Peligro (A Harry Styles Fanfiction) INTENSE EDITING IN PROGRESS

Chapter 59

"Good morning kids. Take out your books, we're going to start reading. I read some of your papers, Harry, Aurora, great work. You guys are really amazing writers. Especially you Aurora, you did a fantastic job taking something so personal and really got into it."

The whole class started clapping, though I had no idea why. I blushed and sunk low into my chair. How many times would I get embarrassed in this class this year?

"Anyway, open you books to page 1 and we'll start from there. Before we do though, can anyone tell me anything about Mark Twain?"

The class remained silent and Mr. Lawrence rolled his eyes.

"Come on! There's not one person who can... Good! Mr. Malik. Tell us what you know."

The whole class turned to him and he sighed.

"Again, it's Zayn. And he grew up on the Mississippi and actually used what he knew to write this book."

Mr. Lawrence nodded, obviously impressed.

"Wow, at least I know this school isn't all dumbasses. Anything else?"

"No, that's all I got."

"How about you Styles? You always seem to talk to Ms. Goodman, yet you never raise your hand to say anything to me. I can't ignore my jealousy any longer." He batted his eyes at the boy seated next to me and the class laughed.

"I don't know. I don't really read classic literature. Sorry mate."

The class all laughed again and Mr. Lawrence walked over to his desk, taking a seat on the top.

"Well, what do you read then?"

Harry shrugged.

"That's not a proper answer Styles. It seems by your writing, you obviously read. What's your opinion on Shakespeare?"

"Well, personally, I think he was just a really depressed and angry jackass who couldn't get laid enough so he spent all his time writing and trying to kill as many characters off just to get some sort of kinky pleasure out of it."

Mr. Lawrence raised an eyebrow, smirking and stood up.

"Well, that's different. But I have to admit, you're not entirely wrong. Now I wouldn't say he couldn't get any, the man did spend a lot of time with women. But you're right. He was a sort of angry man. But he didn't try to write satisfy his own angered attitude. He wrote to try to teach his audiences lessons. But good thought Styles. You're a smart kid."

Harry flushed and his grip on his pencil tightened. He was probably pissed. He hated public attention, unless of course he was getting honored for some sort of sexual praise.

"Now like Mr. Malik said..."

I opened the book, skimming through.

Huck Finn was a good book, I had already read it in 7th grade. I didn't understand most of it, mostly because it was written in Southern slang.

Harry thumbed through the pages, obviously uninterested.

My phone buzzed, and I sneaked it out from my bag, trying to be unnoticed by the teacher.

'Want to get out of here? It's fucking boring Xxx'

I looked over at Harry, who was smirking up at the board. I had already snuck out with him last Monday, he wants to go again?

"No." I replied.

"Come on. I can take you somewhere and reward you for you very nice hands (; xxx'