so overdue! SORRRRYYYY. i had to study for my driver's permit (i passed the written test!) and i also had no inspiration whatsoever ): sorry i made time fly by so much but it's difficult to write when all they do is go to school. but like i want to be realistic unlike other stories where they never attend class. ahh sorry ):
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Danielle's POV:
"So, I don't get it. You have feelings for her and you just pushed her into the arms of the guy that is potentially dangerous. Not to mention that he hates you and vice versa. Yet you're perfectly calm and not angry at all. Come again?" Dylan shakes his head in marvel at Tyler as he chuckles, shrugging.
"Don't you remember Allison? And, what happened?" Dylan raises an eyebrow, seeming so skeptical of everything. Eleanor went to talk to Louis about that dinner where he will meet her parents, leaving me alone with the two boys.
"Yeah. But, Allison wasn't happy with Harry, and Selena is. I'm not going to be the one to tear her away from who she cares about," he confesses.
"That's exactly what Harry did to her and you," he points out.
"That's just it. I don't want to be like Harry."
A smile tugs on my face, hearing Tyler's words. He's truly an amazing person who I completely feel grateful for being able to call him my friend.
"They're not that bad, Dy. Remember the plan we all got together for? It was weird but cool. For a moment, there was no division or rivalry between us," Tyler explains as I unconsciously glance towards the table next to us, now filled with the five boys and Sel and El. Liam catches my small stare and shoots me a small grin, making me blush a little and look away.
I remember Selena's words when we went shopping and her suggestion of Liam liking me. He definitely seems the nicest of all of them in my opinion and although I promised myself to never be involved, I suddenly find myself aware of the smallest little things about him. A shared laugh fills the air and Liam's smile softens any hard thoughts I had for him; the way the crinkles reach his eyes and the genuine glee is evident in his face.
It's beautiful.
"Just date him already," Dylan rolls his eyes, a bit annoyed how we all seem to be growing affections for supposedly feared people. I look down, slight guilt rising within but Tyler's soft hand suddenly on top of mine reassures me feelings aren't something to be ashamed of. Looking back up, I notice Liam's lingering gaze on me, a smile directed just for me. And God, something about it makes my lips involuntarily twitch upward.
Selena's POV:
After the bell rings, we each part our ways towards our specific class; even though I had Spanish next, Harry latches onto my arm, his face nuzzling into the crook of my back, reluctant to let go.
"You have to go to class," I attempt to pry the overly-attached boy off but he shakes his head persistently.
"What are you going to do?" I stare at him, shaking my head in disbelief at this crazy kid.
"I'm going to sit next to you," he shrugs like it's nothing weird.
"This isn't your class, Harry," I roll my eyes, trying to emphasize how immature he can sometimes be.
"You're funny. You think that if I don't come in here with you, I'd actually go to my class. Sweetheart, we both know I wouldn't even be at school if it weren't for you," he leans toward my ear, whispering and chuckling in a low voice and sending an instinctual chill up my spine.
"Whatever," I mutter, unable to come up with a better response as we both settle in what is supposed to be my seat. Niall is there smiling until he notices Harry's presence closely beside me and his face scrunches up in confusion.
"Hi mate," Harry grins and I hate to admit that it's a bit adorable and the sudden light mood he has is strangely refreshing and enjoyable.
"Hey?" Niall greets back, still unsure of what's happening but deciding to just go with it.
"No ingles en mi clase, señor Horan," Professor Rubio lightly slaps Niall's arm before making her way to the front of the room to greet us in our daily lesson. Before she is able to continue though, she raises an eyebrow at the stranger beside me.
"¿Y quien eres tu?¿Por que estás en mi clase?" she looks expectantly at the dark boy who shrugs.
"I failed Spanish three times so I wouldn't know," he casually replies as everyone holds in laughs; it is a funny response but the fear of Harry's persona still lingers amongst our peers. I gently hit my forehead as a light apricot blush appears on my cheek. He is so embarrassing.
After groaning at the lack of knowledge of her natural tongue, Ms. Rubio snaps her fingers and simply gives up on trying to remove him from our class. She quickly scrawls new grammar tactics on the board as I clumsily pull out my notebook, attemping to jot everything down though it proves difficult with Harry's warm hand resting on my leg.
When the bell rings, he slowly drags his handa cross my thigh before pulling it off, cheeky grin on full display as I falsely glare at him before returning my stationary back to my army green bag.
"You suck," I frown as he intertwins our hands, ready to take me to psychology class with him.
"Nah, I'm pretty sure that's your job," he winks as my jaw drops at his sick mind.
"You're disgusting," I plainly state before entering Mr. Sharman's room. His blue eyes lighten up at the sight of us entering and I smile back at his greeting. Despite Harry being a serious asshole, he seems to be really tolerant of his behavior. I appreciate his patience and understanding personality; he's probably one of my favorite teachers.
As the rest of our class settles in and Harry is done glaring at him, Mr. Sharman closes the door and just sits on his desk with a smile on his face.
"Selena, how are you feeling?" he directs everyone's attention to me as I slightly freeze, not expecting him to focus on me in particular.
"I'm...okay," I carefully select my words, unsure how he wanted me to answer.
"Would you say you're...anxious?" he shrugs as I shake my head, "Not in this exact moment, no."
"What about now?" I'm about to ask him what differentiates this second and the one before but my thoughts are cut off by his feet landing gracefully on my desk, his tall stature looming over me. He smiles down at me as I nervously glance back up, mostly afraid of him falling off the wobbly narrow piece of wood. Harry's sudden balled up fists doesn't help.
"Yes, I'm pretty anxious now," I admit as he laughs and claps his hands in glee, jumping off and returning to the board.
"That prick better never pull that stunt again," he grunts as he crosses his arms. I roll my eyes at the over-protective boy who keeps trying to shelter me from any male possible with the exception of himself.
When I glance toward the front of the class again, I notice a long list of facts about anxiety--the definition, effects, disorders linked to it, and so on. Mr. Sharman caps his pen and adjust the royal blue tie around his crisp baby-blue pin-stripe shirt before strolling down the gaps between our desks, handing each person a flat balloon.
"Sighing is often a body language that reveals someone is stressed, tired, or anxious," he explains, "So, I want you to pick up your balloon, blow out all your anxieties, and then grip it tight near the opening to show you're done. Make sure none of the air comes out."
Harry's POV:
This is so stupid.
Mr. Sharman is so stupid. I hate him. I hate his class.
"I'm not doing this. It's ridiculous," I huff, leaving my balloon untouched.
"Just do it," Selena shakes her head at me but I don't budge. She rolls her eyes in annoyance and shifts away, causing a frown to automatically form. When she begins to follow the activity, I sigh heavily wondering why I even bother as I begin to fill my balloon up too.
Selena's POV:
I pick up my light green ballon and exhale as much as possible, filling it with the most air I can muster. Looking around, most people have already pulled apart and are holding onto the small opening. Harry's balloon is practically full before he pulls apart, but I keep going. I realize everyone in class is done, leaving me the only person, which makes me more anxious; therefore, I continue adding air. Much to my surprise and shock of the whole class, the loud popping sound startles everyone. I stare at the shreds of my green balloon, littering the ground surrounding my seat. A scarlet blush rushes to my face as I bite my lip in embarrassment.
"You must have a lot of nerves, Gomez," Mr. Sharman comments as I just sit there, speechless. I notice Harry's eyes widen as he curiously studies my expression, scanning me up and down.
"How do you feel?" my teacher questions as I notice his balloon is almost non-existent.
"Great, my anxieties just spilled everywhere," I sarcastically retort as he chuckles.
"When one has too much, they explode. Which is bad, very bad. Sometimes, you need to just release your fingers at times and let out some stress," he instructs as people around me slowly let go.
"And that's all we have time for! Don't forget to slowly work on your essays kids and see you tomorrow," he waves us out as we file in a line out the door.
"What essay?" Harry questions me as I shake my head.
"You ditched class that day," I explain as he seems unfazed. He really does not care about school.
"We have to write an essay about someone in the class and describe how they appear to and in society and explain why they are that way without using names. If he can pinpoint who we are talking about and it has scientific citations along with realistic analysis, he'll give us an A," I explain.
"So, can I write about--" I cut him off, placing my hands on my ears.
"You're not supposed to tell me who! We're not sharing who otherwise that defeats the point and makes the other person feel awkward," I huff in frustration.
"I'm not going to do it if you won't listen to my ideas and help me," he teases but I brush him off.
"It's worth like half your grade, Harry," I frown but he again shrugs.
"I've failed senior year once already. It's not a big deal," he follows me outside towards the entrance of the school. The oak tree sitting there billows with the light wind in the air, making the environment very soothing. It provides a slight shade and shields us away from the mass of people making their way to beat traffic and head home.
"Of course you did," I groan, unable to hold back my distaste at his overly lax attitude towards important manners.
"What's a big deal to me, is us," he intertwines our hands as I tilt my head towards him.
"What about us?" he smiles all knowingly in mischief as I'm confused as ever.
Eleanor's POV:
"So, this is...Louis?" my mum skeptically skims him over as he trembles slightly by my side. This is the moment of the week we've been waiting for. Louis was very jittery for the whole five days until this event; even Harry has been calmer.
Ever since Selena and Harry have admitted that they care for each other a little, the two have been inseparable. Though, even if Selena doesn't like it, she has no choice with Harry's persistent hold onto her. He's always taking her out and spending time with her though nothing has exactly been official. Harry strictly stated that he's not looking for a relationship; honestly, Selena confessed to me over the phone that it hurt a little but she's willing to set it aside considering that she doesn't want to grow too attached to him in fears of being hurt. He has tried to kiss her a few times but she refuses, only letting him peck her on the cheek occasionally when she's not on guard.
"Uh, yes. That's me," he extends a hand and the two exchange a small gesture though it's clear Lou's nervous. The greeting snaps me out of my thoughts as I tug on him, trying to reassure him with my warm touch on his slightly cold skin.
"So, how do you know Eleanor?" she raises an eyebrow at him as he clears his throat.
"Well, I saw her at school and I had the hugest crush on her for a while now though I sort of denied it and didn't think too seriously of it since she had Dylan but I still wanted her and I guess since I know her pretty well now, it just worked. I think your daughter's really amazing. She's beautiful like you and charming and funny and sweet and--" my mum begins to laugh, placing a hand over her mouth politely.
"Oh, dear. Calm down," she places her hand over his again, this time gingerly and with tender care.
"I can tell you'll take care of El," she grins before leading the two of us to the dinner table. So far, Louis meeting my parents has been wonderful; my dad shares a common taste in music and sports, making all of us very well acquainted with each other. Happily, I link our arms together, pulling him closer to me. Louis gelled his hair and covered his tattoos with a fine blazer, appearing spiffier than usual but still absolutely breath-taking. His blue eyes sparkle with each honest opinion he offered about himself and I can't help admiring the way my parents are so automatically fond of him. With Dylan, my parents were accepting since he's the friendly kid down the block. However, with Louis, it seems they are even impressed.
"I was hoping to ask her to be my girlfriend...with your permission?" Louis questions with hope brimming his voice as my head turns to glance at him. He bites his lip as he studies their reaction to his words.
"Sure, just share her with us too, okay?" they nudge him encouragingly as he lets out a deep breath I know he's been holding since I told him about my family-orientated self.
"Thank God," he exhales as my whole family laughs, rejoicing in this beautiful moment.
Liam's POV:
Ask her out, Li.
Ask. Her. Out.
Walking up to Danielle's locker with a bouquet of assorted flowers, I panic and turn back towards Selena's.
"I can't," I shove the flowers back into her arms, an action parallel to earlier times, except Harry nearly beat the shit out of me that time.
"You can," she equally harshly shoves the bouquet back at my chest.
"What if she says no?" my eyes dart between Selena and Danielle who seems to be coming out of a weekend-assigned dance practice.
"She's not going to say no. You came, to school, on your own free will on a weekend, just to see her. Clearly, you care about her. And, you even brought flowers. Let's not forget, you're sweet, kind, considerate, hilarious, thoughtful--" she continues to list but Harry clears his throat loudly from behind us.
"That's enough, Selena," he frowns, a few wrinkles on his forehead as he appears frustrated at the amount of compliments from her to me.
"Anyway, my point is...why would she say no?" Selena shrugs.
"Because, she's way out of my league. She's gorgeous and graceful and a much better person than me. I can't compete," I sigh heavily as a hug from behind causes me to jump a little at the sudden touch.
"That was really sweet of you," someone muffles into the back of my shirt and when I turn around, still clutching the flowers, I notice Danielle beaming.
"See?" Selena smirks as Harry groans loudly.
"Okay, yeah you guys are together now. Go Liam! Now, can we go?" Harry sarcastically cheers in irritation before he yanks on Selena's wrist as she playfully slaps him.
"Just because you never plan on asking a girl out doesn't mean you can ruin other people's moments, you bitter slug," she shakes her head in disapproval as he nonetheless drags her away, letting her farewell echo into the hallways before they leave just the two of us in the hallway.
"So...you'd really want to go out with me?"
She seems to be internally debating with herself and I begin to panic that her kind gesture was only for display when Selena's around, but finally, she leans on her tiptoes and pecks me on the lips quickly.
"Hope that's the answer you're looking for," she softly beams as I sigh in so much relief.
Harry's POV:
"Bitter slug?" I nudge her as she giggles, so beautifully I wish I can possibly write down the sound in my journal.
"I'm not good at comebacks," she admits with a small pout I find irresistably adorable. As I lean in to kiss it away, she swats my cheek away.
"Ow!" I jokingly rub my cheek that practically felt no effect whatsoever; I just pretend for the sake of her amusement, allowing her to laugh loudly.
"Remind me why I can't kiss you again?" I reach for her hand as we begin to mindlessly meander towards a local park. Her touch is an addiction I will never lose the craving to.
"Because, we're not dating," she points out as I feel completely clueless.
"Why does that matter?"
"I don't want to just be kissing some random boy," she exclaims and I can't help the smile that tugs on my lips at her enthusiasm in her answers. What the hell is happening to me?
"I'm just some random boy?"
"Even worse, a random bad boy," she dramatically replies.
"Hey, you should be proud to be making out with me," I tease as I let go her fingers reluctantly to show her my muscles, flexing here and there.
"Wow," she plays along, feigning no interest though I know she's secretly checking out my tattoed bicep.
"You can't fool me," I drop my arms and reach for her fingers once more. As we continue joking around, a park bench comes into view and I know she's tired by the way she's starting to drag her steps and her sleepy face that I've come accustomed to. In the past week, I've been over to her house more as she claims that she's been away from home too long. When her mum returned, I would remain hidden outside the window and sneak back in when she leaves.
Despite Selena's lack of desire to have me around, I don't care. Every night, some way or another, I'd end up resting with her by my side, my arm tightly wrapped around her petite waist as her face is buried in my bare chest. I know she won't admit it to my face, but I'm sure she enjoys my company as much as I value hers. The nightmares I've had for a good portion of my lifetime vanished as if they were never present and it is an amazing relief.
When we reach the wooden resting area, Selena cheers though it sounds more like mumbles into my arm before detaching herself from me and rushing to get a seat. I follow her again, like I have been for the past few days, like a little puppy. Sitting down, I gesture for her to lie down on my lap and she's too tired to argue. Her beautiful hazelnut hair sprawls across my thighs as her eyes flutter shut, her chest heaving up and down peacefully and gracefully.
I stroke her face and she smiles at my touch. My heart beats faster at the smallest gesture and I wonder seriously what happened to me. It's weird but I can't help wanting to feel it more.
Gently trying not to disrupt her rest, I move my hips a little bit up to remove my journal from the back pocket of my jeans as I take out the pen that is jammed in between two pages, opening to another clean one, jotting down my latest thoughts.
"And I understand. I understand why people hold hands: I'd always thought it was about possessiveness, saying 'This is mine'. But it's about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about I want you with me and don't go.
My hand can't keep up with the beat of my heart when I look at her.
I am writing this with the utmost frustration.
What is this?
I hate new things. I hate changes and new territory to cover. I like familiarity and the power I have knowing everything. This. This, I have no control and honestly it's freaking the hell out of me.
What is love?
Is this love? Does it count...or no?
Oh fuck titles and labels.
So be it, let's Love."