Peculiar ➳ h.s

(eight)

Stefani's POV

I currently had a crick in my neck from the position I was sleeping in.

The whole night in my room was spent thinking about Harry, and the hug I gave him. I mean, I didn't even have feelings for him.

But why did the hug mean so much to me?

Like...did it mean anything to him?

I mean, the both of us are in relationships. The only difference was that my relationship started two weeks ago, and his relationship started two years ago.

I remember this one day I saw Harry at school. I reckon it Harry had first came back from hospital. It was a sad day for me because, not only, did I find out that one of my friends got injured, but because I discovered that my best friend, the guy I loved, died.

+

I walked to school with my backpack hanging off my shoulder and my phone in my other hand. I scrolled through Instagram, running into some feed from yesterday that I hadn't seen.

I kept on liking every photo that I scrolled past, no matter how peculiar they were. After my boredom level had risen, I shut my phone off.

My ear buds were plugged into my ears, blaring the Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die album by Panic! At The Disco. With each step I took, my black sneakers skidded across the sidewalk. I raked my fingers through my brown hair, occasionally looking up to cross a street.

Once I had finally reached my destination, I looked up to see the building I most dreaded; school. The only thing I actually enjoyed was being with my friends.

I walked past the entrance gates, casting my eyes to the floor. I got bumped into by a few jocks, but they just shouted, "Sorry, Stefani," and got on with their day.

I, occasionally, greeted my abundance of friends that passed by me as I walked to my locker. Toying around with the straps of my book bag, I finally reached my locker.

Grabbing the books I needed for my first three classes, I shut my locker and walked to class. History.

Once I reached my class, I took my ear buds off and paused my song. I stuffed my phone into my back pocket as I walked in class, a couple of minutes before the bell would ring.

I walked to my usual seat, which was in the back of the classroom, tucked into a corner, and dropped my books onto the desk. Sitting in my cold seat, I casted my eyes upward towards the door that led to the hallway.

My classmates had began piling into the classroom a few minutes after me. I waved hello to the people I knew, which was, probably, half the class, or more.

The last student that walked in had been the one that caught my eye. The way his emerald orbs shimmered underneath the fluorescent lighting, and the way his brown hair sat atop his head was enough to make me fall for him. But it wasn't the guy I had expected and wanted to see; it had been his brother, Harry.

A bright blue cast was cased around his right leg as two crutches had held his weight up. A few minor cuts and bruises were running along his face and arms, but they looked a bit healed. He was clad in a Green Bay Packers tee-shirt, basketball shorts and sneakers.

Forty pairs of anxious eyes laid upon his tall frame, including my own set of eyes.

Harry took the next available seat, which happened to be next to me. The gaze that people had on him has focused back onto our teacher.