Where Your Heart Is (A Harry Styles Fanfiction) #pfcc2k16 #Wattys2016

Chapter Two: ~New York~

"This is the start of everything if you want."

*****

February 20th, 2015

"Alright, everyone!" With a loud clap of his hands that resonates throughout the entire room, Professor Morris finally decides to call the class off, "That'd be all for today, see you on Monday 7 am sharp!"

I stop in the middle of a five spin fouette, stumbling to my right and bumping against one of my classmates. I grab his arm to steady myself, and when I look up to see who he is, I find the face of the only guy I could never be able to talk to in the two years I have been a student at this school.

Caught off guard by my sudden, embarrassingly tight grip on him, he jolts slightly in the opposite direction to mine; but when he finally realizes what just happened he returns to his previous spot, flashing a wide, ice melting smile.

"Andy, I'm so sorry... I just..." I mumble, pointing at my legs, unable to speak another word, and proving quite irrefutably how awkward my social skills can really get.

"It's fine." He answers concisely, despite of the incredible smile he has on his face.

And for a few seconds, I just stand there; looking at him, probably grinning like a twit, and waiting for him to say something else. I don't know what exactly, though I think I would take anything he'd be willing to articulate.

But the only thing he does is nod in my direction, with his smile still lingering on his lips. Then he simply turns around on his heels to go grab his bag from the other side of the room. As for me, I am left to my own blushing, hoping that he saw it merely as a sign of agitation due to the brutal dance routine we have just endured.

"What was that?" Striding towards me I see my friend Jasper. He's looking at me with his eyebrows arched in a mischievous expression, and his brown eyes are piercing on mine. "Sorry, let me rephrase that... How lame was that?" he mocks.

I give him a not so soft punch in the shoulder, causing him to falter half a step backwards. His features shift from playful to shocked, which I can't help but enjoy, and pretending to be fatally injured and offended he grabs his bag and slides it across his chest.

"You're an idiot." I say, actively trying not to show that I'm actually amused. My voice was meant to come out louder, but my exhausted body and breathless lungs are definitely not responding to their full capacity. The blushing might've had everything to do with my clash against Andy's toned biceps, but the rest I blame it to this class. "And I have to run!"

Shaking off my pitiful experience from a few seconds ago, I turn my complete attention and capability to freak out, to the fact that I am late for work, yet again.

This has been happening way more often than my sense of shame can actually withstand and even though I have managed, several times already, to keep my boss from finding out, she did caught me a few times. And each of those times she was truly upset, and had no problem to let me see that.

I stick my hand inside the front pocket of my backpack and I take out my phone, praying that it's not as late as I fear it is. To my surprise, I may not be able to walk my way to work like I always do, but I have a chance to be on time if I catch the subway in the next five minutes.

"Come on, Jazz! I have to go." I whimper, snatching my things and picking my pace towards the doors. In the corner of my eye, I see Professor Morris talking to another student and lower my head, walking a little faster, "Hurry up, I don't want to..."

"Miss Matheson..." His severe voice stops me on my tracks, "A word, please."

Great, another word from him is the last thing that I need; especially since I know that by word, he means a bloody lecture on how weak my technique is, and how poorly that reflects on my performances and the harmony of the group.