Bradford High

Chapter 3

I cried in the car out of frustration, knowing I couldn't go home unless I wanted to face my mother yet again in less than 24 hours. I hated this school already, planning ways I could skip or get transferred to another school. Back in Sedona I was never like this, I wasn't weak, I didn't fall for guys so easily, and I certainly always had something to say back but today I was stumped. I cried several times in the last 12 hours, having my heart stutter over Zayn, and stumped speechless by Styles in class. "This isn't me," I told myself. I cleared my head over time, the pain in my chest turned into bitter hate for the school; Styles, the girl with piercing red lip stick, Ms. Maudie Banks, anything and everything that had to do with Bradford High.

Wiping away the runny mascara lines down my cheeks I checked my rear view mirror, nearly jumping out the roof at what I saw. Styles, tall lean body walking steadily toward my car, I locked my car doors and turned on the radio, drowning out any outside sound.

Styles rapped on the car window. I glanced up at him, he was asking for me to open the door. I rolled my eyes telling him to go away. He tapped harder on the glass, his knocks louder than the music. Annoyed I turned down the music and turned to face Styles saying more loudly, "Go away Styles."

"No, get out of the car."

"Never."

"Never?" Styles smirked, leaning against the hood of my car, "Well then, school was boring anyways; I have all day."

I eyed the strange boy. What is he trying to do, play mind games? First he wants to cuss me out for being nice, humiliated me in front of the whole class, wave to me in the hall and now come search of me in the parking lot like a lost puppy trying to find its owner? I narrowed my eyes at his lazy grin; he stared through the glass at me.

I rest my arms against the steering wheel. I cracked the window open so he could hear me ask, "What do you want Styles?"

"What I want?" He stood up and looked down, "To say sorry."

"Lies," I laughed sarcastically, "You're so full of shit it's hilarious."

He looked up offended, "I'm serious and you don't know me you can't say I'm full of shit."

My mouth dropped out of pure shock, "Did you just. . . No. No. Oh. No." I opened the car door and slammed it behind me walking straight up to Styles. Grabbing him by the collar I dragged him to see eye to eye with me.

"Yes, you're so full of shit and a hypocrite at that! I can't call you shit but you sat there in Lit- and didn't even sit there for more than five minutes at that!- cuss me out and call me a 'whore' in front of the class for such things I haven't even imagine," I got closer to him, smelling his peppermint breath wash over me, faltering I stuttered. God he was beautiful, "A-and you DARE be a hypocrite?! I'm not a whore and yet you have probably the whole school believing that! And then you talk about my MOTHER!" I huffed and turned around not wanting him to see me cry again. God he makes me feel so emotional. Batting my eyelashes so no tears come out, "And you, expect me, to accept a sorry? A sorry? That's a word with no meaning to me Styles. Now get the hell away from me."

He paused, try to find some excuse to make up for his behavior but I was done. I haven't got a clue who Styles is nor what his full name is and I hate him. This hate was like no other I've ever felt before. It made me sick to the core, but at the same time, there was an emotion I couldn't explain nor did I want to bring into the light. "You're right."

Leaving myself wide open I gasped, "What?"

"You're. Right. Premo and this is the first and last time I would admit when I'm wrong. Now, come with me." Stylesw3j said.