you even class them as arguments? Probably not. Both desperate to win though. On Friday Eleanor, Sasha and I went to town. We shopped, talked and thankfully the subject of Mr Styles hadn't come up. I assume Eleanor has forgotten or is perhaps waiting for the right time to ask again. 

During the week, I've found myself thinking about him. Everything about him. It's Saturday morning and I've spent the last two hours reading. Eleanor is sat on her bed tapping away at her phone. 

"Hey Eleanor, what do you want to do today?" I ask in a chirpy voice. 

"I don't know, I have something to ask you though." The tone of her voice destroys my chirpy mood. She sounds dead serious. 

"What is it?" I ask curiously. 

"What's the deal with you and Mr Styles? What happened when you stayed at his house?" she walks over to me and sits on my bed. 

"Nothing is going on." I lie. 

"Please don't lie to me, just tell me the truth. I know you're lying. I see the way he looks at you." She says, carefully. "The way you look at him."

"There is nothing going on." I snap. 

"Please. I'm worried about you. I thought we were friends." Her eyes look sad. I think about it for a while. 

"I've already told you. Nothing is going on." I snap again. 

She looks hurt. She is about to walk out, but turns at last second. "Please try to keep your head down with him."

It's a little late for that. I stay silent. She walks out.

I study, catch up on University work. I can't get caught behind. The hours roll by, I get a lot done though. 

I have two hours before he will be here. My stomach fills with butterflies. 

What do you even wear to one of these things? I can't help but think of what I might see tonight. I will see his other life. I can't help but feel giddy at the fact he chose me. He chose me to come with him. He wants to show me his other life. To be part of it. I smile. 

I walk out of my room, Eleanor is sat on the sofa watching TV. Her arms are crossed, a frown on her face. 

"Hey, Eleanor. Do you want to help me get ready?" I ask with a soft tone. A kind of apology for snapping at her earlier. 

"Get ready for what?" She looks over at me.

"I've got a date tonight." I lie.

"Who with?" She shoots up, a look of panic replaces her frown. 

"Ashton, the guy I met at the party the other night." I lie again. 

"OMG! How exciting! Yes, definitely. How long have we got?" She's smiling now. Giddy. She's more gullible than I thought. 

"Two hours, just under."

I  hop in the shower and wash my body and my hair. Eleanor does my makeup which look incredible; subtle but enhancing my eyes and the shape of my lips. She really should be a make-up artist. I decide to put my hair loosely in a high bun and curl some longer pieces of hair that frame my face. 

I feel nervous. I eat a sandwich to try to calm my nerves a bit. It doesn't work. 

"Eleanor, what on earth am I going to wear?" I am seriously starting to panic. He'll be here at 7 and it's already half past 6!