The Styles Triplets

Chapter Eighty-One

(TRY NOT TO CRY)

Harry's POV

Talking to Gemma really got me thinking about my relationship with Chloe. I don't know whether to get up and go to school this morning. I have a lot on my hands for this next month an the upcoming one. First off, I have a big game coming up in 3 weeks and I've been going to practice everyday after school since we got back from holiday, and all the snow was cleared up. Then, I have Gemma's wedding and all the work she's been making us do. I'm glad to help, and so have the lads but I'm stressing. Finals are all this week, then prom and we finally graduate in less than 6 weeks. I can't handle so much pressure.

"Hey man," Zayn greets me when I enter the school.

"What's up?" I look around for Chloe.

"Who you looking for?" he looks around the crowded hallways with me.

"Chloe," I give up and walk to my locker. Zayn follows while he shakes his head, "what's your problem with her anyway?"

"Don't get so defensive, I just don't like her," he shrugs.

"Why? There has to be a reason," I pull out my english notebook that I thankfully recovered.

He just shrugs and pulls out his phone, "maybe we can talk about this another time, I have to wait for Perrie at her locker," and he leaves me with no explanation.

...

I walk into English and everyone is seated. I didn't see Chloe this morning at all. Olivia sits in the back with Eleanor and a few other girls. They are all giggling and enjoing themselves. The first time I see Olivia with different people, other than Marcel and Leeroy.

I take my seat in front of Eleanor and all I hear is giggling. I roll my eyes and pull out my notebook.

"Okay class," Mrs. Monroe walks in with her briefcase and settles in at her desk, "I know we have one more month left of school, and everyone is excited, head in the couds, but we need to be focused. Fully finish preparing your minds for the real world. So for todays journal entry we will do something different, you will pull out a subject from this bowl and will do an improvisation of that subject. No acting, just a quick essay, poem or story at the top of your head. No writing, just speaking."

"And what is this supposed to teach us?" Chelsea asks.

"Well one day in life, you will not have time to write down your essays, they may just ask you to come up and give your opinion on something, this will give you some practice and enhance your way of coming up with something to say," her posture is so broad and sophisticating, "who would like to go first."

"I will," Eleanor raises her hand and steps to the front of the room, she pulls out a note and reads it aloud, "friendship."

"They're all simple topics and I want you all to make it interesting and turn these simple, childish subject and turn them into master pieces," Mrs. Monroe adds, "Eleanor, you may start."

I don't really pay attention. I know she mentioned something about how some friends will come and other will go. Some will teach you lessons and make you rethink your choices and for some reason she stared directly at me when she said that. Which did freak me out. It was a good speech for all I did pay attention to.

After Eleanor, no one really volunteered so Mrs. Monroe called on randomly. I didn't pay attention to many. Some were actually quite interesting and some were just really weird. 

"Olivia Grace," Mrs. Monroe calls, "you're up next."

I turn my head slightly to look at her reaction. She sits there with nothing to say and finally gets up. She walks to the front of the room and pulls out a slip from the few that are left.