Bump (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 13 - A Nice Day

Hazel's POV

     A lot of things changed ever since the boys left for America during the past two months. Not for worse, but I just wasn’t used to life without them.

     March passes by like a breeze; school became surprisingly easy, though in terms of the academics and not the people in it. Almost every day, people ask me crap about the boys, well mostly about my oh-so-precious boyfriend. The thing that pisses me off is that I didn’t even know those people. Their faces were only one of the hundreds of students I see every day at school.

     Luckily I have my undeniably sassy best friends by my side. Their above-average reputation had its perks, though I didn’t want to use it for these kinds of reasons. They ‘protected’ me from the tortures of being asked questions about my personal life. They respected my privacy as well, so they, even if they were lunatic fans of One Direction, they didn’t bombard me with questions. They only asked the usual.

     “How are you two? Doing great I suppose?” Crista asks.

     “Duh of course they are. You are aren’t you?” Aria adds.

     “Is he taking care of you?” Kaila demands.

     To which I answer ‘yes’ to all of them. The guys though, tell me that they’ll always be there to ‘handle unwanted situations’. I look at them incredulously and tell them to not worry about anything.

     Seriously, they don’t have to worry. I can take care of myself.

     Spring break began on early April and I do everything to improve myself in the art of baking. I am definitely good at cooking, but I wasn’t exactly the best at baking. That’s where I often get my B, and that evil little B is the only thing that’s keeping me from achieving academic proficiency. But what do I often associate with baking?

     Harry Styles. Yeah. Every single time I take out ingredients or set up the necessary tools for a certain recipe, well, he freaking pops into my head and I miss him terribly. He sends me texts almost every day, telling me the things he and his mates have done so far. He also sends me pictures of either them or just him in the backstage or in some place in America. He calls me once a week, which I find extremely comforting. It seems such a work. If I were him, I highly doubt I’ll be able to keep it up. I don’t mind the deed, I find it flattering actually. He’s the best boyfriend any girl could ask for, and honestly, he’s one in a million. Like for real. But the thing is, he really doesn’t need to do these things for me.

     But maybe that’s what love does to us; it motivates us to keep the fire going, and that’s what he’s doing to me―to us.

     It’s weird but, every night I reread the messages he sent me. They’re like inaudible and toneless lullabies that help me sleep peacefully.

     “When are they coming back dear?” dad asks me as he a huge slice of pancake.

     “Around May,” I mumble as I chew my sausage. I take another one and my mom narrows her eyes at me.

     “Stop staying up so late Hazel. Look at you, having your fourth piece of sausage,” she says, shaking her head.

     “I need to redeem my grades mom, come on.”

     “But you just started spring break!” she laughs.

     “Break or no break, nothing’s gonna stop me from cooking or baking.”

     She shakes her head again and takes a bite of her pancake.