ARIANA'S POV
I walk into my last class of the day, and sit down in my seat. Today has been......eventful to say the least. Harry and the boys met Ari, and boy, did it shock them. Liam had a look of disbelief. Louis just looked confused. Niall looked hungry. Zayn looked disappointed. Harry looked......intrigued.
The look he gave me was one of piqued interest. Like he was not surprised, but more amused. I had finally become what he said I was along. And it didn't sit right with me.
I didn't like the lengths I had to go to just to get him to look at me differently. A full transformation just for him to give me a look that wasn't full of lust, or hatred. A whole new appearance for the sole purpose of stopping the sadistic looks.
The looks that made it seem like the only joy he found was in my sorrow. As if my pain was his pleasure. It was sick, that look he gave me. And it was the only thing I could hate about him.
I'm pulled out of my thoughts when Zayn passes by me on the way to his seat. He plops down into his chair. I turn around to face him. He avoids eye contact, a deep frown set on his face.
"Y'know, they say that if you keep frowning, you'll get wrinkles." I inform him, though I'm merely teasing.
"Don't speak to me in public. We're not friends. I don't like you. Don't think that's gonna change just because you gave yourself a little makeover." He snaps at me, but he doesn't dare look me in the eye.
"You don't have to be such a dick about it!" I retort, becoming irritated. He and Harry are bipolar, I swear. With an annoyed eye roll, I turn back around in my seat, and focus as Mrs. Hansen starts the lecture.
"As an actor, you must learn to become one with the character you are portraying." The professor goes on and on.
"Meet me behind the bookshelves in the library 15 minutes after class. Not a minute more. Not a minute less." Zayn hisses lowly, and I subtly nod my head, not wanting to pull attention to us by turning to face him.
"Now, Ms. Jacobs," Hansen calls on a random person in the class to do an excercise. "Show us how you would act if you were an Australian motivational speaker."
No one said that she was a normal teacher. In fact, after class, I've caught her taking medication for whatever the hell is wrong with her. It doesn't seem to make a difference.
Amber Jacobs, the girl she called, stands up, and performs a perfect Australian accent. "All you need to do is believe in yourself, and you can accomplish anything! Just believe, and crikey. Mate, you'll be surprised how much you can accomplish." She makes a lot of hand gestures to go along with it.
"Brilliant. Now Mr. Matthews, I want you to portray a woman going into labor. Go!" Professor Hansen commands, and Jackson Matthews arises from his seat. Like I said, that medication is not working for her.
Jackson huffs and rubs his hand over his stomach, where he stuffed his sweatshirt inside his shirt, simulating a pregnant woman. "Somebody get me a damn doctor. This baby is about to come out! Hoo-hoo-hoo! These contractions are coming faster! Hee-hee-hee! Oh!"
The whole class snickers at how dramatic he's being. Hansen nods her head in approval. Matthews sits back down in his seat, content with the reactions he got.
"Now, Mr. Malik. I want you to show us what a New York prostitute would act like." She then calls on Zayn, who reluctantly gets up from his chair.
Zayn drops his British accent and does an American accent. "Hey baby. You looking to have a good time tonight? Well for a reasonable price, you can get me to do whatever you want. You in?"
The whole class not only cracks up by the seductiveness laced in his voice, but we laugh at the fact that his voice sounds like a man's instead of the woman we were expecting to hear.
"Thank you for that Mr. Malik. Tell me, was that a call boy, or a drag queen type prostitute?" Professor questions. Honestly, I've seen both from when I lived in New York.
Zayn simply shrugs in response, and sits back down. The teacher just decides to go on with the lesson. Luckily, she doesn't call on me. I got through the class, and grab my stuff. As I walk out of the class, Zayn grabs me by my arm.
"Don't forget." He reminds me.
"I know." I roll my eyes, flipping my hair over my shoulder.
We part ways, and I go off to stop at my dorm. I get there, and open the door. I'm not surprised to find Nicki in the middle of a heated make out session with her boy toy. But what shocks me is when I find Harry perched on my bed, deeply invested in his phone.
"Nicki, why is he here?" I ask her, and Haz raises his eyes up to look at me, before going back into his IPhone.
"You tell me. He was looking for you. Justin was asking for you, too." She says, detaching her lips from her guy's. Honestly, she just reminds me how alone I am.
"I'll deal with J later, but you just let him in?" I ask her.
She pushes the dude off her. "I was otherwise occupied...."
"When aren't you?" I question, crossing my arms over my chest.
"And you aren't? Two guys looking for you in less than an hour? Getting major dick today, aren't you?" She snaps at me.
"As if I've had sex with Harry or Justin. Meanwhile, you've fucked, what, at least half the guys here?" I throw at her, our conversation quickly taking a turn for the worst. We're both short-tempered, and stubborn, and we tend to take our insults to a whole 'nother level.
"Correction. I believe you've only not had sex with Justin. Remember?" She retorts, and I'm filled with betrayal and fury. She knew that was a touchy subject for me.
"You motherfucking bitch." I spit at her, disgusted by how far we've taken one of our meaningless bickers. Harry arises from my bed, probably sensing that I'm about to lunge at her.
"You know what, you need to leave before I beat your scrawny ass." She threatens, and I allow Haz to lead me out of the room.
I huff out a breath, running a hand through my hair. I try to calm myself down, pacing back and forth.
"You told Nicki that we fucked?" Harry pulls me back to reality. I catch the smirk in his face, and groan.
"Not really." I trail off. I wouldn't dare tell him about that day. He'd probably just laugh.
"Last time I checked, we just dry humped. It meant absolutely nothing. Don't try to get me caught up in your slut rumors." He tells me, grinning the entire time.
"Ariana!" I hear someone call me. I turn, and Justin approaches. Great, just join the party.
"I go by Ari now." I correct him.
"Sorry babe." He smiles at me.
"Now tell me," Harry chides in. "Did you tell him how you were on my dick, too?"
I feel my face turn red in embarrassment. Justin gives me and Haz a look of confusion. I suddenly wish I was invisible. Shit, I gotta meet up with Zayn!
"I gotta go see someone! Bye!" I say quickly, running off towards the staircase to the library. I practically fly down the flights of stairs. I make it to the library, and check behind the bookshelves. I spot Zayn, and he doesn't look happy.
"You got some damn nerve showing up 10 minutes late." He practically growls at me. I gulp.
"Sorry I got caught up at my dorm." I say, directing my eyes to the floor like a child in trouble.
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever."
"What did you want to tell me?" I ask him, and he scopes the area to make sure no one can see him having a civil conversation with me. It just makes him that much more of an asshole.
"Just that I know that you're trying to hide your feelings by giving yourself a makeover." He stated as if I'm some case he's solved.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I question, my body tensing as my mind makes paths as to where this conversation could lead.
"Look, I had a stage where I streaked a part of my hair blonde in it's quiff. It looked sexy as fuck, and the ladies loved it. But I knew deep down I felt that I had to change a part of myself in order to pull myself together. I think everyone changes something once they hit there breaking point." He tells me, like he understands me. When he doesn't. At all.
"You got it all wrong. I'm not you. I'm not at my breaking point. I just felt like showing Harry what a slut looks like so he doesn't end up confusing the real me with the me I am now. I want to do this for me. The same way you not talking to me in public is a pride thing. This is a pride thing. I've had people tear me apart, and make me feel worthless. Well Ari is a bit more durable this time around. And she knows she's worth something." I set him straight. He can't just act like he knows just by learning I'm depressed.
I leave the area we were in, and thankfully, Zayn doesn't follow. I walk out of the library, and bump into someone. They drop all their paperwork, and I immediately apologize, bend down to pick it up. I grab the papers, and notice it has my name on it. I look up at the person only to find Mr. Mormon.
"Professor, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there." I say, handing him his papers.
"It's alright Ms. Grande. Say, do you have a moment? I wanted to talk to you about something...." He trails off.
I start get anxious. "Is there a problem with one of my assignments, sir?"
"No. You're an excellent student and a fine artist." He assures me, and I release the breath I was holding. "I actually wanted to address you and Mr. Styles....."
Just like that, I'm choking on air. Teachers don't interfere. Teachers just keep to themselves, so why is my favorite teacher guiding me to his office to discuss my relationship with Harry? Only one thing comes to mind at this moment. I'm fucked.
*A|N: crying cuz all those fanfics where she gets bullied and there are literally NOOOOOO teachers or supervisors around. It's like "teacher you're in here educating us on bullshit we're never gonna use meanwhile Harold just punched a girl in the face and kicked her in the stomach then called her a fat whore. Wyd?????" Lemme stop playing. Me and my bitch Ziamxsidehoe are gonna write a story together about Harry. It's called clouds. Y'all should check it out when I actually get around to writing the first chapter. And you know how I am when I update......*
Yours Truly,
Ashley👅