Yours, Clara- A Harry Styles Love Story

Chapter Five

A little brass bell dinged as I pushed open the door to "Miss Grace's School of Dance". The inside was painted a light pink and the walls were covered with posters of dancers and old pointe shoes suspended on hooks. The air smelled slightly of baby powder and sweat and there was a slender brunette that looked about my age at a desk behind a computer who smiled at me as I walked in. I approached her and introduced myself.

"Hello-erm...Hi" for a moment I forgot to add in my new accent.

She looked from the computer screen and smiled warmly at me. "Hey! Can I help you with somethin'?" her southern accent was thick, not unlike everyone else in this town I've met.

"Yes, my name is Clara Belle and I was told to ask about a job here..." I looked through an open door to my left and saw a middle aged woman demonstrating a proper tondu in front of a class of about fifteen girls.

"Yes, we are looking for a new teacher! Do you have any experience in dancing?" she asked me and took out a blank sheet of paper and a flower pen.

"Uhm, yes, I just moved from...Texas...and I took classes all through school there," I told her and she jotted down a few things on the paper.

I had been a dancer in London. I begun taking classes when I was just three years old! I was actually planning on becoming a professional ballerina for a famous London company, but changed plans as soon as things got...well, complicated.

"Great, you'll start tomorrow," she said.

I blinked. "Really?"

She shrugged and put away the paper. "Yeah, sure. We're short staffed here and you seem like the type. Oh, and my name's Annalise, by the way."

"Ok then. See you tomorrow then, Annalise," I waved to her and tugged the door open with the ding of the bell.

"Bye, Clara! Looking forward to working with you!" She called out to me as the door swung shut.

Well, that was easy.

***MEANWHILE, ON A PLAN TO LONDON***

*Harry Styles' POV*

I groaned and gripped the armrests of my first-class recliner as the plane began to take off. Liftoff got me, every time.

"Hey Haz, check out the SkyMall, they've got heated toilet seats!" Louis smacked a grape lollipop between his lips and flipped excitedly through the catalog.

Alright, who gave him sugar?

I sighed and lifted the flap in front of me that held my copy of SkyMall, the safety briefing, etc, but instead of a glossy containing over-priced things I didn't need, I pulled out a worn leather book.

"What's that?" Louis asked. He always managed to say whatever I was thinking.

"I dunno..." I said slowly and gingerly turned to cover.

"Looks like a diary," Lou observed with another slurp of his lollipop.

I didn't answer. On the very first page, there was something written in ink in spikey cursive:

This diary is the sole property of Clara Belle. If this is not Clara Belle, I kindly request you fuck off. Thank you. xx

I smile at the writer's bitchiness and ignore the introduction, turning the page to reveal more of the spindly writing:

Dear Diary,

I think I'm in love <3

No, seriously. Eric picked me up for our date in a LIMO. Of course, I"m perfectly used to limos, but that's quite the gesture for a first date.