Olivia (h.s)

three

O.

"Give me every detail," I look at Lottie, her hand holding Harry's jacket from last night. I meant to hide it, but my mind was too clouded by the fact that Harry Styles walked me home. And Harry Styles wants to see me again.

He is realistically the most humble person at this school, as well as the most known. Harry is one of the best on the football team and he is very oriented with school and football. He rarely goes out, barely talks to people, and it's honestly a mystery as to why.

But shit, is he hot.

"It's not what you think," I sigh, and she puts her finger up at me.

"Bullshit. Who is he and why is his jacket here? And if you say it was James Harris, I'm slapping you hard," she almost scolds, and I take the jacket from her hands.

"I would never even think to talk to James. He's too loud and likes women way too much," I explain, trying to curve her questions as much as I can. She does not need to know.

"Good. But back to what matters. What football guy did you score with?" she grins a devilish grin, my body falling onto my bed.

"I didn't get with anyone. He just walked me home and gave me his jacket," I say, leaving it at that. I don't know what else I can say, besides his name. I don't want to freak her out because it's freaking me out too.

My drunkenness may have made myself unwillingly present into the world of Harry Styles. I can't say his name without saying both his first and last name because he's so...indescribable. He's just Harry Styles. Nothing else needs to be said.

"Okay, giving a girl a jacket is the first sign of love. Your point? Tell me who he is," she nags, starting to get antsy.

"If I tell you, you have to promise to keep your mouth shut," I state, and she makes a zipping motion on her mouth with her fingers.

I sigh, sitting up and wrapping my arms around a pillow. "Harry Styles," I whisper, and I quickly cover my ears when Lottie damn-near screams.

"You got with Harry Styles!" she scream whispers, grabbing my arms and shoving me playfully.

"You know what this means, don't you?" she says, her smile so big it could probably break the skin off her jaw it's so tight.

"You are going to be all the school is talking about. You and Harry; Jesus Christ, I'm jealous!" she squeals, making me laugh.

"Lottie, he literally walked me home. That's it," I tell her, her happiness insane for such a small thing.

"He cares, O! He cares about you because he walked you home when you could have passed out at the party. He gave you his coat," and then she gasps, looking me in the eyes.

"Did you get his number?" she asks, getting serious.

All I do is shake my head. "No!" she dramatically sighs, falling onto my bed.

"I told you. It was nothing," I laugh, finding her misery at my loss entertaining. I'm not upset with the fact that I didn't get his number. There are enough ways to find each other. After all, we're going to the same school.

"God he's so hot," she says, almost in disbelief. "He hasn't dated in forever. Barely talks to girls. But he gave you his jacket." She sits up and grabs my shoulders, looking me in the eye. "This is the first sign of love."

I laugh and shove her off me, getting up and grabbing my stuff. "We have to get to practice. You can live your dream up later," I smile, grabbing my bag. We get ready and walk towards the gym, getting into the locker room.

"I felt his arm! He was there last night and I've never been so attracted to someone in my life," my teammate squeals, and I roll my eyes. Harry Styles is what everyone is talking about because he made a damn-near miraculous appearance at the party yesterday.

I get ready and pull my spandex and kneepads on, following it with socks and sneakers. We get ready and go to the court to get warmed up.

"Ladies, why is everyone geeking out about yesterday?" coach asks, my eyes diverting to coach.

"It was just a fun party. We all hung out together," Britt says, and I just watch as everyone talks instead of me. I just go back to practicing and we start scrimmaging. I serve and start playing, moving into my position.

Practice is fun and I love playing, making everything fun to me. It's hard work, but I don't mind. As long as I love what I'm doing, I don't mind the effort I have to put in.

We start to pack up our stuff, taking nets down and putting the balls in the basket. When I look up, I see Harry leaning against the door of the gym. My heart nearly drops to the floor and he smiles at me, turning and walking out of the gym.

Catching me out of my daze is Lottie, her hands setting on her hips. She just smiles, and I just walk away.

"You're shitting me. Did you not just catch him checking you out?!" she whisper screams in my ear.

"Chill out," I laugh at her, pushing the cart into the storage closet.

"I can't believe you don't care," she gasps, shaking her head.

"I care. I'm just not letting it get to my head," I say, poking her temple.

After I shower, I get ready to go back to my apartment. Lottie tells me she'll meet me in the dining hall and I nod. After I pack up, I walk out and brush my fingers through my damp hair.

I look into the weight room and I see Harry and few other members of the football team. They're big guys; muscles basically growing on each other. One of them looks at me, says something, and the rest turn around. Harry's the last to look and he smiles, making my cheeks flush.

Then everyone starts to talk to him and I walk away, not knowing what is going on. I can tell that the guys give Harry a tough time about girls, more than likely because he doesn't talk to them much. But I think it's cute. He knows what he wants; something most guys don't have.