Back For You (Harry Styles)

{BOOK 1- COMPLETE} Meet Amabel Walker, the girl who kept everyone else out, who put up walls to protect herself from another accident, like the one that caused her hideous scar on her neck. She’s bitter and doesn’t let anyone in, but that soon changes.

Now, meet Harry Styles. Worldwide boy band hottie. Slighly cocky, but charming and sweet when he needs to be. He’s caring, and wants to help Amabel get back to being her normal, carefree, silly and loving self. Can he get under her skin and make her come out of her dark shell?

**** THIS BOOK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON www.wattpad.com/AlliM11 ****

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1. Chapter 1

 Chapter 1

I tightened the scarf around my neck to block out the freezing air from my exposed skin. As I started the ignition to my car, my mother poked her head out the front door to make sure I was safely inside my vehicle. I gave her a thumbs up in response, hoping that she saw it.

It was the middle of December, and the snow didn't show signs of stopping, or easing up for that matter. I was on my Christmas break, and headed to the local library, because thanks to my English teacher, Mr. Martin, I had a three-page paper due the day we got back to school. Being a senior at Mountain Hill High School had its ups and downs, this particular situation being a down.

Actually, I wasn't planning on completing the paper, which got me a lecture from my dad, telling me how important grades were for college. I had rolled my eyes at him before walking away. I had never been the goody-goody type, not the one that always followed the rules.

On the road, the ice, slush, not the mention the constant fall of snow, caused people to drive extra slow. I let out an impatient sigh and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, studying my painted nails. I was fucking freezing and wanted to get home as soon as possible. On a normal day, I would be home by now. But no, people had to be the idiots that they were. Pressing my palm on the horn, I was this close to giving the guy driving the car in front of me my middle finger. The person was crawling at impossibly slow speed 15 miles per hour in a 35-zone. I groaned. 

          Stepping on the gas, I swerved around the asshole and into the second lane, where I was able to go at least 30 miles per hour. That made me happier. Pulling into the library, I tucked a loose strand of my blond hair into my beanie hat. I furrowed my eyebrows at the sight of the parking selection, the closest one not close enough for my liking. I locked the car behind me and walked inside. I didn't waste time; I knew what I wanted. I checked out a book by Shakespeare, and muttered a thank you to the elderly woman at the checkout counter. 

When I was walking through the parking lot, all I could think about was the warmth and coziness of my home. I almost fell, so a special thanks to the patch of ice in front of the driver's door. 

Not.

Absentmindedly, I flipped the radio on. I usually didn't listen to the radio; I hated the current pop music. I was more a Mumford and Sons kind of person, not Katy Perry or Ke$ha. Ugh.

I blinked, my attention caught by a song that was playing. Listening to the lyrics, I decided not to turn it off. It was cute, I guess, and not shitty. Tapping my foot to the beat, I pulled out of the parking lot and turned it up. 

"And that was One Direction with 'What Makes You Beautiful'. You asked for it, and we played it." the radio newscaster perked up. One Direction? I thought the name ringed a bell, but I couldn't think of anything. 

A smile formed up onto my lips as Ed Sheeran's 'A Team' began. I love Ed. My eyes snapped up, catching the light turning from red to green. I pressed the gas, eyes focusing on the road ahead. A split second later, a black car came from the right, headed to the passenger side at an alarming rate. 

Eyes wide, I was paralyzed with fear. This was a new kind of fear, the kind that made my life flash before my eyes. Something inside my head told me to slam on the brakes. So, I did. I have no clue why, my tires screeching. 

*****

When I opened my eyes, my head was pounding and my ears were ringing. I put my hand to my head and released a groan of pain and confusion. The sound of sirens and screams were barely audible. I looked around confused and saw glass everywhere. panic began to set in and I was about to call for help when a man comes and opens the door. He yelled something at me, but it didn't sink it. I couldn't understand him.  

I stumbled after him, feeling something sticky on my forehead. It was blood. I gasped, suddenly remembering slamming my head on the steering wheel at the moment of impact. I was lucky nothing was broken. 

I was thrown into an ambulance, but we didn't go to the hospital. There was no need. I was fine, besides the cut on my head, and apparently, the person driving the car that hit me was perfectly fine. Not fair. 

Three paramedics surrounded me, but I waved them off, claiming I was fine. I was, but my head hurt. I was told the person driving the black car tried to stop at the red light, but the ice caused him to slide into the intersection. 

"Where is he?" I yelled, startling them slightly. The pointed behind me with raised eyebrows. I whipped my head around, and noticed a boy talking to a cop, and they seemed to get along well. What the hell? 

I stormed to him, the smoke coming out of my eyes almost visible. He was about my age, with green eyes and brown curly hair. He was about 5'10'' I guessed. The thing I noticed the most was how much hair he had. As I approached him, I threw my hands up in the air. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I shouted, narrowing my eyes at him. He just looked at me with a blank expression on his face, almost like he seemed bored. I saw his eyes sweep over my face, then over my full body. 

"That" - I pointed to my car - "You are so paying for that!" My anger only built when the boy smiled slowly, showing me his large dimples. "Nothing is funny about this! You wrecked the rear of my car!" I clenched my fists at my sides to keep from hitting him. Thankful for my luck, I looked back at my car, only the rear left side was damaged. 

My eyes widened when he pointed to my forehead and started laughing. I groaned, and stomped to my hurt car, closing and locking the doors. I was not in the mood for a joke. He pissed me off, even though I had only talked to him for about 30 seconds. No one had ever extracted such a reaction from me, and I didn’t want to figure out why.

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