19 You + Me.

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I was playin' everything, but cool.

"Dude, you have to come tonight." Mason breathes into my ear, whilst slopping his meaty arm around my shoulder. He's sweaty from football practice, well, so am I, but he's essentially been in a sauna, whilst I daintily form sweat beads. Man, I sound like a bitch.

"I need to study for that bloody final in Whitfield's class. I am barely passing and if I want to make it to Cambridge, I need to focus." His face falls, almost like I killed his damn puppy. "I'm sorry, mate, but if we are going to be the best friends forever and ever like you want..." he laughed slightly and shrugs off my 'no'.

"Whatever, H. I understand, but if I need you, can you be on standby? I may have a pint or five."

"Or five? It's usually or two?" He laughs and goes on about some stupid new trick he's trying on the field, it'll apparently get him bragging rights with Cambridge's coach. I try to pay attention, but something, more like someone, catches my attention just across the corridor. Her hair sways innocently across her perfectly smooth face, she swats it away, the spring heat finally kicking in, her hair sticks to her slightly sweaty forehead, along with her glossy lips, I can only presume she layers with balm or gloss.

"Are you even listening to me?" Mason whines, looking over to her as well. "You're ignoring me for Hampstead?" I inquire slightly, looking to him with confusion in my eyes, hoping he will continue. "She's a third year and she's basically a square, mate."

"Her name is?" He rolls his eyes.

"Y/N, but everyone calls her Hampstead because her dad is from there and he's like super famous for inventing a computer program or something." He rolls his eyes yet again and continues on, "she's nice and chill, but she's not into fucking around and she's really devoted to school."

"Cool to know." I stare as long as I can, she laughs with her friend, whom I recognize but can't put a name to.

Mason seems to know and yells her name which I now know is Beatrice. She walks over and Hampstead follows suit. Bloody hell. I will murder him later. I will do it and no one will ever know it was me. Gemma watches those crime shows and I can hide a body and make it look like he went on a vacation.

My murderous thoughts having put on hold, she stops in front of me whilst her friend inquisitively asks Mason what the hell he yelled for her for. Her eyes are even glassier up close, almost like looking into a freshly cleaned mirror. She's gorgeous. Her hair is wavier than I could tell moments before, I'm guessing from the humidity and her constant flipping of it. She's short too. I have to cram my neck to really look at her.

"Right H?" Mason slaps the back of my neck. I didn't hear a word the kid said. I ask him nicely to repeat. "Just telling the lovely ladies that we are going to study tonight instead of that party, they want to tag along." His shit eating grin is enough to bring my Dahmer thoughts back, but I withhold them when her little voice rings.

"I really need some help with maths, so if you two can do that, I'm all in." Her voice is like silk and her eyes crinkle when I mention that I have always gotten A* in all my maths. "Cool, so we will see you guys at 6, long hill library?"

Mason says an aggreance, whilst I stick a thumb up, but not before saying, "not if we see you first!" She laughs and turns away and I see them whispering to one another before her head arches back in a cackle. The sound is music, but it's about me and I know it; it hurts a little, but I quickly recover.

"Smooth, Styles. Real smooth." He laughs. I trip him with my trainer covered feet. "Let's go, you gotta shower for your hot date."

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