Trouble (Harry Styles story)

Help Doesn't Come Free

Ashlynn's POV:

So as it turned out, there was some kind of explosive thrown into the school. I had no frigging clue how that had happened, but I was just almost glad to see that Harry was okay. We were sitting in front of the school with Louis and my friends, in a row on the curb. No one I knew had been hurt by the blast, and the people that were hurt weren't dead. Just severely burned.... or blind.

    This whole thing seemed so bad, especially with what had happened in the restaurant. I suspected something was up with Trevor. 

    Slowly, my friends began to trickle away, leaving with their families. Pretty soon, it was just me and Harry. I turned to look at him, thinking back on Trevor's word in the coffee shop. Fighting over me...

"So, Harry." I said, nervously. I didn't know if I wanted to bring it up, it might make things a little awkward, and I didn't want it to be like that. Especially not now, since I needed his help to figure out what was going on. I watched as Harry turned his attention from his white, rather scuffed up more-grey-than-white converse. His green eyes met mine, making my mouth go dry. I didn't know how to bring it up, so I decided to say it bluntly. "Trevor said something interesting while we were in a coffee shop, just before this happe-"

"You were with him?" Harry interrupted, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yeah. I just wanted to skip class." I said, making Harry snort.

"Okay. " He said, a small smirk on his face. "Go on."

"He mention something about the both of you." I said, after a sigh. I paused for a moment, not being able to form the words. "He said that... The reason you guys have been fighting more lately is because... you've been fighting over me?" I said it more as a question, because I didn't know if it was true. With the lies Trevor has told me before, I didn't want to run head-first into believing him, only to run into a cement wall head first. 

"Huh?" Harry said, looking at me, a surprised look on his face. He paused for a moment, before laughing a little. With a grin on his face, he spoke looking at me almost a little to easy about dismissing it. "Nah, we've got other stuff. More serious then a girl." He rolled his eyes. 

    Before I got the chance to say anything else, my mum pulled up right in front of us. 

"You getting picked up?" I asked, glancing at Harry as I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder. 

"No... My mum probably doesn't even know this happened." He sighed, standing up and doing the same. "I'll just walk."

"We can give you a ride. Come on." I said, walking towards the car. Harry stood there awkwardly for a moment, before shuffling after me. We both slid into the back seat, tossing our bags on the floor. "Hey mum!"

"You seem cheerful for someone who could have been blown up!" My mum said, a worried look on her face. I rolled my eyes, smiling.

"I wasn't even there." I said, without thinking. I froze, looking over at Harry, trying to avoid the icy look my mum was giving me.

"What?" She hissed, glaring at me. If there was anything my mum hated more then missing The Real Housewives of Atlanta, it was me missing or skipping school. 

"What she means is that she was having PE outside of the school." Harry said, swooping in and saving my butt again. I smiled, nodding at my mum as she looked to me for conformation. Without another question my mum turned towards the road, driving away from the still-smoking school.

"Thanks." I whispered, looking at Harry.

"My help doesn't come free." He said, even quieter then I had spoken. I reached out, touching my hand. He winked and flashed a grin, then he pulled his hand back , looking out the window like nothing had happened.

    That left me with a jittery feeling in my stomach for the next couple of hours. I lied in bed, and instead of thinking about how if I had gone to art class, I might had died... Instead of thinking about Trevor and what the hell was happening with him, I thought about the time when Harry and I kissed. How nothing had come from that. How nothing had happened again. 

    How I was going to make something happen.