I had spent the rest of my weekend with my aunt and uncle attempting to get my mind off of my encounter with Harry. Nothing was working. While I gardened with Aunt Erin, the bright green of the herbs she planted reminded me of his eyes. When I went grocery shopping, I saw chocolate bars which reminded me of the color of his delicate curls. I couldn't get him out of my head. I felt like I was getting attached to him way too quickly. I've had one nice conversation with him and my blood pressure rises every time I see him. The way he makes me feel is like nothing I've ever experienced. I couldn't put an exact word to it.
I was sitting in the hallway with all of my friends because our spot at the table was taken by some freshmen. My eyes opened and closed as I started dozing off. Niall pinched my side to get my attention. I was leaning on his shoulder and a pile of drool formed on his sleeve. When I didn't get good sleep, I drooled.
"Oh my gosh Niall, I am so sorry," I gushed trying to wipe my pool of spit off of his shirt.
"It's okay, did you not sleep well?" He asked, wrapping an arm across my shoulders. I shook my head no. I had been having terrifying nightmares the past couple of days. Last night consisted of being in a hospital room with Niall dying, but once his monitor flat-lined, he shifted into my dad. I woke up in a cold sweat and tears streaming down my face. Aunt Erin and Uncle John have yet to find out. Worry was the last thing they needed right now. They already had to care and pay for an emotionally damaged seventeen-year-old girl.
The bell rang and I drug myself to English, my pace quickened when I remembered Harry was in that class. Before entering I plastered a smile on my face and put a pep in my step. There he was, sitting in his seat reading. Suddenly, I didn't have to fake my smile. It was somewhat genuine. I sat down next to him and pulled out a book for myself. This time I was reading Fahrenheit 451. It was new to my collection and I hadn't started to read it yet. With my nose in my book, I looked over and stole a glance at Harry. His eyes suddenly averted to mine. I blushed and looked away.
"I had a good time this weekend," he spoke lowly. My blush grew. I was about to respond when Dr. Ashley entered. The whole class turned to the front of the room.
"Alright, your rough drafts should be done today! You don't have to turn them into me, but you get to peer evaluate with your partner. It is always important to get an outside opinion on your writing. Why? Because everyone thinks differently. Not one of you has the exact same essay, or you shouldn't. So begin reading and use a pen to leave comments, recommendations, and added points," Dr.Ashley turned to sit at his desk and began to grade papers form his other classes.
Strong hands gripped my desk and pulled it close to his. I yelped in surprise and he responded with a smirk. That damn smirk. It makes me go crazy, almost as crazy as when he runs his hands through his hair.
Harry handed me his essay and I gave him mine. With a blue pen, I began to mark it down. It was eloquently written, but some of his arguments were weak and needed more evidence. Along with that few grammar and spelling errors were made, minor things. One aspect I deeply respected about his writing is that he always considered the other side. He knew that with doing that it could strengthen his point.
Harry has surprised me so much within the past couple of days. I have never met someone so unpredictable and thrilling. I was so used to all of these plain people, especially with being from Oklahoma. No one has brought me the excitement I feel when I'm around Harry. He was an adventure with no map.
"This is really good," he complimented handing my paperback, few marks upon it, "The only thing I noticed was that you don't stay on topic very easily. You get distracted."
"Yeah," I chuckled, "Getting distracted is my thing. I mean, not really. Sorry, I'll fix that."
I mentally facepalmed. At my old school, I was at the top of my literature club. Yet here I was, stumbling over my words. What an author I was.
YOU ARE READING
1985 (h.s.)
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] After getting over his initial facade I felt as if I was getting to know the real Harry Styles. I learned the little things about him like how he likes his bread toasted golden brown or that he always has to eat his salads with a certain...
