Help! I'm Having Twins With Harry Styles! But I Hate Him! Don't I?

There is Romance in the Air and Possibly Evil

The dress fit me like a glove, hugging my classy curves, accentuating the hourglass of my modelesque figure. A couple of senior boys walked past in the costume, but even from behind their masks I could feel them staring, and suddenly I felt self conscious and ugly.

“Are you going to stand out here all night?” a female voice enquired, and I turned to see one of the teachers approaching.

She looked kind of like Hagrid.

“I guess I’m just afraid,” I admitted with a bit of a shrug.

“But you are easily the most stunning young woman I have ever seen!” the teacher exclaimed, the hairy wart on the left side of her chin wiggling about like a gerbil super-glued to her face. “I have never seen a more immaculate example of beauty and grace, nor known a creature so fair, that the meticulous artistry of the cloth in which it was swathed, paled into insignificance when compared to that which lies beneath.”

For a moment I stood, speechless, turning over what she had just said, absorbing it.

“Did you just call me fat?” I frowned up at her, sure that the furry appendage clinging to her chin had switched sides.

“Don’t be so obsequious!” the woman chuckled. “Snow White would cower before the immeasurable ubiquity of your countenance.”

“Because I’m just big boned,” I complained, pouting.

I nearly said that I inherited it from my mother, but, obviously I had no idea what she really looked like.

“You should go inside,” the teacher urged. “Harry is waiting.”

I glanced to the door, as if Harry might be standing there; but he wasn’t, and when I looked back to the teacher, neither was she, nor the growth that I was sure had a personality of its own.

Drawing in a deep breath that increased my cup size from a DD to a G, I stepped up to the doors and then pushed them in.

Extravagance greeted me, opulence like the summer palace of some grand poobah. All around the large, vaulted space, students dressed like princes and princesses, swirled and gyrated by flickering candle light.

When the doors closed in behind me, however, everything stopped: the music, the dancing, the breathing. All eyes fixed on me.

I took a step forward, the sound of my heels smothered by the luxurious torrent of soft cloth that shifted around me. Everything else fell into shadow, as my figure became the focus of the room.

“She sneaks out in the middle of the night, yeah,” Harry’s voice sang through the sudden silence. “Tight dress with the top cut low.
She's addicted to the feeling of letting go, oh-woah, let it go.”

I tried to exhale, but the boning on the inside of the bodice stabbed me in the ribs. People didn’t know where to look: at me, or at Harry, who stood at the other end of the ballroom on the stage with the rest of One Direction.

“She walks in and the room just lights up. But she don't want anyone to know. That I'm the only one that gets to take her home, oh-woah, take her home,” Louis continued, and even though Liam was supposed to sing the next part, Harry stepped to the very centre of the stage and took his part.

“But every time I tell her that I want more. She closes the door. She's not afraid of all the attention. She's not afraid of running wild. How come she's so afraid of falling in love?”

“He’s totally singing that to you!” Alexys-Marye-Siobhan gushed, appearing from the wings to reassure me that I was absolutely the centre of attention.