The (Ex) Step Brother ➸ 1.d au

Adonis

"Miss Winchester?"

Hazel had made it through her first three days intact; Abby had stayed true to her word and had introduced her to a bunch of preppy rich-kid-types whose names were so similar she was sure she wouldn't be able to tell them apart.

And now, here she was, in fourth period Biology, trying to stay awake, wondering what Year 12 students did all day because she hadn't found Harry yet.

"Huh?"

Mrs Hayes sighed, and gestured at a diagram of the human digestive system.

"I asked you if you knew what this part is called."

"Oh, um, that's the duodenum, Mrs Hayes,"

Satisfied with her answer, the biology teacher continued her lecture, not knowing that her newest student had zoned out once more.

"Psst. Hazel."

Hazel's eyes snapped open - had she really been falling asleep? - and she turned around. One of the girls Abby had introduced her to was seated behind her, and she was wearing a look of utmost curiosity. Hazel racked her brains for the other girl's name but nothing came to mind.

Damn it.

"Er, yeah?"

"Jessie told Kelly who told Andrea that you're Harry Styles' step-sister. Is that true?"

For once, Hazel was lost for words.

"That's a lot of people with a lot of similar sounding names, but um, he's my ex step-brother."

The girl's eyes widened.

"But you were siblings at some point?"

Hazel nodded, confused. She didn't know where this was going, but she had a feeling it wasn't anywhere good.

"Then you wouldn't mind doing me a favour, would you? I -"

She was right.

"You want me to tell him to take you to prom? On a date? Get married? Sorry, but we're not close. We don't talk. I haven't even seen him the whole two months I've been living here. You have the same chances of him listening to you as I do."

Hazel turned away, and continued the doodle in her notebook, trying to count the number of times she'd had girls like these ask her for 'favours'.

The other girl wasn't done yet, though.

"Psst. Hazel! That's not what I wanted to ask you-"

Mrs Hayes looked up reproachfully.

"Delia, it would be great if you could keep your talking for outside the classroom. You are in Year 11 now, Miss Johnson. Act your age."

Delia. So that's her name.

"Mrs Hayes , I was asking her a doubt 'Cause there's this concept I don't really get, yeah? And well Hazel was helping me out-"

"As much as I appreciate the fact that Miss Winchester pays enough attention to help not only herself but others too, I would prefer it if you could ask me your doubts. After all, what am I here for?"

Hazel tried not to smirk.

***

Delia followed Hazel out when the bell signalling the end of the class rang, much to the latter's chagrin. Hazel sped up in an attempt to lose the redhead, hoping she was on of those athletic-looking-but-lacking-stamina types, but Delia seemed fit enough.

"Hazel, wait up!"

Training her eyes on the ground, Hazel was practically sprinting now, when her head came in contact with something hard, yet warm, and very human (she'd walked into walls before).

If this were a movie, I'd look up and see Harry staring down at me, she thought, trying to delay looking up at the face of the person she'd collided into.

"Sorry, you alright?"

She may not have heard his voice for four years now (they'd kept in touch for a year after the divorce), but he definitely didn't sound like that. Hazel looked up, straight into the sky-blue eyes of the cutest boy she'd ever seen.

He was in a dark denim jacket, worn on top of a casually wrinkled white long-sleeved shirt that was their school's uniform. (Beautiful people seemed to be able to carry off even something as unsightly as un-ironed clothing!)

His faded black jeans (how come he hadn't got caught yet for being out of uniform?) fit him snugly in all the right places -- Hazel blushed thinking this - and the grey-black tie was just the right amount of loose.

He was, in other words, the perfect Adonis.

Delia and everyone else around her seemed to blur into the distance.

"I-I'm okay, thanks. It's really my fault; I should've looked where I was going -"

The sex god stopped her politely.

"It's fine. Don't sweat it."

"Yo, Tomlinson! Styles found yer math textbook!"

Styles? Hazel thought frantically, stopping Mr Adonis in his tracks by speaking up - clearly and slightly more confidently this time.

"You're friends with Harry Styles, then?"

Adonis looked at her with a pained look of politeness. Evidently he'd had girls asking about Harry too.

"Yeah, listen, I can't guarantee anything -"

Hazel put her hand up to stop him mid-sentence.

"I'm not asking you for favours. We're um, old friends. I haven't seen him in a while - I just moved here - so it'd be great to see him again."

Adonis raised his eyebrow.

"'Old friends'? Sorry, love, but I don't know if I could..."

"My name's Hazel Jean-Winchester. Perhaps he's spoken of me?"

The sex god's eyes widened in surprise.

"You're Hazel? Wow, really not what I was expecting...He's in the band room, I'll show you the way."

She had no idea what Harry had told his friends for them to be so surprised, but she followed Adonis anyway.