Demons (Harry Styles)

Harry Styles, the hot bad boy at school who doesn't like to date his school's girls because he thinks they're 'too immature' but will the new girl, Samantha Jones, change his mind or will he still think the same as always?

Copyright © 2013, Imagin1Dx™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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3. Chapter 2.

WOKE up by my alarm going off. It was incredible how the weekend went by so fast and now was my first day of school, so, if today I didn’t make any friends I knew I’d be an antisocial fucking loser. I took a quick shower and when I was done I stood in front of my closet with a towel wrapped around my torso, but then I remembered I had to wear uniform so I grabbed my underwear and put them on and then I did the same with the rest of the uniform, I hated it but wearing uniform had its perks. Like, no one could criticize me by my clothes because we were all wearing the same ones, or the fact that I didn’t have to stand in front of my closet for almost twenty minutes thinking what I was going to wear because I already knew what I had to wear, so uniforms were not that bad after all. The skirt was too long, it went almost below my knees and it looked really bad, so I decided to roll it up a little bit on the top, making it go just to my mid-thigh.

When I was done I went to the bathroom to brush my hair and my teeth, then I headed downstairs to finally have my breakfast.  I was so damn hungry, I hadn’t eaten anything for approximately ten hours, so I just got ready as fast as I could,  it didn’t take me too long because I couldn’t wear makeup either, that was definitely not a perk of living here. I looked horrible without makeup, I looked like a mess, but now that I thought about it, I could apply some concealer under my eyes just to cover those awful black circles under them and I could also wear some foundation and powder to cover all my zits and skin imperfections, it was not that much of makeup was it? It was kind of invisible, though, so just when I got downstairs and that idea popped into my mind I decided to turn back around and walk to my bathroom and apply that tiny bit of makeup. When I was done, I now went downstairs to have my breakfast; for real this time. I greeted both of my parents and sat as my mom handed me my plate full of food. It looked delicious. Some fried eggs, three strings of bacon, two sausages, pancakes and orange juice. I definitely loved food; I ate a lot even though I didn’t get fat. Why? I didn’t know because I didn’t work out either.

When I was done I placed my plate and glass in the dishwasher to head to the bathroom once again and brushed my teeth... Again. I brushed my teeth twice in the morning for a simple reason: When we sleep our mouth gets dirty again, even if we brush our teeth at night, (which I always did) that’s why we wake up with a really bad breath, and if we eat without brushing our teeth before, that means we’re eating all the dirt and germs that are in our mouth, so that’s why I brushed them before eating and I brushed them too  after eating because well, I didn’t want to have a bad breath.

My parents were given their own car, but they didn’t give one to me. Awesome! Cars here were pretty weird, though; the steering wheel was on the right side, so it must have been odd for my parents to drive them. This meant my Dad would have to drive me to school and home; that didn’t embarrass me; though.

“Dad, I’m ready!” I yelled.

“Coming!” He yelled back.

He quickly came downstairs as he put his jacket on in a rush; he grabbed the car keys and headed to the door as I followed behind him. When we approached the car he opened his door and sat on the driver’s seat while I opened my door and sat on the passenger’s seat, which in America would be the driver’s seat. This was odd. We both buckled ourselves and my Dad put the key in the ignition, turning the car on and driving off to my new school.

The drive was silent but not an awkward silence, it was more like... Comfortable. I decided to break the silence by turning the radio on and humming a few songs I knew. In less than what I expected, my Dad was pulling in front of the school and I started getting really nervous, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I grabbed my backpack from the back seat and said goodbye to my Dad as I walked towards the building.

What was I supposed to do now? Where did I go? Where did I have to get my schedule? I thought to myself as I was walking. Oh God. Being new was definitely horrible. I started walking around going exactly nowhere and suddenly, I not on purposely bumped into someone.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized to that beautiful blonde girl standing right in front of me.

“Don’t worry; you’re not from here, are you?” She asked me in that beautiful British accent she had.

“No, I am not.” I smiled at her politely. “I’m from Florida, in America.”

“Oh that’s cool, nice to meet you, then.” She pulled out her hand to be shaken and I gladly accepted it.

“Would you mind telling me where I have to go to get my schedule?” I asked a bit embarrassed.

“Of course, over here.” She gestured me with her hand to follow her. “I’m Rosalie, by the way.”

“I’m Samantha, nice to meet you.” I smiled.

“Nice to meet you, too.” She smiled back and the rest of the walk was silent.

She took me to this big library. I was actually amazed by how this school looked like a big fat house on the outside but on the inside it actually looked like a school. I told the lady behind the counter my name and she started looking into a bunch of papers for my schedule.

“Here you go.” The lady handed me my new schedule. “And welcome to Holmes Chapel Comprehensive School, by the way.” I took the paper and muttered a ‘thank you’. Rosalie did me the big favour to walk me to my first class, I didn’t really want to get lost in this school.

“Thank you,” I told Rosalie before stepping into the classroom where the teacher was already talking about something I couldn’t hear quite good, and that could only mean one thing: I was late. When I got in, the teacher and all the students turned around to face me and I started to feel my cheeks heating up as I muttered a ‘sorry for getting late’, but the teacher didn’t seem to care as she noticed I was new in both school and country.

“You must be the new one!” She said excitedly.  “Sabrina, right?” She smiled.

“Samantha.” I corrected her kindly as I started walking to an empty seat.

“Come over here, darling.” She smiled again and gestured me to stand next to her. Being the new one definitely sucked. “My name is Mrs. Thompson and I am going to be your Home room and your Math teacher for these six months that you have left. Now, tell us a bit about yourself.”

God how I hated doing this! I was literally shaking right now, I hated speaking in public.

“Um... Well... My name is Samantha Jones, I am seventeen years old, I come from Florida, in America, and well... That’s it.” Oh, and I hate being here with all you British people and there’s nothing I wish the most than to go back to America, but I am not going to say anything because I don’t want you to hate me and be a fucking loser, I thought. I smiled embarrassingly as I rubbed my arm with my hands.

“That’s good, you can sit down now.” She smiled again and I turned the smile back.

I sat next to a black-haired guy and started paying attention to the teacher, well, maybe not, I did hear her saying something about the last semester of the year and what we had to do and whatnot, but what I was truly doing was checking every single person in this classroom, just predicting to myself what they were like, I spotted a ginger girl who seemed really smart and she was pretty, too. I spotted a black-blue haired girl who looked like she didn’t do shit in school and had bad grades, and then I wondered why she was in senior year, but then, my eyes caught a brown, curly-haired, green-eyed guy, with the uniform worn the wrong way, sun glasses, even though we were inside the classroom and there was absolutely no sun (I thought wearing that was forbidden,  by the way) and his hair brushed to the back, making it look like a kind of quiff, and I could now tell how he was like: typical bad boy. I had to stay away from him. I had to stay out of trouble.

 

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