Bradford High

Chapter 5

I twirled the flower lazily at the breakfast table, studying it in the candle light. "Mom?"

"Hmm?" She answered, looking back from cooking eggs. Over the last few days, living here in Rockland County wasn't so bad. School's gotten better in the slightest ways. I'm still known as a slut but I just ignore the comments I hear in the halls. Styles, I laughed out loud at the thought of him, he was actually trying to be nice to me even if he was bipolar at times. My heart swooned for the sight of seeing Zayn. . . and Styles.

For days my head has been pounding with the question I've been dying to ask Zayn. Was he the one to give me this flower? If not then who? I haven't seen him all week and I didn't have his number so my curiosity to where he's been has been killing me softly.

"Dani?" My mom called for my attention again.

Out my daze I said, "Oh, I was just wondering," I pointed the flower in her direction, "You've seen this type of flower before?"

She studied it, "Umm, no, why'd you ask?"

I shrugged off my disappointment at her not knowing the name of the flower, "Found it a couple days ago on the porch. I think a rock was thrown at my window and I woke and walked downstairs to see who it was."

"Oh you have a secret admirer huh? Aw this is so cute, what's his name?" My mom gushed.

I felt my cheeks go warm, "Umm. . ." Before I could answer the doorbell ranged. I jumped, a smile spreading across my face, "Gotta go! Love you!" I ran to the door, checking my hair and eyeliner before proceeding to open it.

"Honey!" My dark skinned father came around the corner, kissing me on the cheek goodbye, "Be careful with him."

He left me at the door wondering what he was talking about. Shaking it off I opened the door with a smile that faltered when seeing someone other than Zayn.

"Styles?"

He was dressed in blue jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt. I shivered in my sweater, long pants and knee high boots. He didn't smile when he saw me; he only turned walking to his car, opening the car door to the passenger's side.

"Get in Premo." I rolled my eyes; he still never called me by my first name. No matter how mad I would get at him about it, or ignore him for it, he would always seem to call me Premo and I would suck it up an answer.

Shaking my head, "Zayn takes me to school Styles. What the hell are you doing here for?"

He pursed his lips, I could tell now that I piss him off easily. The relationship between me and Styles was a complex one, so far we haven't went to war with each other in days; it was nice, besides the fact that he could make me go insane with the mere mention of his name in a conversation.

Through gritted teeth he spats, "Would you get in the damn car, Zayn isn't here!"

Alarmed I lock up the house and step after him, my heart hammering with concern and already having a feeling that bitch Azalea has something to do with it. I couldn't help but get jealous every time I see them together in Geography together laughing. Ms. Banks, who I later realized was Azalea's mother, purposely paired the two together for an assignment. She paired me with Niall who I found as a funny Irish lad, "What do you mean Zayn isn't here? Styles answer me when I talk to you!"

He glared at me, his shades hanging in his pocket, "I'm sorry but I didn't know my mother was my age and bitchy."

I breathed in, counting to ten, not trying to start another argument with Styles, "Styles just tell me."

He closed the door behind me and stalked toward his side. I looked around his car, never being in it before. I sat on a soft leather seat; it was black of course, a bitter smile crept to my face at how everything around Styles seemed to be so dark. The car door opened seating an irritated Styles. Instead of answering my demand he just turned off my road. The car ride was quiet, until I began to notice the time, "Oh dear we're late. Shit."

"No we aren't," Styles laugh was soft, a small smirk emerging on his face.

Puzzled I asked, "We aren't? Styles its nine!"

When I saw the school I texted Jessi to tell her to cover for me because I was going to be late, but I never sent it because Styles drove past it. Realization dawned on me soon, "Oh." He was never planning to take me to school, I thought, sinking into my seat at how stupid I was to get in the car with him.

He looked at me, barely containing his laughter until he was laughing. I was taken aback from his laughter, dimples I've never seen before shied their way to the surface. His cheekbones raised and I saw for the first time, this wasn't a forced laugh. It was a laugh that I actually made Styles do without trying.

For some reason the feeling of knowing I made him laugh washed over me in pure bliss, "Did I say something funny?"

He turned his head away from me shaking his head, still chuckling at a joke I somehow made, Styles twisted the car into the opposite direction of the school. When he swiveled his head where I can see his face, to my disappointment it was back stone hard, letting no emotions come out.

"Styles?"

"Yes."

"Oh my God. No." I groaned, turning away from him. It eats me alive whenever Styles is in one of his bipolar moods, no more than a minute ago I see a cheeky smiling boy and now I get the dark hard faced one; I could scream in rage right about now.

"What?"

"Why do you do this? What happened? You were just laughing and now I get this again," I jerked a hand at his direction disgusted.

"What's wrong with getting this?" His flirty tone I three days before was back. I didn't even have to look at him to know he was giving me a seductive sneer.

"Stop it." I turned on him with mix emotions I bottled up inside me about him ever since I stepped out of Bradford on the first day making their way into the front line of my thoughts. "Stop playing mind games with me Styles. I'm sick of tired of feeling like the crazy one!"

He looked at me crossed, "I'm not playing mind games with you Dani."

Hot angry tears rolled down my cheeks, my emotions not wanting to hide any longer, "That's a bunch of bullshit and you know it! Why do you do this to me?! On the first day you call me a whore, and then you claim to 'apologize'. You then try to be nice to me and flirt with me! Then you're just an asshole in general! Has your mother told you it isn't nice to play with a girl's heart?!"

"I'm sorry if you catch feelings so quickly but don't dare say I'm playing mind games with you! I already told you I'm sorry, what more do you want from me? I've been trying to make it up with being nice and a few jokes but you're holding on to that one incident and I'm just the bad guy to you know huh? Huh Dani? That's all I am to you!" Styles voice boomed in the car, the louder he got, the deeper his voice went making his accent more distinct, "I'm sooooo sorry Dani! I'm sorry I was an asshole for a day! I'm sorry that I was trying to be friends with you after it! Sorry that I said fucking sorry for god knows how many times! I'm. Sorry. Daniella. Sorry that I make you go 'crazy' but you sure as hell don't show it! You wanna know what's fucking crazy?! The fact that I'm fa-"

I stifled my sobs, looking out the window feeling awful. I guessed Styles finally recognized what his words were doing and stopped. Looking at his reflection in the mirror one of his arms extended out to me, hovering over my back debating to whether hit me or comfort me.

I slouched more in the seat and moved as far away from Styles as I could get in the sedan. I burned in embarrassment for myself; that I let my emotions get the best of me. This could've been a good day even if I didn't spend it with Zayn. I had Styles laughing, laughing. My vision blurred some more as I wished I never said anything, if I just could've played along none of this would've happened. Styles was silent, a loss for words clearly on his face. I believed he muttered something like 'I always pick the insane ones' after a moment.

"I'm not insane!" I snapped. Bradford High became a speck in the review mirror, I sat there insulting myself for even bringing it up, for showing that he makes me go crazy. I wiped my eyes and fixed my dry mascara, trying to look presentable for wherever we're going.

When I knew for sure if the silence continued any longer I could shoot myself I stopped short from speaking. Something nagged at my brain; it was as if a red flag shot up in my mind. In almost inaudible tones I said, "Styles...did you just call me Dani?"