Harry Styles was a name that every single person in the school knew. He had that bad boy, rebellious reputation that girls seemed to swoon over, plus he was on the football team which had given him popularity. He was never one to get in too deep with anyone though, which made him a little more mysterious and dark than the other guys on the team. His whole self was a façade; nobody knew the real Harry and he hoped to keep it that way. It was easier.
Today Harry had football practice, and he had considered skipping it, but decided against the thought. Considering he had missed the last two practices, he didn’t think his coach would be too into that. Instead, he turned up late and gave his coach attitude which resulted in Harry having to do fifty push ups. Easy. He thought to himself cockily as he did it without a single moan. He then finally got to his football training, but became distracted when a group of girls ran out onto the field to do laps.
One particular girl caught his eye, and not in a good way. He hadn’t seen her around before so she must have been new; either that or he hadn’t been paying attention. But all he could do was laugh at how awkward she looked as she jogged around the oval. She was tripping over her own feet; he couldn’t understand how anyone could look so awkward while running. He heard her teacher call her name, he thought he heard it was Taylor, and he watched her run back.
His focus was soon on his very hot, head cheerleader girlfriend. Her name was Lara and she ruled the school. No one ever crossed her, because if they did she was capable of ruining them. She came running towards him and the two ended up in a full on make out session in the middle of practice. The coach had to blow his whistle and almost pry Lara off of Harry. He just smirked as she bit her lip, before running the opposite way.
Taylor had witnessed the exchange between the two and felt like throwing up a little. She wasn’t exactly a fan of PDA and that took the cake. It was full on and she thought she could see his tongue enter hers from where she was standing at least 20 meters away. Not exactly something she wanted to witness on her first day. Taylor had moved here to Cheshire in England from her small town in Pennsylvania in the US. She was eighteen years old and it was her final year of high school, and her parents had insisted they all moved when her father got a job offer. They had never struggled with money, but it wasn’t something she flaunted. She just wasn’t too sure why they had to move when they were perfectly stable back in America.
She was happy to be called back off the field by her teacher; she disliked sport with a passion and would rather be reading or baking than running around, pretending like she knew what she was doing. But not long after, she was sent back onto the field with the other girls, trying to keep up but failing. She noticed the girl who had been making out with the guy on the football team getting awfully close to her. It wasn’t until Taylor was sprawled on the ground that she realized the girl had tripped her, and was now ahead of her, laughing with her friends.
Taylor just sat on the ground, sighing as she basked in her own self-pity. This was going to be a long year.
