Nightmare {h.s | au}

1.5

I had expected that the birthday celebration would wear off within the first four hours of school but here it was lunch time and people were still wishing us a happy birthday. It was growing old, and I needed to find a way out. Reece could tell I was uncomfortable but made no move to help me. He must think that I’d gone crazy while in England.

Maybe I had.

“What does it feel like to be eighteen, Eden?” Lea asked.

This might be the third time she’s asked. I was really tempted not to answer just like every time before.

Honestly, it feels like every other day before except I got a letter from my rancid mother and a pity look from my father like he knew what was in it. But he couldn’t have because the damned thing was sealed. So, maybe it’s just a bit shittier.

I wanted to say it. Those words were on the tip of my tongue just waiting to be let out. But I didn’t say them. Instead, I smiled and said, “I don’t really know. It’s just kind of normal, I guess.”

Lea nodded before turning to ask Reece what he thought it was like. I didn’t bother to stick around to know what he’d say. My body was moving on its own accord to get away. My mind wasn’t working correctly as I turned and maneuvered my way through the school to the back doors.

The warm breeze ran its fingers through my hair as the sun kissed my cheeks. It was unseasonably warm, probably reaching the upper 80s, so I didn’t feel the need to go back inside. Instead, I let my eyes wonder over the green soccer field until my eyes came to rest on a figure in all back sitting on the opposite side in the bleachers.

Walking across the field to me back took the last time I’d played soccer. It was breezy so Aunt Jenna had put my hair in two French braids instead of a ponytail. The field at Kirkland’s school hadn’t been as grassy and green so if you fell, there was a great chance that you were coming up with blood and stickers. I didn’t care about that then; I just wanted to beat the team that we’d been rivaling the whole year in every sport we’d played. Right as I passed to Delia, a queen scorer, I’d caught sight of my Dad sitting in the stands beside Aunt Jenna. Coach pulled me for the rest of the game because I’d become unresponsive. We’d lost that game too. No one thought we could win after I was pulled because Delia and I were the best players on the team.

I stopped at the bottom of the bleachers and looked up. Harry sat in all black with his eyes scanning the pages of a book. He was bent forward so that his shirt hung from his body, making a couple of chest tattoos show and dog tags hang. Without his cocky grin and hard stare, I had to admit that Harry was a good looking guy but not my type. He was too dark, too bad, and too mysterious.

Harry Styles was a bad boy.

I didn’t like bad boys. There’d been enough to weed through when I was in England and none of them were too keen on the idea of a blonde American girl with a bit of sass. But then I’d run into Louis.

“I’d take a picture,” Harry said, pulling me out of my haze.

“If I wanted a picture of you, I’d have snapped it by now,” I responded and put my hands on my hips. The retort was horrible but it was the only thing I could think of right off of the bat. It was also a way to put him off so that he’d think I wasn’t making an effort.

“You’re right…” he sighed and closed his book. He eyed me with those deadly green orbs then sat up straight. “You don’t seem like the kind of girl to seek someone out unless…what is it that you want?”

“Straight to the point…that’s always a good thing,” I said.

Harry jumped up from the bleachers, making his way down while leaving all of his things up there. His feet didn’t stop until they were mere inches away from mine. It was unnerving that he felt so comfortable being so close to me. Had he forgotten already that I’d told him that I was a nightmare?