Little Freak {HS}

II - Paperwork (part two) - Taken

Someone knocks on the door and we all look at it instinctively. The teacher changes her previously interrupted words on what are the odds of throwing two dices and both stopping at the same number to "Yes?"

"Teacher Mary, I found this student wandering the corridors when he was supposed to be in your class." The Principal's voice says seriously as he opens it. I'm sitting against the wall of the door, but I'm in the back, so I can't really see who's at it. But I'm also trying to focus on writing down what's on the board anyway, so don't pay too much attention at it. But I still catch the Principal letting out a giggling at the teacher's confused expression, "I'm just kidding. I was the one to borrow him for some moments. Forgive me about that."

"Oh, of course. Come on in, then." The teacher gasps out, matching the giggling, and asks, as the boy does as she says and Principal Davis wishes a good morning and continuation of the class and goes away, closing the door, not waiting for a reply, "I suppose you're the new student. I had never seen you around.."

I only understand the lack of response being a simple silent nod because he steps in front of the board, right where I was looking at, waiting for the teacher to tell him where to sit with his eyebrows frowned for some reason.

"Will you tell us who you are?"

"Uhh.. my name is Harry." The deep low voice with a British accent makes me look at him more properly, as I was unprepared for such.

"Styles." He adds, his harmoniously sharp lips barely moving. He blinks slowly a couple of times, resting his hands on both the back pockets of his tight black leather pants. So tight, in fact, that I wonder to what level he feels comfortable in them.

He fixes his gaze somewhere outside the windows and purses his lips. Then, his short sleeved red shirt and the white t-shirt underneath move as he takes one of his hands out to brush his long dark brown curls back, leaving the trace of his fingers in it. Is it greasy?

"There's really nothing more to say." He finally turns his light colored eyes to the teacher, showing off his equally sharp nose and, mostly, jaw. I raise my eyebrows to myself, at this event and at the several tattoos he displays on the arm of wich hand he returns to its previous place, after having grazed the corners of his mouth with its index and thumb. Everyone seems to hold their breath as if they expect something either incredible or terrible to happen.

"Well, I'm sure there is. But I suppose we'll find out as the days go by, right?" Teacher Mary replies in a soft tone and he gives her a fast twist of those corners.

"Hmm I suppose you can sit over there, since you already know Zayn." She adds, scanning the few free sits on the class, ending up pointing to the black crest haired boy on the opposite wall to mine, and he immediately does. So he knows Zayn.

Zayn is another member of the One Direction band - he's on the drums, I think. I didn't even know his name, to be honest -, which means he probably does know the rest of them. And now that I think about it, it wouldn't harm any of us if I tried to make this my opportunity before it is taken away from me. I could go talk to him and see what he thinks about participating in a band, who knows he would accept it. He kind of looks like a keys kind of guy. And the big hair quiff swarthy one is already doing that for them so..

I go back to the maths matter on the board, as well as the teacher, determined to give him one of my announcement paper at the end of the class and leave him to think about it, in case he hasn't seen the ones I fixed yet - which is probably the case.

One hour and so after, the bell rings and I snap my head from my notebook. An immediate rampage is heard in the classroom, as well as in the whole school, as people start packing their things to go to the next class. And I do the same of course, but never as fast as them.