how to: steal someone's boyfriend. [larry stylinson] ✔️

four | diamonds

After class, Louis made sure that he was the first person out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, which made Harry upset because he couldn't even say thank you before he left. He frowned and packed up his things before leaving the classroom, immediately bumping into Liam, who had the droopiest pairs of eyes Harry had ever seen.

"Harry!" exclaimed Liam, yawning directly after before speaking once again. "Sorry for leaving you all alone in the cafeteria, I had to take care of something. I hope you don't mind."

Of course I mind, I had to find my way to class on my own. "It's really no big deal, I managed. Where did you happen to go? Presumably, with Zayn right?"

Liam's cheeks burned and he coughed, responding with a tone that tried to sound like he didn't care at all. "Yeah, had to help him with something s'all. It was nothing big really."

Harry was about to speak more about this, but Liam cut him off with an obnoxiously excited voice while they walked down the hall with one another.

"Now you have chemistry. I mean it's not that bad of a class, but the teacher is kind of a psycho so just try to participate as much as you can. Okay?" Liam explains, doing this weird hand gesture thing as he spoke for emphasis. They glided past other students in lightning speed and Harry nodded with understanding, wondering how chemistry could get the least bit psychotic.

"Got it." says Harry as they both stand in front of yet another classroom door. Liam points toward an open door with one finger and uses his other hand to guide Harry through it so that he was practically dragged like a rag doll. Harry swallowed thickly and walked in on his own, taking a seat in the back of the room. He glanced towards the door and Liam waved while mouthing 'bye' and then he disappeared, just like he did earlier.

Harry looked up front and nearly had a seizure at what he saw. The teacher- or a hobo he couldn't really tell- had dark brown frizzy hair so that he could see the leftover gel in it, which drooped unnecessarily on her head. Her eyes were kind of gray, and there were bags underneath them that showed that she never slept peacefully a day in her life. She wore braces and her clothes were kind of torn apart at the sleeves as well as her jeans. Over her on the black board, in big swirly letters, was MISS JACKSON.

Harry held back his giggle because Panic! at the Disco.

Miss.Jackson put her hands on her hips and skimmed the classroom with her eyes squinted before her eyes landed on Harry, which made him go stiff in his seat from being uncomfortable. Harry bit the inside of his cheek and tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for her to say something.

"You! What's your name?" yelled Miss.Jackson. The whole class turns to Harry with interest and all he wanted to do was to melt into a puddle of nothing. Why was this teacher so keen on calling him out? Why did half of his teachers already dislike him?

"Uh, Harry." He hears a few people begin to whisper but chose to ignore it while keeping eye contact with the teacher. She shakes her head and turns around so that her back faces the class, giving them the ability to whisper louder.

"You're giving off bad vibes, your aura is... gloomy." She mutters, but everyone hears. Then she takes a seat on her desk and pulls her knees up to her chest with slow movements, her head in between her legs. Harry stared and sank farther into his seat, unsure of what to think about America at this point in time. He raised his eyebrow with confusion and a girl next to him tapped his shoulder.

"I like bad boys." she says. Harry smiles weakly and shrugs her off, but she doesn't look the least bit hurt, which was a little bit weird to him. "I was kidding, I'm a lesbian damnit. Did my approach come off desperate?"

Harry turned back to the girl and she's grinning with amusement and tapping her fingers on the desk. She had blonde hair and the same streaks he had seen earlier, her blue eyes staring curiously as he was struck with realization.

"Weren't you the girl that didn't say thank you when I held the door open?" asked Harry, suddenly feeling defensive.

"Yes I am, my name's Perrie. Sorry, I was in an extreme rush to get to class." she says with a shrug of her shoulders, flipping away her hair with the back of her hand.

"It's okay." said Harry hesitantly. "Are you really a lesbian or-"

Perrie laughed while looking forward and Harry tilted his head, confused. What the hell was so funny?

"I have a girlfriend so I'm positive I'm a lesbian. Why, are you homophobic?" Harry sputtered out a no almost immediately, but she studied his face to see if he was lying. Perrie played with the end of her shirt sleeve with a blank expression, waiting for him to confirm yet again, so Harry decided to give her a full answer.

"I'm gay, like really gay." Perrie looks like she's on the verge of laughing.

"And I'm lesbian, like really lesbian." she mocks. Her cheeks turn a bright red color and Harry looked on the other side of the room and then to the front of the sleeping teacher. Everyone was talking, and Harry was just trying to find out if Miss.Jackson is dead or not. "This always happens, she'll be awake when class is over."

Now I get what Liam meant when he said that the teacher was a psycho, he thought with a shake of his head.

"Perrie c'mere and check this out!" a boy shouts from the other side of the room. There were about 5 students huddled over an iPad in the front of the room, looking extremely focused on what was going on in the screen. Perrie holds up one finger at Harry and walks towards them so that she could see what they were talking about, leaving Harry on his own.

Harry looked around the classroom again until his eyes landed on someone sitting in the far back of the room, with their back hunched over. They seemed to be drawing something because their hand was moving across the paper slowly so that everything could be perfectly structured, which made Harry interested. Harry found myself in front of their desk and clearing his throat so that they could look up.

The boy stopped drawing and he let go of the pencil so that it fell on top of the notebook with a quiet plop, and Harry wasn't sure if he was suppose to be nervous or not.

"Hi, I'm Harry." greeted Harry with a smile. The person didn't say anything before he looked up at Harry with frustrated eyes. Harry held his breath and mentally punched himself because it was Zayn that he had tried to speak to, which was a dumb idea. He took a step back and swallowed his pride.

"Why are you talking to me?" Could he at least be a bit nicer? I am the only person that decided to come over to talk to him.

"I just thought-"

"Well, you thought wrong. Leave me alone." and then he picked his pencil back up to start drawing again, making Harry flinch from the amount of disrespect. Harry closed his eyes and used all of his will power not to yell at him before he nodded and walked back to his desk without another word. It didn't even matter.