Fire (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 28

I awoke the next morning, my cheek still pressed to the warm glass cover of my phone. I flicked my eyes to the out of place yellow clock that hung in my red themed room. I only kept it because it held incredible sentimental value, it being the very same clock my dad had hung on the day I was born. 7:35am. Great…

I sluggishly pulled my head off of the pillow and dragged my weary body out of the comforting confines of my bed. I got dressed as usual, pulling on my regular uniform and applying a little eye make up. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, the standard girl that I’d become accustomed to, her brown hair flowing to just below her breast, her eyes being her only redeeming feature, a quality she’d received from her mother, who she so dearly missed. I let out a long and heavy sigh as I grabbed my school bag and walked out of my room, trudging down the stairs.

I instantly regretted my decision to stay up until the early hours of the morning to talk to Harry, my tiredness becoming evident not just from the dark bags under my eyes, but the efficiency of my brain also as I stumbled multiple times down the stairs. I gave my cheeks a gentle slap to try and wake myself up a bit as I opened the living room door, which would surely reveal a barely awake father, sure to give me a decent bollocking about the conversation which I’m sure he heard between Harry and me last night.

“Morning spaz.” He said while taking another sip of the brown liquid in his mug. He never tore his glare from the newspaper that lay on the kitchen table in front of him. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, confused at his chirpy nature, and also the rather inappropriate insult.

“Dude.” I said, picking my coat up from the coat hook, which hung in the small airing cupboard under the stairs. I wrapped it around me and casually trudged over to the tall red fridge that stood just next to the archway of the over-sized (in my opinion) kitchen. I opened the door, scanning through the multiple shelves, searching for a quick snack.

“If you eat my pineapple, I’ll knock your block off.” He declared, although I couldn’t see his face, I sensed the serious look on his face. I showed my appreciation with an almost inaudible snigger. I picked out a bottled milkshake and unscrewed the top, closing the fridge door with a (skilful) butt jab.

“Are you getting dressed today?” I asked, raising my eyebrows as I took a sip from the little bottle. I was genuinely surprised at his instant good mood, although it wasn’t natural for him to be so chirpy in the mornings…or ever… He offered me a sarcastic grin, or what others might mistake for a form of sinister, evil clown smile…

“Yes, because I…am going on a date.” He said in the tone of a rowdy teenager, talking to his friends about how he’d picked up the hottest girl in school, or had sex with one of the supply teachers. I was happy for Dad, I really was. This explained his abnormally good mood, and put me at ease a little…I thought there was something seriously wrong for a second…

“Whoa…you got another woman to like you. You’re doing good old man…” I replied in a sarcastic tone, accompanying it with a slight tilt of my head, he simply sniggered at my tone, not bothering to start an argument.

“Go to school, weirdo.” He said, shaking his head in derision, his almost grey curls dropping down to his forehead. I noticed our relationship improving greatly since we moved back to London. I was so happy here, everything was going perfect…

***

I was glad that the day had almost come to an end, the tortuously tight schedule getting the better of me on most days. Last lesson on a Tuesday was always fun, PE with Beau, she was so comical in the way she did sport, her deceivingly athletic looking figure hiding the fact that she was positively atrocious at any form of physical activity, becoming out of breath within seconds of running. Today’s lesson was basketball, learning how to dribble, specifically. It was the sort of thing they taught at middle school. I had no idea why I had chosen to do PE, maybe because if I didn’t I’d get outrageously fat, the amount I eat vastly overtaking the amount of regulated calories.