redemption: harry styles

Chapter Forty Four

"You're doing work rather than play one game of basketball?"

Luke was standing in front of me, panting after the match he played. He still had the ball in his hands, bouncing it sometimes.

"Ew." He glared at my homework. "Forget that, come on, let's play."

"I don't want to," I muttered, sketching doodles into my school diary with a black pen. "Go out there and kick butt. You're wasting time trying to get me to play."

It's been half an hour after I've begun doing some work here in the gym; the sounds of balls and rubber hitting or sliding against the floor echoed in the room, and the screams of boys playing a game prevented me from concentrating so I barely did anything, but sketch. I was just about to leave to put my books back in my locker, but Harry was unexpectedly there, grabbing my arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked. He was sweating and breathing heavily from the match he just played. His face was red because of the heat; he had to keep a sweater on to cover his tattoos, even though they were concealed with whatever he used. When he took his shirt off before, they were covered with a skin-toned paint thingy, but since I was sitting closer to him I was able to make out the black lines and marks.

"None of your business," I shot back and yanked my arms out of his grip. The movement made my body turn around slightly, and I was facing Luke. He was giving me a sad stare, but had a glint in them when he looked at Harry. Harry noticed and glared back.

"Who's that piece of shit?" he asked with a slight smile, sizing Luke up and down. I rolled my eyes at him.

"My friend," I retorted and moved away from him. Harry grabbed me again by pulling me back by my shoulder.

I stared coldly at him as he spoke. I wasn't comfortable with being around him. "If you're gonna put your books away as an excuse to get away from me, you need a better excuse," he said, raising his eyebrows at me.

I shred away from his sight and exited the gym. The air in the hallway wasn't exactly fresh but compared to the mixed odor of sweat and aftershave, it was. I descended the stairs at the end of the hall.

The hallway was quiet. Only a few students were inside, either walking somewhere or getting something from their lockers. A few just stood pointlessly, leaning against the walls with no trouble.

A girl with fiery red hair had just slammed her locker closed once she saw. I held her gaze as her blue eyes narrowed and her hands rested on her curvy hips. I haven't seen her before, but she looked like she knew me. More than that, she looked disturbed to see me.

I pressed my lips together when I realized she stood right across from my locker, next to Mykela's, and continued to glare at me without a reason. She stood there until I put my books away and gathered next class' stationary and locked my locker shut. She seemed confident, but was hesitating to speak to me--I could tell.

Fed up with everyone staring at me since this morning, I turned to her with a cold expression. "Did you want something?" My brows rose, but she didn't move.

The punk girl had thick eyelashes, coated unnaturally and fair skin. Her small height would've made you think she was thirteen, but the curves around her hips and chest proved otherwise and she wore large-heeled boots to make her taller.

She blinked, probably surprised I had the courage to stand up to her--her being popular and all. "I should be asking you the same thing." Her voice was smooth and calm but had a sharp edge to it.

"About?" I asked. Peculiarly, I felt like I knew her.

"Finn, what the fuck else?" she said calmly.