Show Me (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter Three - Stand Up

From the moment I met you, everything changed.

I knew that I had to get you, whatever the pain.

I had to take you and make you mine.

- "Stand Up", One Direction

....

The next morning was a cloudy overcast, some brave peeks of sun shining through the overall gray. I strode to the front of the school, Regina at my side. She found me in the parking lot, immediately running over to me.

"So you'll never guess what I finally did last night," she said giddily.

"What'd you do?" I asked, skirting around a clump of freshman girls watching a rerun of Glee on a smartphone.

"I grew a pair and added Louis Tomlinson on Facebook!" she bursted out, grabbing my arm. "I sent him a friend request and he accepted! I went through all of his pictures." She pulled her iPhone out of her pocket, stabbing at the screen until she got to Louis' Facebook page.

"Check this one out of him when he was in Hamlet. Just look at the fit of those tights. Jesus."

"Uh huh," I said under my breath, glancing at the phone's screen then sinking onto one of the outside benches. She plopped beside me, continuing to jabber away about Louis' profile.

"Aw, here's one of him and Harry!"

The sound of his name snapped me back to reality. "Really?" Harry Styles, to me, wasn't one to take pictures. She handed me her phone with a whisper of a smirk on her lips, and on the screen was a cheesing picture of Louis and Harry in a hotel room. They were both sitting, Harry leaning into the camera's shot. The caption said: "Haz and I in a hotel in Miami. (: psyched for the music festival tomorrow!"

"They go on road trips together?" I finally asked after a minute of staring at Harry's perfect, sleepy half-smile. I stared back as he gazed at me through the phone with those beautiful eyes.

Regina was watching me carefully, before finally spreading on another coat of pink gloss. "Yeah. There's tons of pictures Louis takes of them. A lot are without Harry noticing."

She tapped on a photo album and handed the phone back to me.

I immediately began swiping, going through Louis' seemingly endless amount of pictures - Harry in front of the Lincoln Memorial, Harry wearing an I Love New York shirt, Louis and Harry sitting in a retro booth, both holding burgers bigger than their heads.

Suddenly, when I started to zoom in on a shirtless Harry on the beach, the angry, ear-splitting growling of a motorcycle made me jump almost a foot in the air. Thankfully, Regina saved her phone before it clattered to the pavement.

The rider barreled into the school parking lot, screeching into an empty space. Conversations of the kids lounging in front ceased immediately, their heads turning to the sleek black motorcycle. A few knowing smiles appeared on their faces.

The rider stepped off the bike, and swiftly yanked off the helmet. Tell-tale tangles of matted, curly brown hair tumbled out, and he ran his free hand through them, mussing them up even more. His skinny jeans clung perfectly to his hips, and I noticed he was wearing the same leather jacket and old pair of converses I saw yesterday.

Without delay, nearly every female started whispering and smoothing their hair as Harry casually approached the flagpole. It was hard to tear your eyes away from the smooth movements of his walk, the wind blowing through his curls. I couldn't tell if he was aware of the sudden hush when he appeared, or if he simply ignored it.