Hold My Hand

Maggie is abused by her step-father. Her mother died two years ago, leaving her with him. Not to mention, she is bullied at school by, the most popular kid in school, Harry Styles. When in one class, they are forced to work together, as partners, and Harry refuses to work at his house, he stumbles upon the abusing in action. When Harry realizes what she is going through, will he help her? Or just ignore it? Will they come closer through the project, or just farther apart? Find out in Hold My Hand.

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3. Not the Best Idea

Chapter 3
Not The Best Idea
"You know, we should probably go to your house.." I try once more. "Butler. I said no. We are going to yours." Harry says as he pulls into my driveway. I get out of the car and slam my door shut. "Hey be careful! This is my baby." He says, hugging it. "Jackass." I mutter under my breath. "Damn straight." He says. I scoff and fish my key out of my pocket. I put it in the lock and turn it. "George! I'm home! We have company!" I look at Harry. "Well not really company... He's here to work on a project." I finish. "We'll you know damn well, Maggie, you need to tell me these damn things before you just bring people home with you!" He yells. He's obviously drunk. I look awkwardly at Harry. "Sorry George. We'll be upstairs." I say, running up the stairs, Harry hot on my heals. "Uh hang on a second." I say quickly running into my room and cleaning things up. He opens the door with a smirk. "Oh, stop trying to impress me Butler. I know I'm irresistible but you don't have to show it!" He says. I sigh. "Are you going to be like this all day?" I ask, exasperated. He just smirked. "Lets get started." I say. "Maggie!" George yells from downstairs. I gulp. "Yeah?" I ask. "Get down here!" He drawls. It's hardly even four in the afternoon and he's already drunk. "Stay here. Do not come downstairs." I say pointing at Harry with a wild look in my eye. I walk down the stairs, my hand trailing the railing. "Yes?" I ask. "Why the hell did you bring a boy home without my permission?" He says, swaying a bit. "I told you, we are working on a project and it was short notice." I say, picking my nails, a nervous habit I have. He points a finger in my face. "Don't you ever do it again okay?" He slurs. I nod. He grabs my arm. I can see the stove is on, but there is not pot of water. I wince. He sticks my hand on the stove. I gasp and cry out. I try to pull my hand away but he holds it there. "Stay still." He says. After minutes of my hand being on the stove he hits me in my arm. Hard. I hiss in pain. "George. I need to go-ow!- work on my project!" I cry. "Fine." But once you're done come straight down here." He drawls. I walk up the stairs holding my hand. I go to the bathroom first, putting cold water on my hand and wrapping it up. I look at my arm where the bruise is already forming. I quickly put on a jacket. I walk back into my room. Harry is looking around. "What were you doing down there? What happened to your hand?" He asks. "I, uh, fell going down the stairs." I say. He looks at me weird then nods. "Hurry your ass up so I can get out of this place." He says, rudely. "Whatever. It's not like I want you here." I snap back. But, in reality, I wanted him to stay, more like, needed him to stay, so George couldn't get me alone. Trust me, it's not that I wanted HIM here, I just needed him here. Oh you get what I mean. "So what do we wanna do the play about?" I ask, tapping my pencil against my folder. "How am I supposed to know?" He says obnoxiously. I stop tapping. "What are you thinking?" I ask, impatiently. "She said we can change it later on but we have to get something." I say in his hesitation. "Okay?" He asks, obviously frustrated. "Look. I don't want to be here anymore than you do so can you please just focus so we can get something done?" I practically scream at him. He looks at me with wide eyes. I saw shock and exasperation in his eyes. Wait, was there something else there too? It went away before I could focus in on it. I shrug and look down at my paper. "Okay since you obviously can't think of anything, I'll look at suggestions." I say. I look down at the paper. Love, romance, hate, and sci-fi. Well we could obviously take out sci-fi. "No sci-fi." I say sternly. He looks at me. "You know Butler, it's weird, this is the second time today I have agreed with you." I snort. Finally, we come up with an idea. A famous boy, runs into a small-town girl, and they, um, fall into, you know, love. It was weird. We were going to have to act this out. We decided to call it Serendipity. "Okay. You can go home now." I say, shooing him. "My pleasure." He says. I walk downstairs with him and immediately George comes up and pushes me to the floor. "What took so damn long?" He screams. "I don't know!" I cry. The tears sting my eyes. He kicks me. "Ouch!" I hiss. I look up to see Harry staring with wide eyes. "What are you looking at boy?" George screams. Harry runs out. Maybe now he understood why coming to my house was not the best idea.
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