{Tainted} Harry Styles FanFic

Chapter Two: The thought...

                    -Lunch-

          I walk from the lunch line and plop down, disgust being my meal and making me full. I can tell Niall feels the same. In class, he was worn out from the she-devil’s fashion advice. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to choke her, slap her, or both. I, personally, would’ve chosen the last option.

       I look up at him and he picks at his arm hair, lip slightly poking out from disappointment, and shame written all over his face in cursive. He mumbles quite a few profanities, before dipping some salted French fries in ketchup. “I don’t want to work with her. I’d rather move back to Ireland.”

     “It’s not that bad, Niall, just tell her get her crap together.” I advise, pulling hair behind my ears and picking at my greasy half-cooked pizza. “Otherwise,” I continue, looking up at him, “she can get a zero.”

        “Oh yea, that’ll be the water for the witch.” His witty humor doesn’t strike me the right way. I look up at him, face red from being insulted by my only friend. He looks up at me, face hardening, then smoothing out a little. “I’m sorry…I just…I really don’t want to work with her. She’s annoying, and snobby, and her attitude makes me want to-“

          “In the US we can’t hit women…” I stop him before he goes on.

          He looks at me, cracking a smile and leans in, “but that’s not a woman.” I smile and look up to see Harry’s piercing eyes on me. After my incident with him in class, I’ve been avoiding him the rest of the day. I knew it would catch up to me soon or later, we have other classes together.

          I look at Niall, wide eyed, and he looks back at me with a sloppy confused expression. “Do you wanna go walk outside?” I blurt, mind unaware of what my mouth just spit out.

          His eye brows arch, but he doesn’t deny my offer. We get up, dumping our trays, and walking out the side of the building. I glide my finger on the old, chipped red brick walls, being interrupted occasionally by the cracks of design. I look over at Niall, who stuffs his hands –that are slowly losing circulation- in his tight pants. He squints from the wind blowing our faces back, and licks his slightly chapped lips. He looks up at me, realizing I’m staring and smiles. “Why’d you throw away that pizza, it was eatable.”

          I giggle and look back, like Harry’s behind us. “It was…stuffy in there.” I don’t want to say anymore because I feel a clump in my throat even thinking about Harry. Or his eyes.

          “Was it him?” Niall asks, sounding ashamed in what made his best friend upset. His face is mixed with anger yet sadness. He runs a distressed hand through his hair, and looks the other way, hoping I don’t read him like I’m doing now.

          “Who?” I play dumb but it’s no use. He shoots me a look and in that moment, I fail. “Harry’s just…everyone looks at him like he’s Jesus. And he’s soo not…Jesus. I don’t want to work with him as much as you don’t want to work with Dylan. But I can’t risk failing that class, considering I’m already on death row. I just looked at him today and…something…I don’t know. I-“

        “Don’t tell me you like him!” Jealousy is boiling over in Niall’s voice. He doesn’t give me time to deny his over raged question, as he continues his statement. “He’s a complete dick, Ariel. He had sex with Ms. Robinson, dated about a billion girls, thinks he walks on water...he is an absolute dick. And you like him?!”

         I look around, to see people staring. I feel a squiggly liquid dripping down my cheek, but quickly wipe it away. It hurts me because all the things he’s saying are true. All the rumors about him, and I continue to go with the flow, and treat him the way I do.Living up to this phony prophesy.