𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑! | harry styles

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

ALTHOUGH she wasn't as well acquainted with her father as she was her mother, Bree had judged her father, Johnny Hanson, correctly when she'd assumed that he would make her take the Washington State written driving test when she told him about her speeding ticket.

"Dad, you and I both know there's no way I was going over fifty-five," Bree had told him.

Even though he'd agreed, he said that Bree had gotten her license in Arizona, and he'd feel more confident if she studied and passed the Washington examination. Despite his requirement, he did tell Bree that he'd attempt to call in a favor to keep the ticket off her record.

Call in a favor. It was a phrase Bree had heard her father use more than a dozen times since she'd moved in with him. Even though he was no longer on the Lockridge Falls police force, due to an on-the-job injury, (pulled a tendon trying to hurdle a fence), Johnny liked to remind anyone and everyone that he once was someone of importance in their small town.

Bree often felt sorry for her father. In a sense, his entire identity had been wrapped up in his job of Police Chief. Once stripped of that title, through no fault of his own, an identity crisis had ensued. And if he didn't know who he was, how could anyone else?

These days, Bree referred to her father as a professional fisherman. Every chance he got, that's where he was. Not that Bree minded all that much. While any other teenaged girl may have taken advantage of the fact that she was alone most weekends, Bree just enjoyed the quiet solitude. Besides, what could she do to take advantage of the time? This was Lockridge, after all and Bree didn't know anyone well enough to invite them over.

Her mind flashed to Harry. What? No way! Nope. She didn't know anyone well enough to invite them over.

The thought of Harry caused Bree to go to her backpack and pull out the note he'd written her on Friday. Sitting on her bed with it in her hands, she turned it over and over. It was very telling. It explained a lot.

"He either can't spell…did it on purpose or … I wonder if he can even read." Bree thought out loud. The memory of her first tutoring session with Harry sprang to mind. She thought of Harry's father standing in the door, asking her to read out loud – first the sonnet and then the multiple-choice answers to the question.

Bree remembered thinking it was an odd request, but now, coupled with the note from Harry, it was beginning to have significance.

Not that Bree would come right out and ask Harry if he could read or not. She had no plans for that. She could only imagine his reaction to her if she were wrong.

Of course, that was only part of her logic. On the other hand, Harry was smart. And Brre could see him pretending not to be able to read just to get her to do everything for him. But would his father play along with that? Would he go through all the trouble of asking her to read aloud just to be a part of Harry's charade? No, I don't think so…

Whatever the cause, by Monday morning, Bree had decided that she wouldn't address the issue of Harry's reading ability, or lack thereof. Instead, she put the two downloaded copies of the Washington Driver Guide into her backpack and headed out the door.

* * *

Jocelyn rolled her eyes as she watched Connie twirl her fingers through Tom's hair as she sat on his lap awaiting the bell to ring, signaling the beginning of school. Jocelyn loved Connie, she really did, but if she didn't tone down the PDA with Tom, Jocelyn was going to begin taking applications for a new best friend. Seriously, it was beginning to repulse her… and leave her wanting, another feeling she didn't like.

At the thought of unfulfilled desires, Jocelyn began to search for Rebecca and found her. Gladly, she left the company of the love struck lovebirds and strolled up to Rebecca, a question on her lips.