New Guy on the Street (Larry)

Chapter Twelve: Jealousy is a Bad Colour on You

     “Harry Styles let’s go!” Louis yells up the stairs. Oops. We must be late. He only ever comes inside my house in the morning if I’m running late. “I’m going to pinch your arm if you are not down here in three seconds.”

     “Coming!” I yell, reaching down to grab my backpack and slinging it onto my shoulders before racing down the stairs. Of course I slow down when I reach the bottom steps because that’s where I trip the most. I’d rather not spend my morning getting laughed at by Louis for being clumsy. That happens way too much. When I’m down the stairs completely and meet Louis’ gaze, he rolls his eyes at me. I shrug sheepishly. I know if I make the right face at him, he can’t stay mad at me. Not for too long, anyway.

     “Damn it, Styles,” he says grabbing my hand and tugging me towards the door. “I’m trying to be angry here so can you quit?” I furrow my eyebrows together in confusion.

     “Quit what,” I ask stepping out of the door and pulling it shut behind me.

     “Quit being so… so cute,” he says, pulling me to his car. I giggle and mutter a ‘thanks’ that he probably can’t hear. When we reach the vehicle, he yanks open the door and pushes me onto the passenger seat. I gape at him, which makes him smirk. He thinks this is so funny. Before closing the door, he leans inside and kisses my cheek. “Mornin,” he says before shutting the door, leaving me alone blushing.

     “Morning,” I say once he’s gotten inside of the car and buckled his seatbelt. The drive to school is quiet, as usual, but my thoughts are loud. Louis and I haven’t actually ‘kissed’ kissed since the day I kissed him in his home, but he will grab my hands and play with them and press kisses to my cheek and to my forehead. I love the sensation they give me, but I wish he would actually kiss me. It’s been six days.

     We pull into the packed parking lot of the school and Louis parks in his designated ‘teacher spot’ before putting the car in park and turning it off. I watch as he looks down at his watch. “Two minutes till’ the bell, curls. You better run.” I take that as my queue and grab my backpack racing from his car and into the school building. Luckily my first period class is close to one of the side doors that Louis parks near, so it’s not a far trip. I make it through the door just as the bell sounds off.

     “Close one, Mr. Styles,” Mrs. Peppers says, not even looking up from her desk. I don’t reply; just make my way to my desk, dropping the bag on the ground next to it and sitting down with a huff.

     My heart is still racing from my run. I know Louis doesn’t like to be late, so I hope he doesn’t get too upset with me. Then again, with my adorable face, how could he get upset with me? It’s quite impossible.

     I smile to myself at my funny thoughts while I listen to Mrs. Peppers explain our homework assignment for the night. Has the class gone by that quickly? I look up at the clock to see that there are only five more minutes left before the bell rings for the second time that morning. That just makes my smile widen as I quickly scribble down the assignment in the school-given planner that they give out every year. Something about ‘an organized student is a better student’.

     The bell rings just as I finish packing away my things and I dart out of the classroom. Though I have a boring class next period, I can just think about fun stuff to make the time go by faster.

     The bell rings and rings plenty of times that day, and soon, school is finally over and I go to Mr. Tomlinson’s room, pushing through the crowd of kids who are trying to leave the building. Before I’m even near his door, I get a text from him.

     ‘Come outside. I’m already out here waiting.’ What? That’s weird. He never leaves right away.

     Though something doesn’t seem right, I turn around and make my way through the side door that we usually go out of and fast-walk to his car. He seemed like he was in a hurry, so I don’t want to make him late twice today. When I approach the car, he’s sitting inside with it on and parked, waiting for me. I quickly rush in, throwing my backpack to the bottom of the floor next to my feet and shut the door. Though I would like to ask what the hurry is, I feel like it would be too invasive so I keep my mouth shut.