"Ha! I told you you'll be begging." Cara says and laughs like a maniac the moment I tell her that I needed Harry's number.
"Ugh, please. I'm kind of in the middle of the line between sane and total crazy." I mutter, I totally don't know were those words came from.
"Mmkay, I'll send it to you."
"Thanks." I say.
"Although," she says, just when I thought she'll end the call.
"What?"
"Does Jensen know about this?" She asks and I can already see her grinning deviously.
"No." I say plainly. "Why?"
"Nothing, it's just, you know so him to like overreact when it comes to you and other boys" She says and now I think I understand.
"I'll deal with it when the time comes. Besides, like you, I'm not even interested in Harry."
"Whatever, have fun." Cara says and then she ends the call.
And then I call Harry.
"Yep?" He asks, "Who is this?"
"Taylor." I answer.
"Swift?"
"Oh no, probably Styles - of course, Swift! Harry, come on." I remark sarcastically.
Harry chuckles. "Oh, Taylor Swift. H-How did you get this number?" He asks.
"Desperate." I answer as quick as I can. "Can I ask you some things? Please."
"S-Sure."
"First of, how'd you get the key to my toy?"
"That's easy." He says. "It's part of the package although the sender wanted to make sure you really get it rather than forget about it."
"That was confusing." I say, I feel another headache coming. "Anyways why do you act like you know me most of the time?"
He is quiet for a moment. "Wouldn't you rather ask me that personally?"
"You don't answer."
"So that's the reason why you only approach me or call me?" He asks and that's making me a bit guilty.
"N-No b-but--"
"Know what? I'd rather you treat me like I'm your friend than someone who can provide you answers." He says and I swear, that's the first time I heard him sound like that.
"Tss, you got me. But I'd rather you don't confuse me and actually answer when I ask." I say, I think, a bit too stubbornly I might get him mad. God, no.
"Alright." He replies calmly. "I act like I know you because I think I do. . ."
"Wait, what?"
"I just-- you're a puzzle, remember?"
"I think I get it." Wait, no, I don't.
It is quiet for a moment and then I hear him take a deep breath. "Now, can I ask you something?" Harry asks.
I figure we're both doing the same thing. "Okay, shoot."
"Why do you hate music?" He asks. I don't really remember if someone has already asked me that but the feeling weirds me out.
"I don't hate music." I mutter. "For the love of God, I'm a freaking cheerleader, it's part of it."
"Music that has nothing to do with cheerleading." He adds.
"Shoot." I mumble, I bite my lip trying to think of one of my reasons.
"Think I haven't noticed that? When I see you in the hallways, you just seem really irritated when something is playing." He says, clears his throat and then continues, "Plus, you used to play a lot of instruments but now you act like you don't. Who told me? Louis, Maxine, Cara and Katie."
With the way he talks, he seems to be blocking every possible question.
I almost speak again when he says, "No, I'm not a stalker."
Shoot, he saw it coming.
I open my mouth to say something when he talks again, "And no, I don't read minds. I'm not a vampire like Louis thought too."
I groan, "God! How in the hell are you this good?"
"I like reading people and rating their predictability." He replies and I'm guessing, he's smiling right now.
"So are you telling me, I'm predictable?" I ask, raising an eyebrow for nothing.
"No." Harry answers. "You're not predictable. I swear, you're really complicated from the first time I met you."
"Other terms, I was a headache since you met me." I say because I somehow think that's true.
"No." He negates me once again. "You're never a headache to me, remember that."
I sigh, "Thanks, that's one out of six billion who doesn't think I'm a headache."
"Two, Jensen." He corrects. "Three, your dad. Four, your mom. Five, Katie. Six, Maxine. Seven, Cara. Eight, Lou--"
"Okay, I don't need you to label them all out." I cut him off harshly because that kind of talk really irritates me for some reasons.
He stays quiet like he's waiting for me to say something.
"God, sorry for being this way." I sigh.
"No problem to me. Just don't do that to yourself."
"Do what to myself?" I ask.
He sighs as well. "Thinking you're useless. You have no idea, Tay. If only you saw--"
He stops, he really had to stop every time he almost says something.
Harry takes a deep breath and then says, "Forget it, don't let me bug you."
"If I do?" I ask.
"If you call me one more time tonight, you'll find me at your door as a response. Now you wouldn't want that, right?" He says and I can really see his smirk boring at the back of my mind.
"See you tomorrow, Harry." I say.
"Yeah, goodnight, Tay." He says with a sigh and there's something in his voice that sounds different. It isn't awe or fascination or anything else. . . he just sounds a bit melancholic. Or it's just my imagination.
The next day, Harry is waiting right by my locker, and unfortunately, we're too early that we are almost alone.
"Morning." Harry says with smirk.
"One day off with questions?" I ask.
"Yep, deal. That way we can be like normal friends." He says. "So what's your next class?"
"No questions." I say. He laughs and then I give in, "Science, the one that sucks the most."
He laughs a bit harder. "Let me guess, you hate the computations?"
"Yeah. Now, excuse me." I tell him and he moves aside knowing that's my locker that he's leaning on.
"Why do you hate computations?" He asks and I'm starting to remember the no-question-today thing.
I blink a couple of times trying, to decide if I'm going to answer or not. "Numbers make me dizzy." I answer.
"And music?"
I close my locker and take a deep breath. "They all seem meaningless."
I observe Harry's reaction and I can see his surprise, like shock in his eyes mixed with disappointment. I can see his eyes welling up a bit. "What happened to you?" He says in a whisper.
That question comes strange to me. I don't understand it. . . "Harry what do you mean--"
He gulps, and I think he's blinking back tears. "Right, sorry." He says and takes a really deep breath. "It's just, sorry, I got lost for a second. I mistook you for someone."
"You what? I did not catch that." I mumble.
"I got lost, I forgot I'm talking to you. I got lost in thoughts, alright?" He asks and rubs his eyes.
This guy must have gone through something painful because getting lost in some thoughts can already make him sad, even almost cry.
"That's okay, I guess. I uh, I get lost in thoughts sometimes too." I say with a smile. I'm getting really weirded out and I don't think I want to know what happened to Harry so I say, "See ya around."
"Y-You too." He says and then we separate. I only walk a few steps when I feel him pull me back.
One, two. . .
My head counts to two seconds until Harry has completely wrapped his arms around me. He takes a deep breath and rests his chin on my shoulder.
I shudder a bit. I'm not used to this. Not even Jensen does this often. . . and yet, I let Harry do this. Maybe because there's this feeling of comfort and relief I hadn't felt in a while. Feeling home.
Before I even tell Harry to get off, he lets me go and stares at me.
"I uh--" he mumbles, obviously out of words. I should probably get mad at him but staring right at his bright and teary green eyes, I can't.
I shake my head and bite my lower lip. "You need it." I tell him. "J-Just don't mention it."
"Sorry."
"Don't mention it, Harry. You're just confused, I guess. I deal with it all the time but it's not really the same way you do." I say with a smile.
"How do you deal?" He asks, I notice his earphones again and it's been quite a time since I've observed that. . . and distracted by that.
"Say what?" I ask, I know, I'm really a good moment-ruiner.
He chuckles lightly yet that doesn't remove the tears and sparkle in his eyes. "How do you deal with those stuff?"
"Two things, ignorance and apathy." I reply. "It's really not hard to do but, it kinda haunts you."
I notice the hallway starts getting crowded. "I'll see you later, Harry." I say and walk away as quick as I can. I find Niall in my next class and for the first time in a short while, he sits next to me.
Yes, Science is a headache again. Mrs. Wades calls me up again and I've got no clue on what to answer. . . twice.
"You may now take your seat, Swift." She says and so I do it. Niall does nothing but laugh at me.
"Stop that." I snap at Niall because he's getting irritating.
"You can't stop me without getting another detention, Swift." Niall says with a laugh.
I glare at him, coming off as a warning. My head will go all-crazy if he keeps this up. I'm not that good when I'm irritated.
"You can't stop me." He says and then laughs annoyingly.
"Shut up." I warn.
I cover my ears to block out whatever he's doing and shut my eyes tight but that doesn't seem to do any good at all.
"Niall, would you--" I raise my voice and that is a one way ticket to detention. I hear Mrs. Wades telling me to go to detention.
With my awful luck, I don't get lines. Instead, I get the really awful pleasure of helping out or assisting our school DJ which means I have to do whatever she tells me that also means, I'll probably have to stay to this one might-be dirty place I've never been before. . . to be honest, I never even knew we had a school DJ.
I follow the directions I'm instructed which half sucks because I had to go through a load of faculty rooms. I'm not that comfortable around teachers, it sort of weirds me out.
I knock on the door and sure enough, I've seen dusty stacks of CD's, speakers, shelves and a lot of wires I try not to touch. What surprises me is that someone who is the DJ.
He turns around, looks at me and then his eyes go down. "Oh, hey Swift." Sam says, yes, that Sam who got kicked out of the squad weeks ago.
"Sam? What are you doing here?" I ask.
Sam kicks the floor, making his chair spin and facing the buttons and microphone again. He presses a few then face me. "Uh, part time? I mean, I had to do something."
"You mean after you--"
"Lost my scholarship. Yep, but this only covers half." He answers. "Scar is a real iron lady."
"Tell me about it." I mumble and bite my lip. "Hey, what do I have to do?"
"I dunno? Why are you here?" He asks.
"Detention."
"Oh, you?" He asks, almost in disbelief. He stands up, takes a dry rag and gives it to me. "Just the dust, you don't have to do anything else."
"Great." I mumble with sarcasm and take the rag. I start wiping through the shelves and other dusty stuff, occasionally sneezing from time to time.
I wonder how Mrs. Wades have perfected this kind of punishment. I'm missing cheer practice, there's too much dust, -actually enough to make it harder for me to breathe- and the fact that I'm hearing music all the way. . . it's much more than irritating.
I sneeze again after going through the fifth stack of CD's.
Sam laughs, "Bless you, Swift."
"How do you even get used to this?" I ask him, and then I cover my nose with my handkerchief.
"You don't." He answers. "You can't ever be used to it but that's the point, you have to endure it. I mean if your mom is sick and your dad can barely earn enough, you have to have a scholarship to continue school and, well, have another part time after school."
"And it's gone worse because Scar kicked you out?" I ask.
"More or less, yep."
"God, sorry." I say but I do know that it doesn't matter even if I say it or not.
Sam laughs. "Don't be, you didn't get me kicked out, I did it to myself. But that's another mistake the iron lady misunderstood."
I move on to a new shelf. "Yeah? What does that mean?" I ask. I get distracted by a whirring sound and I didn't hear what Sam answered. "Can you please repeat that?" I request.
"It means - I was never at that party, I was up all night at my job at the diner. Scar thought Bryan Henderson from the football team was me. You've got to admit, I have quite a resemblance with that guy." He answers.
I agree with that one. "Why didn't you tell Scar?" I ask.
Sam faces me, and chuckles, "You of all people would know that Scar won't believe me."
"Right." I say, a bit hopeless. "I'm really sorry."
"I told you, you weren't the one who kicked me out remember?" He says and then laughs.
"Yeah, but I could have done something." I say, remembering that I almost stood up for him but I backed down. I was scared too, but I think that's a mistake.
"Then, you'll be kicked out too. Standing up for that second was enough, Swift. At least someone tried." He answers and turns his back on me again. "Suggest a song, Swift." He says.
"I don't like music." I tell him.
"Look, once someone told me that people who don't like music has been through something only music can remind them." He says.
"I haven't been through---" I scoff and roll my eyes. "Stone Walls, by We The Kings."
"Strange choice." Sam replies but stands up and types something in his laptop. Then it starts playing.
"You know that song?" I ask.
"Yeah, the lyrics are somewhat remarkable. . . you know, we are all we are, don't stop burning and those stuff. Harry from one of my classes keeps writing down the lyrics. So I listened to it, it's a great song."
And here I am thinking that this day could be quiet enough from Harry.
"Do you want me to talk to Scar?" I ask him, desperately changing the subject. Besides, that was really the subject I want to talk about.
"No, no need." He answers.
"But you can't just--"
"Swift, it's okay. You don't have to."
"But--"
"Swift." Sam says with a strict glare.
"Fine." I mumble and then move on to another shelf. I sneeze again and say excuse me for the nth time.
After the song is finished, -I really didn't listen- Sam starts another conversation. "Something is strange with you, these days, Swift."
"Strange, as in?" I ask and raise an eyebrow.
"For one, you never liked talking to anyone but Cara and Louis. Yet, here you are now, actually talking." He says.
"And you mean?"
"I mean," he says and takes a deep breath. "You never ever had a decent conversation with anyone. . ."
"Wow, great how people seem to notice things I don't." I mumble sarcastically and roll my eyes.
"It's a compliment." He replies and then turns his back.
I pretend that I'm not bothered by what he said, but I am. Didn't I talk to people back then? Haven't I engaged in normal conversations? I have got no idea.
Cara approaches me as I am walking in the halls. "Where were you?" She asks the moment she knows I'm within hearing range.
When she is close enough, I walk with her and say, "Detention." I really don't want to talk about it because I feel responsible for getting Sam kicked out though I am not. It just makes my conscience ring.
"Oh I know you've got detention. I meant where detention? I mean, they didn't make you clean bathrooms didn't they?" She asks.
I scoff, "No. Just the DJ place."
"Oooh." She says, sounding excited. "They say that the DJ looks hot. Did he?"
My eyes widen, I've never thought of that. My teeth grits as I say, "Yeah, he looks like Bryan Henderson, hot for you, not for me."
"Bry-- oh Sam?!" Cara says, thank God she isn't clueless about it.
"Yeah." I mumble.
"How is he doing?"
"Worse since Scar kicked him out and we did nothing." I say and I realize my tone is getting bitter and cold.
"Hey, you know we couldn't have done something that'll change Scar's mind." She says.
I roll my eyes, "Still."
I feel guilty. I feel guilty. . . why do I feel guilty?!
Cara leads me to the parking lot and then she says, "Leo is picking you up."
"I didn't ask for it, I'd rather take a cab." I reply, frowning. My mood is getting worse by the second.
"Yeah, well, he's here. See ya." Cara says and leaves me alone. I'm glad she always does that when I am in a bad mood.
I stand for a second, a bit frozen and my mind absolutely wrecked. That is the last time I ever want to see Sam. After a few seconds, my eyes scan around the parking lot for Leo and it isn't a few minutes later when he walks right in front of me.
"What are you planning?" I ask him with an eyebrow raised.
His eyebrows meet. "Nothing. Dad told me to pick you up."
"Dad told you to pick me up?!" I ask. That doesn't sound good at all.
"Didn't I just tell you that?" He shoots back. "Now get over to my car or else, we're both dead. Can't believe your dad gets to order me around like that."
"Whatever." I mutter and roll my eyes.
The moment we find his car, he tells me to ride shotgun -which I know I will be doing. He gets in and then raises his eyebrow.
"What?" I ask, I'm not in the right mood for riddles.
"Put your seatbelt on, if you die, your dad will kill me." He orders like a total douche.
I sigh and pull the belt all over me and then tries to lock it. . . that simple thing lasted for more than a minute. Leo is already driving on the streets and I'm still trying.
"What are you, a f*cking five year-old? Even Katie can lock a seatbelt." He mumbles.
I finally let that belt go. "Screw it."
"Weak." He snickers.
I just had an idea.
"I'm not in the freaking mood, Leo." I tell him and look out the window. We're in the highway and most of the cars speed here are enough for whatever is going on in my mind.
"You're in trouble, though. You know that." He says, irritating the hell out of me.
"Just shut up." If you don't want to get your car wrecked. I glare at him.
He snickers, "You're in real deep sh*t." He says and now, I realize people keep screwing my mind up here. I get headaches easily and that sucks. He's really getting to my nerves.
"I swear to God, if you don't shut up, I'll freaking wreck your car." I warn him with the sharpest glare I've got and I'm serious.
"How?" Leo chuckles annoyingly. "Look, you even lay a finger on this car, your dad will kill you, you know that."
"I know." I reply plainly. I open his car door and crawl my way to the backseat.
"What the f--" Leo starts yelling stuff.
Cold wind rushes inside and I lean my head against the seat, calmly. Leo is screaming the hell out of his lungs, he lets go of the wheel for a second and then closes the door -a risky move. The car swerves along the highway, cars pass us, honking horns and taking turns so they don't end up hitting Leo's car.
And then Leo takes control of the wheels.
He sighs in relief. "What the f*ck were you thinking?!" He yells.
"Weak." I say to him in monotone.
"You're unbelievable." He says. "You have any idea the kind of sh*t you just pulled off?! I mean--"
My phone rings up and I hold up my hand to keep him quiet. Thankfully, he shuts up.
I see the caller, Harry.
"You alright?" He asks, he sounds worried but I'm not sure.
"From what?"
"I don't know." Harry answers.
I could have laughed if my mood wasn't this awful. "I'm okay."
He sighs, in relief? "Stay that way, alright?"
I'm not sure if I'm just imagining it but he really sounded worried earlier.
My eyes go down, I feel my eyes welling up for no reason. I stop myself, I hate crying and I don't do it anymore. . . sure as hell, I'm not gonna continue the old habit.
"Harry, just call back later, okay? I'm-- I'm a bit messed up right now. I'm okay, I swear." I say, hoping he'd trust me enough to believe what I said.
"Keep safe, love." He says calmly and comfortingly, and then he ends the call.
That's the only relief I felt the entire day.
Now, I'm just getting ready for trouble when I get home.