2. Chapter 2
“Who’s your favourite?”
Skylar almost burst into fits of laughter, realising how keen Chloe was talking about this subject. She was now completely facing her, her green eyes demanding an answer.
“Erm,” Skylar finally began, tapping the table with her pen. “I can’t decide, actually. But I guess it would be a tie between the tanned skin one and the one with curly hair?”
Skylar could’ve sworn she saw Chloe’s face drop at the mention of the two boys. Wrong answer? After a moment of silence, she was just about to ask who Chloe’s favourite was, before finally hearing Chloe speak again.
“Harry! Oh wow, he’s the popular one isn’t he?”
Slightly laughing, Skylar shrugged. She wouldn’t know. Let alone some boyband, she didn’t know half the things going on her school. Not academic wise of course, but general things normal teenagers go through: school drama; school gossip; or school’s couples. Unlike most girls who’d do anything to get a hold of the latest news, Skylar just didn’t bother.
The bell finally rang, indicating it was time for what Skylar had been looking forward to all day: home. Lazily standing up as she packed her things into her bag, she felt Chloe’s green eyes piercing her, demanding attention yet again. Skylar then looked up, raising an eyebrow as well as forming a smile, “Yeah?”
Chloe immediately tilted her head, shocked that Skylar had noticed her staring. “Oh, nothing. I wasn’t aware of how cool you were, Skylar.”
Skylar paused for a minute, contemplating to decide whether she should consider that as a compliment or not. In the end, however, she gave Chloe another smile, muttering a small “Thanks,” before exiting the class room.
Harry let out a cough, as he pulled the hood of his jumper tighter, covering his trademark brown locks. He was now standing by the gate of a private school, missing his lunch break, hiding behind a tree. If only Niall hadn’t provoked him by saying he needed to get laid, he wouldn’t have snapped and took the nearest taxi downtown.
Clearly, the Irish lad really knew how to get into his head. Niall had been taunting him the other day about how he was never going to see Chloe again, unless he had gone for desperate measurements. Harry later found out Niall’s definition of ‘desperate measurements’ was to ‘stalk her during school time and make sure you look as normal as possible in your Flasher disguise’.
“Damn you Niall,” Harry muttered under his breath, shoving his hands down his pockets. There was still no sign of Chloe, eventhough he had already entered the school area at this point, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d manage to muster the courage if she ever appeared. Would she even remember who he was? Of course she would you fool, you’re Harry Styles, he quickly thought, shaking his head.
Almost suddenly, a crowd of girls appeared behind the entrance door, wearing light blue shirts and plated dark blue skirts. Following them, appeared another crowd of boys blended in, wearing the same style of shirt and beige pants along with black blazers. Harry couldn’t help but wonder how it felt like attending the school.
He knew they had to be posh, seeing most girls were using Louis Vuitton’s as their school bags, and he was beginning to wonder whether it was the right choice to come all the way here at the first place. Sure, Chloe Adlington was dropdead gorgeous; somehow intriguing; and not to mention, model material, but what if she had an obnoxious personality? Or even worse, what if she was taken?
Harry cursed his ability to get attached easily. Wow, what was he thinking? He was in One Direction, for crying out loud, why the heck was he desperate over some girl? He was just about to turn around, until he recognised a very familiar figure. The wavy blonde hair, the green orbs. Chloe Adlington, surrounded by a couple of her guy friends.
Without him knowing why exactly, his fists were beginning to clench, his head down. Why was he feeling jealousy? Who was he to even go here? He didn’t know what to do: he felt extremely humiliated; confused; stupid, and angry. All he could think about was to literally give Niall a lesson for getting into his damn head. Furiously turning around, he felt a smack on his chest, followed by an object almost tripping his feet.
Upon the sudden accident, Harry immediately looked down, noticing a tall, slim figure almost laying on the floor. Automatically, he snapped a small “Fuck!” as he offered a hand, only to be ignored. Harry had almost expected the girl to break down crying, or give him a death glare, but she did nothing as such. Instead, she began standing up, rubbing her elbows once she was all settled.
He couldn’t help but notice the bruise he had caused on her porcelain skin, and truth be told, he didn’t dare observing her face, due to two reasons: she was slightly scaring him; her brown hair was covering half of her face. “Are you okay?”
“Delightful, thank you for asking,” she muttered in a very sarcastic tone, yet oddly enough, gave him a warm grin. He hadn’t noticed her face until this point, and he couldn’t help but admire how she actually looked. Before he knew it, he was already comparing her to Chloe. She had dark straight hair, and a light shade of brown as her eyes. Her eyelashes were extremely long, causing her already beautiful eyes to pop up.
He began to feel slightly uncomfortable as her stare deepened, and that was when it all sunk in. He had managed to observe her in details because he no longer had his sunglasses on. Just then, the girl slowly tilted her head to the side, “Who are you?”