The Rain Falls Around Him (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction) - original

chapter 1

I kicked a pebble. It was small, meaningless. Just a little tiny, dark pebble resting on the rough, weathered sidewalk. There were so many pebbles. However, I could never remember all the pebbles I kicked on my route to school. They were all the same. They looked the same. Same color, same size, scattered around randomly. But this one – the one I was kicking – I took a moment to appreciate it. It was so smooth. The pebble was also big enough so that it stood out amongst others. Even though it was black, like midnight, there were miniscule flecks of some sparkling substance. As it rolled, the flecks glinted as they caught rays of sunlight. In this dull, dreary town, this excited me. So much that I picked it up momentarily.

I wondered where it could have come from. I had no clue where it had originated from, but I had never seen anything like it. As I rolled it around in my hand, I realized it wasn't as smooth as it had appeared. The rough, gritty surface didn't irritate my calloused finger tips easily, but it was definitely noticeable. As I brought it up closer to my eyes, I realized that it wasn't very unique at all. It was simply a small piece of tar that had crumbled away from the broken, paved road that I was walking along. I frowned, upset that I had been fooled so easily, and threw it back into the street back where it came from. Where it belonged.

I sighed as I picked up my original pace that slowed when I stopped to inspect the pebble. I wasn't looking forward to arriving at my destination. High school. I think those words hold a lot of meaning for people, depending on who you are. They can excite you, anger you, tire you, sadden you, irritate you. Based on your individual experience, you can feel completely different than the stranger sitting next to you in class. I'm pretty sure all the teachers think the same thing. The dungeon where they lure in young souls, torturing them endlessly until they decide you've had enough after four years and you ship they off to a similar place, yet there are more parties. Personally, I don't get too excited when I think about high school. As a junior, I've had enough to deal with for several lifetimes. There are so many headaches from completing school work to participating in activities to holding together your slowly diminishing social life. I do a bit of both, trying keep it interesting. I hate school work. I'm smart enough and I guess you could say I'm a bit offended when I have to test my knowledge on something I already understand. I've always understood school stuff easily, and I hate dwelling on the different topics we learn about for a moment too long. However, I have a lot of interests, so I'm involved in several clubs. This makes school somewhat more interesting, but the teachers in charge of the clubs always come up with the most boring activities and projects to do. As far as my social life goes, I have a small one. I attend the regular slew of get-togethers that involve all the stereotypical activities you associate with wild teenage house parties. I have several friends that piss me off to no end and every time I have a conversation with one of them, I wonder why I became friends with them in the first place.

Today, I was particularly irritated because I had wanted to listen to a particular playlist on my iPod, but my headphones weren't working since Delilah, my turtle, had decided they would make a nice snack. I only lived a twenty minutes walk away from school, which wasn't too bad, but it was always nice to walk along to a song you liked. I had been walking for ten minutes, so I figured I had gone about halfway. Since I lived in a small town, the streets ran mostly through neighborhoods and they were normally empty of cars. My route to school turned down a particularly dark part of town, which always made me uncomfortable to walk through. I wasn't scared of much, but the things that went on here, made me a bit uncomfortable. There were a couple of kids I went to school with that lived in this part of town that – I guess you could say – put me on edge. They were trouble makers, delinquents, and always managed to cause some sort of trouble or ruckus. There were a few in particular that were infamous for their wild appearances at parties where they drank and smoked and fucked like no tomorrow. Ironically, those types were all from this part of town. It irritated me beyond belief how these people were the most popular, befriended and loved people in my school. They were at the top of the social class, whereas I was at the bottom. I deemed myself to be far better personality wise than any of those fuck ups and tried not to let their crude behavior and lifestyle bother me. I wasn't a perfect child, but I didn't screw around the way they did.