Trouble. (niall horan au)

chapter 1 - scandalous forearms

It was raining that day.

Of course the weather should of been a clue, because in the sort of dramatic, cheesy midday soap opera that was my life, the universe would want only the best scenario to set up a major plot twist. But I was too busy watching rain streak down the windows and guessing which drop would make it to the bottom first to even consider the possibility of adventure. A thick blanket of gray lay draped over the sky, plunging the empty classroom I had been sitting in into that peaceful, school-like state of bad weather, trapped behind thick panes of glass meant to keep restless kids in.

And although I didn't know it, the sudden rain wasn't the only brewing mess that had rolled into town that Tuesday.

Somebody finally discovered my hiding place during free period. I had been camped out in an empty classroom with a thick, cheesy romance novel in my hand (spoiler alert: they kissed in the rain and the girl died). A blur streaked past the open door and down the hall sometime during a dramatic love proclamation (also in the rain). I heard sneakers squeak to a halt before turning and entering the room. It was balantly clear I had been trying to avoid, like- conversation, by the effort I had put in to go so out of the way. So I pretended to be too immersed in my reading to hear them approach.

"Have you seen him?" someone whispered. I slowly lowered the book, jolting back slightly in my seat when I find my friend Maggie's anxious face mere inches from mine.

"Seen who?" I asked, reluctantly folding in the corner of my page and setting it aside, choosing to ignore her odd arrival.

She smiled and shook her head, evidently pleased with my ignorance of any social news. "So you haven't seen him yet."

"As fun as this is, it would go a lot quicker if you just told me."

It wasn't uncommon for Maggie, my red headed best friend, to come barreling towards me with some snippet of stupid gossip. Frankly, I didn't care, and would've rather continued to read, but I knew that she'd screech it in my ear one way or another.

After glancing around to make sure nobody was listening- despite the fact that we were, literally the only people in the room -she scooted her chair closer to me and whispered, "There's a boy."

"Are you serious?" I gasped, feigning shock, "A real boy? Well by golly, its been years since I-" She smacked me. "Kidding," I continued, "It's not as if half the student population are in fact, boys."

"Don't be such an asshat," she scowled, while trying hard not to smile. "You know what I mean, there's a new kid."

I nodded slowly, still not catching on. "Fascinating. I hope he gets a warm welc-"

"He moved from a public school in Ireland. Real scary looking, like from the streets. And," she paused for a dramatic effect, "His hair is dyed purple."

"Is that allowed?" I wondered aloud, my interest rising.

The school is very strict on dress code. Uniforms are required, which will explain why everyday I'm forced into a dreadful pleated skirt, jacket, and tie (they certainly weren't considering style nor going for a slimming effect when they were designed) Tattooes are forbidden, and so is hair dye. So basically, anything cool. We're just one mass of grey, struggling through High School with matching scowls of distaste.

"Of course it's not allowed," Maggie exclaimed, absently twisting a lock of hair, "Nothing here is ever allowed. In fact, where's your jacket? The professor will get mad if he catches you without it."

I groaned and dug around in my book bag, pulling out the navy jacket and slipping it on. I could feel my individuality being squashed more every second. The large brick building reminded me of more of a prison then anything; white wash walls, and an alarming lack of windows.