Here Comes Trouble

Jammie was the "bad-girl" type girl. Everyone hates her but most of them secretly love her. She's the queen of the school. Everyone listens to her because they're afraid of her. She's been in trouble more than 50 times and has been taken to jail 15 or more times, who wouldn't be scared? One day, a new kid from England comes to school. Harry Styles was his name. He was the same type of guy. They both act as if they hate each other but deep inside they know they have strong feelings for each other.

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3. Who Made You King Of Anything? - Chapter 2

                                                             Jammie's POV

I sat down on my bed and grabbed my paper and pencil. Every night I write my feelings out in a song. This year, I'm planning on writing my own song for the talent show at school. Tonight was the night that I finally start writing it. I already got an idea. That new kid, Harry Styles, is a total pain in the ass, so it's time to get my feelings out. 

I tapped the end of the pencil on the notepad. When the first lyric came to my brain, I quickly jot it down and sing it to figure out the melody. 

"Keep drinking coffee, stare me down across the table. While I look outside. So many things I'd say if I were able, but I just count the cars that pass by."

I was on a roll with the first verse but got stumped at the chorus. "Maybe this'll work," I mumbled before writing down what I was thinking. 

"Who cares if you disagree? You are not me. Who made you king of anything? So, you dare tell me who to be. Who died and made you king of anything?" I sang the lyrics I wrote down on the paper. Perfect! I close the notepad and lay it down next to me. That's enough for today. I'll finish writing tomorrow. 

"I'll spread my wings and I learn how to fly. Do what it takes till I touch the sky." my phone rang. I quickly looked at the caller ID and smiled. Zayn Malik. He's my best friend. The only boy in school that I can actually stand. I quickly answer and press it to my ear. 

"Hey, Parks!" he shouts. 

I smile. "Hey, Malik. Why are you calling me so late?"

"I met some guy at school today and he asked about you. He asked me to call you so he can talk to you. So, here he is," he said before handing it to who ever he was talking about.

"Hey, bitch," a familiar voice said in the phone. No-no-no-no-no, it can't be. It can't be him! 

"Styles?"

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