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Make a list of all the things that could go wrong, my mother always said, and out of them, choose the worst one. Facing the worst will prepare you to handle the world.

That's a peculiar advice, I had always thought. I had never really applied it, but I didn't have to. I was a normal girl, maybe the kind who likes to stay in her own company in silence, the classic quiet girl at the back of the class. And of course, the biggest decision I had had to take in my life was whether I should've painted the walls of my room white, or light blue. And in the end, I had them painted of white, feeling like the colour blue was too daring for my likings.

I only had one friend and did not go out in the evenings, but I was quite content with how I was leading my life.

That is, until he came around.

His name was Harry Styles, and be it the way he carried himself around or his extremely wondrous looks, I knew he would've made my life a tad bit harder the second I first looked at him. He was in only one of my classes, and sat far away from me, almost on the opposite side of the room. Needless to say, my grade in maths dropped a little bit. I would sit on the edge of my seat, my gaze moving between my notes and him, the monotonous voice of my teacher in the background. And more than once I had looked at my notepad, just to realise I had been inadvertently sketching him. I had always ripped the page off right after, balling it up and throwing it away the second I left the room.

He never looked at me. More like, he never even glanced in my direction, not even by mistake. He seemed not to notice anything that wasn't in his line of view, metaphorically.
He only hung out with the most known people in the school, because we all know popular people have an uncanny interest in beautiful ones, and if his looks didn't describe the word beautiful, I didn't know what would. Soon enough, his dashing looks had made him known, the word spreading like wildfire. He was the most popular person in the school, and nobody even knew why.

However, his lack of interest in anyone that wasn't his friends wasn't a completely misfortune to me, for it allowed me to look at him a bit more than I would've usually trusted to look at anyone else.

He was beautiful and, unfortunately, nothing attracted me more than beautiful people. I couldn't even pinpoint what it was that made him so absolutely perfect in my eyes, if his own, of a sharp silvery green, or the way his dark locks contrasted his milky complexion, or how soft his rosy lips seemed to be. It was just him, in his entirety. He was more than I'd ever seen, and as much as I loved it, I also hated it. He was too much for my sight to hold.

"Sierra? Are you zoning out again?" A sharp voice next to me asked, and I glanced in the direction it came from.

I gathered my thoughts, going back to looking at my notes as a wide smile spread on Ella's face. "Or are you looking at Harry Styles again?"

"I'm not" I whispered, automatically lowering my voice as our Maths teacher passed by.

"You so are. You should go talk to him" she replied as the bell rang.

My eyes widened. "Are you crazy? No!" I hissed.

"Alright then" she said, "If you don't want to talk to him, then I will. I'm not gonna let such a hottie pass by me without doing anything." She fixed her short dress, short enough to challenge the school code, before making her way towards him, her golden head held up proudly as if she had nothing to be afraid of. She stopped right in front of his desk as he gathered his things, not lifting his head.

"Hi!" I heard her say excitedly, and the second hand embarrassment washed over me, making me wish I could've hidden under my desk.

He glanced up at the sound of her voice, an impassible look on his face as he stood up, towering over her. He looked at her straight in the eyes for a few seconds, without saying a single word.

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