-

Chapter 32

Accompanied by a sudden jolt in my heart, I felt the need to return the gaze. My heart thumped at a faster pace as I glanced back into his compelling orbs. Then I was abruptly hit by a strong yet unfamiliar feeling. Electrifying chills were shot up my spine. What was that? I didn't want to look away. I wanted to be close to him. I needed to feel his warmth. Something was taking over my senses.

"Helena?" I was knocked back into reality. Daniel had already opened the door and was waiting for me on the porch.

"Y-Yes?" I stammered.

"Were you even listening to me just now?" He questioned, narrowing his eyebrows. I hadn't even noticed that he'd been talking to me. I felt terrible.

"Yes." I mumbled, stepping outside. 

"Then answer my question."

"Could you repeat it?"

"Nevermind." He murmured.

_________________________________

"Pick you up at five." My mother told me before rolling up the car window. I frowned at my awkward image in the tinted glass. As she accelerated off, I carried myself into the noisy play school.

I'd offered to help around at a play school for disabled children since I had nothing productive to do. I would also get some extra credit at school for volunteering work. But I wasn't doing it just for the credit, I liked kids.

They always make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I think it's their purity and innocence... how they've seen nothing of the world yet. When you're with them, you can somehow integrate into their school of genuine personas.

"Ms Helena Lilan, I presume? Your school called and told us you'd be here." A skinny, tall woman who looked about forty shook my hand.  "Thank you for volunteering." Her deep wrinkles stretched as she smiled at me.

"You're welcome. Happy to help." I smiled back at her, slightly bothered by her large, protruding mole by her lips. "How do I address you?"

"Mrs Georgina would be fine. Come on, I'll show you the class you're assigned to."

Small squeals and banging could be heard as I followed her along the corridor of the small school. I hoped they wouldn't wreak much havoc because I was afraid of naughty kids. They're like little gremlins.

But the class I was assigned to wasn't that bad. When I entered the classroom, the children glanced over at me with wide, glossy eyes. A strong scent of poster paint was present. There were seven children and some had cleft lips, down-syndrome and some were even in wheelchairs. Something inside me broke just watching them.

There was a teacher there showing them how to create artwork by dipping their hands in paint. "This is Helena, kids. She's going to be with you all today." Mrs Georgina announced as the whole class stared at me.

"Hi, I'm Beatrice." The teacher greeted. She wore horn-rimmed glasses and freckles were splattered across her cheeks.

"Nice to meet you." I shook her hand as Mrs Joanna left the room with a smile.

I helped Beatrice teach the kids to make hand-paintings. They were brighter than I expected, with multiple colourful artworks produced within an hour.

"Dug... dug!" A girl tugged at my sleeve with her paint covered hands. I looked down to see a brown dog painted on her paper.

"Dog? Yes, it's a dog! Wonderful!" I giggled as I helped her spread glitter over her painting.

I was having fun. Like I said, when you're with children, they somehow take your woes away. You feel like you're one of them and you're suddenly carefree. That is, until...

"Helena," Beatrice called. "You're from Gripleville High, yes?"

"Correct." I replied, dabbing a little boy's hand onto some paper.

"There are two more volunteers here with us today. They're in the other class." She told me.

"Really?" I turned to her. "I didn't know that."

"Yes. Two guys." She bit her lower lip.

"Okay. Do you know their names?" I asked, wiping my hand with a cloth.

"No. I was wondering if you did." She grinned, exposing her metal-lined pearls. "'Cos they're kind of really cute."

The blaring sound of the bell interrupted our conversation. It was snack time. The children hopped out of the classroom as Beatrice followed. Within seconds, there was a stampede of little gremlins in the corridor. I followed them and my feet were crushed on by littler feet and rolled over by mini wheelchairs. 

"Ow." I groaned to myself and bent down to see what had happened to my foot. Then I felt a hand on my arm. I looked up to see Harry smirking down at me. Of course it was him. I could never avoid him no matter how hard I tried. Gripleville was too small. I just knew it was Harry when Beatrice talked about someone from my school being here.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, pulling me up.

"Volunteering." I answered, jerking my arm out of his grip.

"Sure you're not following me?" His smirk grew wider and I couldn't help but smile at his charming demeanour. A part of me missed him.

"Please smile more." He told me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as we walked along the newly empty corridor. The children had rushed to the snack room.

"Zayn and I still have to do community work and stuff." He ruffled his messy curls.

I couldn't contain my laughter when we entered the snack room. Zayn was holding up packets of snacks whilst the kids attacked him. They clawed at him, demanding for more crisps.

"Me! Me!" They shouted. "I want snack!"

"You'll get your snack, just stop trying to kill me!" Zayn turned to look at us. "Good, Helena's here as well. Help me give out the snacks, you two." He threw a few packets of crisps and small cartons of juices to Harry and I.

I handed out the juice cartons to them while Harry gave out the crisps. The madness died down once they had their little fingers on their delicacies.

"Volunteering too, huh?" Zayn questioned, walking over to me. He tried to relieve himself of the strain by stretching his arms.

"Yup. I'd rather be here than at those parties they're having." I told him, referring to a party Josh was throwing.

"Meh." He scrunched his nose when I mentioned Josh. "Well, Harry's doing very well."

Harry was laughing with the kids and cracking jokes. I smiled at how they seemed to love him. He had this... appeal to him. I wouldn't know how to describe it but he can get along with anyone. You just can't hate him. But something inside me churned when he carried a boy on his back, giving him a piggyback ride. I was reminded of Polly... and how Harry was probably the father of her unborn child.

Harry trotted over to us with the little boy on his back, chuckling. "Why sour face?" The boy asked.

"Yeah, why the sour face Hel?" Harry repeated.

"Uh - nothing." I thought of what to say. "Y-You'll be a great dad." It slipped.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me in confusion.