Terrible Things (Harry Styles Love Story)

Chapter Three

September...

"Harry, I - uh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you. I was just... going to the bathroom," I lied.

He looked shocked and almost paralyzed. "Um, th-that's fine. Are you okay? You look like you're about to cry."

"I-I'm fine. Thanks," I said. Well he was being nicer than usual.

He shrugged then walked away, quickly leaving me alone. Okay, maybe he had a phase, and he's back to not talking or really caring again. Blinking, I realized that my tears were gone and that I was just overreacting. I didn't understand what was happening. I've never felt this vulnerable since forever. To the public eye, at least. So why is this year any different?

The bell rang, and I felt the need to puke. So one... worst first real day of school ever. Two... I won't stop crying. And Three... I'm late for math. Yay me. Stalking to math, I felt a darkness overcome me. I didn't know what it was, so I attempted to shrug it off. Passing some teachers in the hallway, they told me I was late. I didn't care. I was already so late, why should it matter to me? Eventually I did get to my class. And everyone stared as I walked in. The teacher wasn't in the room, so I was thankful.

I sat in the empty seat in the back. I looked around me to see the people in my math class. Hmm... I couldn't really find anyone. But then my eyes met a familar set. I smiled at Harry and waved. What the hell? Was he in like, all of my classes? He nodded towards me, but not exactly in a friendly way. It was more like, a forced way. As soon as he turned around, I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. The bell rang. I don't even know why I bothered coming to this class. I sat for literally two minutes.

However, I stood up quickly and tried to catch Harry before he could leave. "Hey!" I called out to him. "Harry, wait," catching up to him.

Harry turned around and sighed.

"Um, what class do you have next."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Music."

My eyes widened. "That's so cool. I'm going towards the music floor anyways. We could walk together."

Harry looked at me confused. "What's wrong with you? Do you like me or something? Cause you can't seem to leave me alone."

This shocked me. "W-what?" I asked as my cheeks began heating up. "No! I don't. You know, you could be a little nicer to me," I said as we began walking.

Harry's POV.

This girl. Who was she? I rolled my eyes at her stupid response as she continued talking to me about something that I couldn't quite understand. Something about me being nicer to her? I just met this girl, and she's already pissing me off. The way her lips moved and the way she gestured when she spoke pissed me off. The way she cared too much pissed me off. The way she smiled when she wanted to be nice pissed me off. The way her eyes squinted and her mouth curved up when she laughed or tried to make contact with me or when she was writing in that fucking notebook pissed me off. I've actually never felt this kind of pissed off before.

Seeing my music room, I tried my hardest to separate myself from her, but she would just follow. I don't know why, but she did. And it pissed me off even more. She pissed me off in a way that made my heart ache and made my face burn and my hands shake. She really pissed me off. So as swiftly as I could, once I reached the door, I slid inside the room as if she were never talking to me in the first place. I sighed as I took a seat. I took a seat next to a girl that looked stranglely familiar.

Oh. I remember. That's the girl from lunch - the one who kicked Diana's book out of her hands and then pushed her around. She looked at me then at her book then at me again. I watched as she bit down on her lip, deciding whether or not she should talk to the only tattooed boy in this class.

"Hi, I'm Amanda," she said, tapping me.

"I'm Harry," I said with a slight nod.

The bell rang and the teacher walked into the class. "Goodmorning, I'm Mr. Bryant. This is music theory. Take out your notebooks, and lets get to work.

I took out my book, but didn't write anything down. Instead, I just contemplated what I would say to Amanda if she decided to talk to me after school. My train of thought was interrupted, though, by a light hand. I turned.

"I don't get any of this," Amanda spoke.

"He just started," I said.

A smile tugged on the corner of her lips. "I know."

She waited a couple of minutes after that to speak again. "Listen, I'm uh, I'm having trouble with some of my classes would you want to come over after school, maybe?" she asked, leaning towards me. I couldn't help but notice her large bust as they basically popped out of her shirt.

"Sure," I said and then turned back to the teacher who was going on and on about the different genres of music and how they came to be classified. Boring.