bare [h.s.]

A Fresh New Face

"Staring is rude, you know?"
Mop-head says to me,
as I fidget with my backpack.

"Waiting after class for a girl
is weird, you know?"
He laughs a bit, shakes his head slightly, and lets all the lice hibernating in that hair
fall to the tiled floor.

"You have a point," he smiles.
I know I do, and that's a hint
for you to scram punk!

"And by the way, I wasn't staring at you," I clarify, sliding both
straps on to my shoulders.

"Keep telling yourself that," he says, giving me a small wink.

Annoyed, I huff and turn to him.
"I don't have to. Your fat head was blocking my view."
I push past him to walk out,
but he follows me like a lost puppy.
"Did you lose your mommy
or something?" I snap,
as he trails behind,
all the way down the hall.

"You're not the only one with classes this way, princess."
I could easily tell him off,
but that wouldn't
be very "lady-like",
so I swallow my words
before they errupt.

"Harry," he says,
catching up to me.

"Potter?" I finish his thought,
but he smiles and corrects me.

"Styles. Harry Styles."

"I didn't ask," I shrug,
thankful that my English class
is around the corner.

"I don't care," he continues.

"That makes two of us."