Lost and Found || Punk H.S

Chapter 3

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Harry and I situated ourselves on his bed so we were sitting facing each other. I mentally prepared myself. I didn't really care anymore what this boy knew about me. It wasn't like I was planning on being here that long anyway right? "What's your full name," he asked. "Andrea Rose," I said blushing. It was such a stupid last name, too sophisticated.

I looked up to see Harry's jaw dropped. "What?" He composed himself and smiled. Oh my gosh he has dimples! Could this boy get any cuter? Snap out of it Andrea, don't get attached. "It's just r-really pretty," he stuttered again. "Thanks," I said with a genuine smile.

"What's your full name," I asked. "Harry Styles," he said face-palming. I took his hand from his face and saw his cheeks heat up even more. "I think it's adorable," I smiled. "Do I look adorable to you," he stuck out his arms and puffed out his cheeks to show off the piercing under his lip.

Dear God yes you're adorable damn. I only shrugged letting more heat bubble into my cheeks. "Umm what's your favorite color," he asked. "Red," I whispered. He laughed. "Same here."

"Okay Andrea," his tone turned serious and almost... sad? I looked up into sad green eyes. "I have to ask you something serious." I nodded for him to continue. He reached for my left sleeve and pulled it up. "Why," his voice broke.

I stayed silent and let one tear fall down. He quickly wiped it off with his thumb. A smile broke across my face, I couldn't believe I was actually going to tell someone. No one in the world knew. Could I trust him? What if he confronted Dylan? What if he got hurt? My smile faded quickly.

"You'll get hurt," I whispered so quietly that I didn't think he heard me. "Nobody can hurt me Andrea." I took a shaky breath. "You have to swear that you won't ever tell anyone. He grabbed my hands and rubbed circles into them with his thumb. The simple gesture comforted me to no end.

Suddenly my phone rang. My phone never rang. What's going on? It was a text from an unknown number.

Get home now Andrea, it's your father.

Crap. I'm screwed. "Harry I have to go," I said. His face turned to pure sadness. "Why," he asked. "My dad needs me home, I'll talk to you later," I lied. "At least let me drive you home," he pleaded. "I'll just get in more trouble I'm sorry," I said. I really did want him to take me home. It was getting late and I knew it was dangerous out there now.

I got up off the bed and grabbed all of my stuff. "Wait a sec, can I see your phone," he asked. "Sure," I handed it to him. After typing in a few things he handed it to me. "Please text me and tell me you're okay," he asked.

"Okay," I lied again. I hugged him tightly and he returned it. "Thank you," I whispered. He kissed my forehead and turned away. Why was he doing this?

*******

The walk home was long and torturous. Every step I got closer to hell. As soon as I opened the door the smell of alcohol hit me like a ton of bricks. "Dad," I called out. I didn't want to do this but it's better to get it over with sooner. I found him in the living room with beer cans everywhere. It was surprising how this man hadn't died from all of the alcohol in his system yet.

"Why weren't you at school today," he growled. "I-" I didn't get to finish before a fist collided with my eye. I stumbled back away from him. "You're a little screw up, I wish everyday that it was you that died instead of your friend in that stupid car."

How dare he bring that up. He knew how touchy that subject was. And he knew damn well how hurt I was about that. "Shut up," I recoiled as soon as the words left my mouth. He swung his fist again, knocking me onto the floor and continued kicking me in the stomach. Once he was done he passed out on the couch and I crawled my way back up to my room.