*1 Week Later*
“No! I have not heard from him, God!” I shout through the phone and slam shut my cell phone on the metallic table in the cafeteria of our school. I’m currently sitting with Zayn, Perrie, Willow, Chris and Niall. I met Niall a couple of days ago. Apparently he’s also one or Harry’s friends. When first, I met him, I thought to myself how he could fit in with Harry and Zayn, but have learnt that he too was arrested with Harry, but no one really knew about him.
“Another cop?” Willow asked. I nod and put my head into my hands. Harry hasn’t contacted me once through the week, except for one text:
I’m fine. You should stop calling.
I found the text vague and completely rude. How can he tell me to stop calling? Everyone is worried about him and he doesn’t even have the decency to tell me- us where he is.
“Hey cheer up, Poppet. He’ll be fine.” Niall, who was sitting next to me tried comforting me. I smiled slightly at him and shook my head.
“You’re right. I mean, he’s Harry. How can he not be fine, right?” Everyone agreed with me and then the bell for the last period rang. Everyone gathered their bags and belongings. I waited for Niall after everyone left, he was just throwing away his trash when I heard two voices coming from around the corner of the cafeteria, close to the girl’s bathrooms.
“They’re saying he killed his mom you know?” it was definitely a girl’s voice saying this, but I couldn’t really comprehend who was talking. I looked back at Niall and noticed that he was busy talking to someone on the phone, so I decided to get a better view to try and see who was talking.
“Well I’m not really surprised, he’s a Styles. You know what they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” The two girls giggled. I knew exactly who they were. They were the school’s most preppy cheerleaders, Sadie and Tamzyn. Who are completely full of themselves and pathetically stupid.
“Yeah, I still can’t believe it though, I mean Harry i-“ I had finally had enough of them talking nonsense about someone behind their backs. I take a huge step forward and next thing I know, I’m standing in front of the over-makeup’d girls.
“Maybe you should take a look at your own lives before judging someone else’s.” I defended and they laughed sarcastically and smirked.
“Maybe you should stop eaves dropping on other peoples conversations. How childish.” They burst out in fake laughs and I glared at them.
“Not as childish as two conceited, bitches that don’t have anything better to do with their lives than talk trash about people they don’t even know. Now that is childish. Take some advice and grow the hell up, because just your personalities alone make me sick to the stomach.” I smile at them sweetly and turn to walk away, but one of them catches my elbow in their hands and I’m spun back around to face them.
“You are going to wish you never said that.” The blonde airhead said to me, obviously trying to look intimidating. I smirk and yank my arm from her grip.
“And you’re going to wish you never got that nose job. If I were you I wouldn’t even be able to show my face in public. You know with that huge synthetic tomato in the middle of your face, but hey who am I to talk.” I grin and finally walk back to the cafeteria, luckily Niall is off the line and waiting for me, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. A gigantic smirk plastered on his face.
“Well who would’ve thought that the London Collins could trash talk?” He chuckled and I groaned, slapping my hand against my forehead. He laughs and drapes his arm over my shoulder, leading me to our class.
“I didn’t think you heard.” I mutter and he laughs louder.
“Well you know it’s hard not to listen when you hear the two most popular girls in school being put in their place.” He says and now it’s my turn to laugh. We get to class and for the period Mrs. Beckham makes us all do a pop quiz on what we’ve learnt this last semester. I of course get everything late and finally the day comes to an end.
I throw my school bag on my bed and fall down carelessly on the soft furniture, burying my head inside the pillow.
“Well doesn’t this look fun?” I jump up and see the one and only Harry Styles, standing in my bathroom door. I get up from my bed slowly, trying to figure out if this is real or not. My feet move patiently slow towards the tall male with curly hair. I find myself standing in front of him and just as he is about to speak, my hand flies up in the air and I give him a well deserved hard slap across the cheek, sending his face snapping to the right with the force of my poorly manicured hands.
“Ow! God dammit, London.” He groans, holding his cheek in his one hand. I glare at the clearly in pain boy. After a couple of seconds, when his cheek –I’m assuming- does not hurt anymore, he looks at me. Our eyes lock and as my hand goes up to smack him one more time, he catches my wrist and stops me from causing him any possible bruising.
“What is wrong with you?” He asked, gaping and I just shake my head and push at his shoulder with my one free hand. He seems unfazed by my form of attack and captures my other hand prisoner in his much larger one.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask and he looks away from me, but keeps his hold on the tiny addlings on the end of my arms. I try looking at his face, but he keeps blocking me.
“Harry tell me n-“
“I can’t.” He says and he finally looks at me.
“What do you mean you can’t? Do you not trust me or something? Is that what it is? You know what, get out. Get out of my house.” I attempt to free my hands from his, but he keeps them in tight lock, trying to pull me closer to him.
“Hey,” He grabs onto my waist now and keeps me forced against his body. I look down at our touching stomachs and look back up to meet his emerald green eyes. “I trust you okay? I do, but this is just too private and I just can’t tell you okay. Don’t be upset with me, please.” He says, searching my eyes with his. I stand there, looking at him for what feels like minutes, but really is only a few seconds.
“If you trusted me, you’d tell me.” I say and he narrows his eyes at me. I shrug and wait for his reply. Seconds turn into minutes and I sigh and push him away from me. “Just forget it, you clearly don’t care so just go.”
“I went looking for my father.” He finally replies.