The Choreographer

18: Birds

"She's just so gross I can't even stand to be in the same room as her." One of the super popular girls told her friends as I walked by the table. I was going to ignore it, and sit alone, as usual. But then I heard someone behind me.

"That was ugly." It was a girls voice I had never heard, and my cheeks got red, thinking she was talking about me.

"I know.." The super popular girl responded, her voice laced with mock sympathy.

"You must be confused. I wasn't talking about her." The unknown voice continued. At this I turned around.

"Who were you talking about?" I manage to ask. There was no way she was calling a popular girl ugly.

"Her." She nods her head toward the beautiful mean girl.

"I am not ugly." My tormenter says, defending herself.

"Your face might not be, but sweetie, your personality is." My jaw dropped. Who is this dark haired girl? Why is she defending me?

"You will pay for that." The popular girl tells her.

"Gotcha." She says. She takes my elbow and leads me over to a table with a dark hair boy with glasses is sitting. He's tall and skinny. She finally turns to me. "I'm Elle, and this is my boyfriend Max."

I wake up with a start from my memory like dream. I sit up in my bed and check the time. It's only 5:32. I don't have to wake up until seven. I fall back onto my bed, knowing I won't be able to fall back asleep. I get up, get dressed, grab my keys and decide to wake up Harry.

I walk quietly through the hallway, down the stairs and to my car. It unlocks with a click and I take the familiar route to Harry's.

The radio plays softly in the car as the sun rises. I pull into Harry's driveway. All of his lights are off. I let myself in through the front door and walk up the stairs; his bedroom door is wide open and I see his sleeping form on the bed. He looks so cute. I walk over and brush his hair out of his face. He stirs slightly. I poke his cheek. "Harry." I whisper call. "Wake up..." I coax. He doesn't do anything so I pull myself on to the bed and sit on his stomach. I see his eyes open. "Hi." I tell him.

"When did you get here?" He asks, his voice deep and scrachy from sleep. He's probably confused, because I told him that we probably shouldn't stay together every night, yet here I am. Such a hypocrite.

"Just now." I tell him.

"Why?" He asks, rubbing his eyes.

"I was awake." I offer. He smiles up at me.

"Well, well, well, Miss Independent couldn't sleep and needs comfort from her wonderful boyfriend, whom she told to stay at his own house last night." He teases.

"Fine, I'll leave." I start to move off the bed before Harry pulls me back.

"No, don't." He reassures me. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too." I confess. Sleepy Harry gently pulls me down next to him. He wraps his arms around me, my back is against his chest.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" He asks.

"I kept having dreams, but the kind that are so real you can't sleep through them."

"Were they scary?"

"No," I tell him. "They were more like memories."

He makes a noise, which i take to be one of understanding before he speaks again. "When do you have to leave?" He asks, his voice muffled in my hair.