Realize Your Potential (H.S)

Chapter Ten

"So how'd it go?" Nat asks me as soon as she sees me on Monday.

"Hello to you too," I say, putting my bag down.

Nat leans over from her seat to flick my arm and I instantly pull it away.

"Ow," I say, giving her a small scowl.

"Out with it, Hartman," she says, her tone more threatening now.

"It went great, okay?" I tell her, now sitting down. "If anything, it was perfect."

A smile stretches across Nat's entire face and I roll my eyes playfully at her as I grab out my Glass Menagerie script.

"Did he ask to see you again?" she presses on, leaning closer now.

"Yes, he did. And I said yes," I tell her, looking over my lines for tonight's scenes.

"I knew you two would be great together," Nat says, excitement obviously filling her voice.

"Did you?" I ask, glancing over at her. "I didn't think you had put that much thought into it."

"Of course I did. As soon as you two met I started wondering why I didn't introduce you sooner. You're both attractive and sweet. Seemed like a good combination," she says.

I nod. "If that's all it takes."

"I'm glad he took the initiative too. I was afraid you were going to get mixed up with Styles or something."

Her mention of Styles brings my attention right back down to my script.

It never crossed my mind that Styles and I would ever be anything more than just two people who almost despise each other. Or rather he seems to despise me and I'm on my way to feeling the same towards him, but at his own fault.

If our first interaction wasn't weird enough, the few minutes I spent at their rehearsal was a disaster. My presence in the room was enough to turn him into a massive jerk and I don't think I'll ever understand why.

"No," I finally answer Nat. "I'm sweet, remember? And Styles is anything but."

Nat shrugs. "He has his moments, but I've known him for most of my life."

"Of course," I say.

"Not that that's any excuse for him being a dick to you. He's usually not like that," she says.

I want to ask more on the matter, but I find that I can't. Because Nat told me once before that there were a lot of things that she couldn't tell me about Styles. Maybe those things she can't tell me explain why he's like this. Maybe I'll just never know.

Daniel enters the room soon after and we get started on our class. We're finally being assigned our scene partners for our acting midterm and I'm pleased to find out that I've been assigned with Evan. We both share a smile as Daniel places our scripts down on our desks.

The rest of the class is spent reading through our scenes and figuring out what our characters want and who they might be as people. Evan and I are on the same page as we bounce ideas back and forth and I tell him I'll make sure to pick up the full script from the library over the weekend so we can do more research.

Before I know it, class is over and Evan and I continue to discuss the details of our scene as we leave the classroom.

That is, until we hear the yelling coming from down the hall.

From a very familiar door.

The three of us pause, along with a few other students, as we listen to the heated voices and I can instantly tell who one of the voices belongs to.

As his name crosses my mind, the door to the room suddenly flies open and Styles walks out with his guitar case already positioned on his back.

"Where the hell are you going?" Liam asks, following behind him.

"Anywhere but here. I don't want to be around you duffers anymore," Styles says, his jaw locked as he turns to face Liam.

"So you're just going to leave? We're in the middle of a rehearsal," Liam says.

"No, we're in the middle of a lecture. I'm tired of getting so much shit from you about these fucking songs, mate," Styles says.

"All I was saying is if you could actually help us out with the writing instead of complaining about how piss poor our attempts are then we would really appreciate it," Liam raises his voice slightly.

"Yeah, brilliant. I'm the only one who has written any songs that were actually any good and all I'm saying is everyone else needs to pull their own weight," Styles goes on.

"You wrote those songs weeks ago," Liam says. "Get off your bloody high horse and realize we're a band and we all need to contribute."

Styles lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

"Look. Cool down, take a night off, and come back tomorrow. We're all trying here, Sterling. We just need a little bit of help," Liam says, and turns to head back into their rehearsal room.

The hallway grows silent and I watch as Styles stands there for a moment. His eyes are fixed towards the ground, his fists are balled up at his sides, and his brows are pulled together to make harsh creases on his forehead.

Finally, he looks up from his spot and begins down the hallway, seeming to notice us all standing there for the first time.

"Enjoy the show?" he asks harshly only towards me.

My eyes widen slightly, but he's already pushing through us all. His feet move fast as he walks out the door, leaving me completely astonished as I remain practically frozen in the hallway.

Why was I the one being targeted?