To Find You (Harry Styles)

Curls

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I woke up slamming the off button on my alarm clock. Dammit 7:30 already. Time to get ready for the hell hole that's school.

I got dressed slipping on a pair of Forever 21 jeans, a light sweater, and some open toe sandals. I lived in America, in the deep South, near the beach. It didn't get cold, even in January.

I have curly strawberry blonde hair reaching halfway down my back and hazel eyes. I have pale skin and have never gotten a tan even with hours of laying out in the summer sun. I am an average height for a girl 5'5 and I have long legs. I'm not the skinniest girl in the world but I'm not plus size either. I just have some meat on my bones thanks to 11 years of soccer. Yes, I am the artsy athletic type. We are rare I know. I have narrow feet which make it impossible to find the perfect pair of boots for the winter. I have a few freckles on my face and a couple on my arms and legs.

I'd never been the girl whose been the center of attention unless it's in theatre. I'm moderately shy around others until I get to know them better but I am a fearless best friend. I was not afraid to get in someone's face if they messed with any of my friends. I just tried to be the best friend I can.

I walked into school and was immediately greeted by my group of friends as they walked with me to my first period class. This was our ritual. They followed me to class and we gossiped until the bell rang and then they'd  leave letting me prepare for class.

All my teachers liked me. They actually asked me for advice about their classes and their teaching methods. It's what I'm used to. I guess I just gave off that vibe to teachers?

Three classes later and we finally had lunch. I sat with my friends at our usual spot away from everyone else and gossiped about last night's events and whose dating who and who cheated on who. I just sat and listened and gave advice when asked. I'm never the one who asks for advice. I'm not normally in a situation where I need it. I didn't let myself get into situations that are risky or not set in stone.

As I said previously, I was boy crazy. Well, at least everyone thought I was. I didn't see any harm in playing the act and pretending to be someone I wasn't. I just wouldn't let it interfere in school work.  Singing and acting were my life. I always wanted to sing and/or act for a living. This was just my "internship" as an actress.

It wasn't really like these people were my true friends. I could never really tell them anything. I was afraid they would just gossip and tell other people and so on and so forth. My only true best friend didn't go to school with me. Her name was Madison, and she was my other half.

And, all of you girls out there know that when your best friend loves something so much that they would die for it, sooner or later you will become obsessed with the same thing too.

In this case however, it wasn't a thing.

It was who.

She was obsessed with One Direction. And lately, I had fallen for the infection also. I thought that all of the boys were extremely talented, but of course, there was one who stood out to me the most.

This specific man had untameable brown hair and piercing green eyes.

His name was Harry Styles.

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 Every Friday I go shopping with my mom at the mall and have lunch together and catch up. Even though we only hadn't been together for a couple of hours.

As I was going to get a refill on my sweet tea (my version of red bull) .I knocked into someone and my drink spilled all over my outfit.

"Shit!" I heard being said. I would have said it but my mom was right there and I didn't want to get my mouth washed out with soap when I got home.

His voice was strangely familiar. Raspy and deep.

I looked up at the speaker and my mouth hung slightly open. There, standing before me, was a man dressed in dark wash jeans, a Beatles T-Shirt, and brown combat boots. But it wasn't his face that caught me off guard it was something else.

A dark chocolate curl.