I set an alarm for half an hour earlier than usual, as Harry was picking me up at a time earlier than I would typically leave. I'd always been somewhat of a morning person - I didn't mind being up early when I had a real reason to be, and I felt like getting coffee with Harry would definitely suffice.
I'd barely slept - I felt like a child on Christmas Eve, and I wasn't entirely sure why. I'd met Harry only a couple of days ago, and I wouldn't have even dared to say that I liked him - yet I was practically losing myself in the idea of him wanting to get a coffee with me. This was so foreign - this idea of somebody actually wanting to spend time with me, and only me. I figured it was that, in itself, which was driving me to act so out of character. This sort of attention was something I'd never received, and all he'd done was call me and ask to pick me up before school.
It was 7:28 when I heard the quiet roar of an engine outside of my house, and I smoothed my hands over the floral dress I was wearing, suddenly concerned with whether it was too short, when I wore dresses of the very same style all the time. I slipped on my coat and pulled my bag over my shoulder, heading over to my window to glance out of it.
A white Mercedes was parked up on the curb directly outside my house, and it was in that moment I realised I hadn't even given him my address - but I'd question him on it later, as my eyes landed on him leaning against the side of the car. His back was pressed to the drivers' side door, his leg bent at the knee and his arms folded. He was wearing black skinny jeans and a black loose-fitting t-shirt, sunglasses covering his eyes as he waited. Waited for me.
My dad left for work before seven most days, and my mum would always get up when he did, regardless. When I made my way downstairs, she was seated at the kitchen table with a mug in her hand.
"Oh, hello, Blair - are you alright? You're ready early," she asked, genuinely puzzled. Her face was made up, as it always was, and I could smell her expensive perfume practically radiating from her white blouse.
"Yeah, I'm getting a ride from my friend today," I explained, and she nodded.
"Are you hungry?"
"No, I'm good - thank you, though," I smiled at her, "he's waiting outside, actually. I'll see you tonight."
"Have a good day, sweetheart," she returned, as I headed for the door. I was grateful for her - I really was. She had her moments, but I was extremely fortunate with the parents I had - my mother was one of the most understanding, trusting women I'd ever come to know. She respected my privacy and trusted me to do my own thing without requiring her or my father's interference, and I loved that. I treasured that freedom.
I closed the front door behind me, stepping off the porch and towards where Harry's car was parked. His head turned towards me when I was only a few feet away, his hand raising to push his sunglasses back into his hair.
"Hello, pretty," his lips twitched into a grin, his eyes scanning me as I walked toward him. A shy flush fought its way onto my face, and I looked away briefly in hopes to stifle it. He pushed himself away from the car, moving over to the other side of the car to open the door, holding it open for me.
"Hi," I replied sheepishly, "cool car," I added, thanking him and getting into the car. Harry's car smelt like he did; like the cologne I'd smelt when he'd caught me in my moment of weakness on the street on Sunday. Just the silent recollection of such an action brought a shiver up my spine, and I chewed on my lip.
"So," he looked over at me, sticking the key into the ignition and turning it. He paused then, resting his forearms against the steering wheel. A boyish grin tugged on his lips, "How are you?"
I laughed quietly, "I'm good. How are you? S'awfully early for someone who doesn't have to go to school," I pointed out.
"Mm," he hummed, tearing his eyes from me to watch the road ahead of him and start driving. "It's called making an effort, Miss Blair."
"You sound much older than you are when you call me that," I raised an eyebrow at him, grabbing my seatbelt and reaching over to click it into its holder. I glanced over my shoulder when I did so, noticing that Harry's duffle bag, which I'd seen before, was in the corner of the backseat. I wondered what he even carried in there, but also figured it wasn't my business to ask.
"Oh yeah?" his response came back wittily, and it was only then I noticed that he was chewing gum again. "Respect your elders then, why don't you?"
"I've never treated you with anything less, Mr. Styles," I remarked, leaning back into the comfortable black leather seat. Considering the way Harry was an undeniably, yet unexplainably intimidating character - at least in my eyes - he was very easy to talk to. In fact, it just came naturally in the situation.
"And you wouldn't dream of it, would you?" he teased, his sunglasses shielding his eyes again now. My eyes shifted sideways to look at him, and I shook my head, rolling my own eyes. "Saw that," he said suddenly, and I laughed quietly, looking away.
I'd expected Harry to park outside the diner - since that was quite simply one of the only places my friends and I would go - but he took a left, rather than the typical right.
"Where are we going?" I asked him, as he drove maybe twenty or so more metres and parked in the against the curb of the main street.
"The coffeehouse," he said as if it were obvious, "where else do you expect to get decent coffee?" I'd never been to the coffeehouse in town - rather, it was where my dad picked up his daily coffee before work, and where most of the parents spent their time socialising.
I got out of the car before he could open the door for me this time, my bag on my shoulder once again. The sun had properly risen now, and despite such, the cool air was beginning to pick up. I blew out a breath, as Harry locked his car. I glanced back at the vehicle, admiring it for a second as Harry caught my eye.
"So it's not just me you stare at? I feel a whole lot less special all of a sudden," Harry mockingly pouted in my direction, and I scoffed jokingly.
"Shut up," I spun on my heel to walk ahead of him, rather than wait, but his tall frame enabled him to catch up with me quickly and easily.
Harry curved around me to push open the long glass door to the coffeehouse, signalling for me to enter ahead of him. I wondered if he was purposely acting in such a way, or if it was his instinct - if it was what he naturally did; acted gentlemanly simply because it was what he instinctively sought to do.
It was more or less empty inside - only one table occupied by an old man clasping a newspaper in the corner, a steaming mug beside him. The scent of coffee filled my nostrils in an instant, the whirring of coffee machines the only sound to be heard.
"What're you having?" Harry's voice cut smoothly through the sound, and I glanced up at the menu nailed to the wall on a chalkboard.
"Um.." I pondered for a moment, "I'm gonna get a macchiato and a muffin, I think.." I reached for my purse in my bag, feeling a large palm curl around my wrist, halting my actions.
"I've got it," he argued softly, and I frowned.
"Don't be silly-"
"Silly how, love? I asked you out and I'm paying. It's a few quid."
"So? I can pay for myself," I stood my ground, reaching for my purse again and feeling his hand gently grip my wrist again.
"I'm fully aware, but I'd like to pay. And I'd like it if you let me," he tilted his head slightly to the side, and I sighed.
"Will it feed your ego if I do?" I tilted my own head to match his.
"So greatly." He scanned my face, his own only inches from it as his lips broke into a grin and he headed triumphantly towards the counter and ordered our food and drinks. I shook my head, sighing to myself with a small smile on my face, the triumphant grin on his face surely cementing itself in my mind.
Our drinks were poured into takeaway cups, and I half-expected Harry to lead us back to the car, but instead he handed me my cup and brown paper bag and nodded towards a table and took a seat in one of the chairs. I sat down opposite him, setting my cup down.
"We have another half an hour or so before I need to drive you into school," he declared, resting his chin in his hand, "half an hour to tell me all about you."
"I thought the point of this was to learn about each other," I raised my eyebrows, and he shrugged.
"Fair enough - I'll knock your time down to twenty-five and give myself a few minutes for a monologue of my own," he compromised, "now enlighten me."
I bit back a smile, resting my own chin in my hand and allowing our eyes to connect. "How did you find my address?" I asked, rather than obliging.
"Oh, it's my turn?" he sent me a playful smile, "I asked your friend, Zayn. He's nice. Why aren't you dating him?"
My eyes widened, and I had to refrain from choking on my coffee, "Zayn? He's like a brother."
"Eh, whatever you say," Harry shrugged, "I'd date him."
My eyebrows raised, "Then why don't you?"
"Not my type," Harry said as if it were obvious.
"Then what is?" I found myself asking.
"It would be much easier to describe their interests if I knew them. Which is why I need you to start talking. We're on a time limit, you know." He watched me as he spoke, a prominent glint in his eye as I silently begged my face not to flush with colour. Was he interested in me? Really, truly interested in me?
I wasn't a particularly stressed person, but in that brief thirty minutes with Harry, I felt the most relaxed I had in a long time. I found myself telling him.. everything - about my childhood, about me; my likes and dislikes. I couldn't believe the ease I was finding in more or less opening myself up to him entirely - and there wasn't a moment of silence; each declaration I made was responded to with one of his own, and he seemed to tell me about himself with an equal amount of ease. And that was so.. reassuring. So comforting to know that somebody else remained an open book in front of you, as you mirrored their actions. It was a feeling I liked - meeting someone, wiping the slate clean and painting it in whichever way I saw fit.
I'd noticed in the car, that Harry didn't only have the singular tattoo I'd noticed - but rather, I'd noticed two more peeking out of the top of his t-shirt, and at least a dozen intricate inkings coating his arms. Each time he moved them, I had to stop myself from staring at them in pure, shameless awe, wondering if it'd be strange to ask him about them.
"I hate to admit it," his voice interrupted my thoughts, and I forced my eyes back onto his face, "but if you don't want to be late for your first day back at school, then we really should be going, now."
I pursed my lips, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Harry's head, "You're right."
"C'mon," he nodded his head slightly to the side, grabbing our trash and putting it in the bin. I stood up, slipping my bag back onto my shoulder, as the two of us made our way back to his car.
A part of me didn't want to get out of the car when he pulled into the school car park, though I knew I had to. It wasn't like it was the last time I'd see him, but I felt in such a state of euphoria throughout our time together that I simply didn't want it to end.
"'Can pick you up after school, if you'd fancy it," he offered, much to my surprise, almost as if he'd been having the same thought I had. I let my eyes meet his for a moment, my lips twisting into a small smile.
"I would," I nodded, "yeah. I'd like that."
"Alright - what time do you finish?"
"Three."
"I'll be waiting," he returned, his forearms resting on the steering wheel.
I opened my door, stepping out of the car as Harry rolled my window down, and I closed the door. I leant in through the window, sending him a 'thank you' through my grin.
He sped away, and I headed towards the entrance of school, a frown immediately overtaking my face. This was odd.
It was just before 8:30, and the entrance was more or less packed around this time every day - but today it was empty. You could've heard a pin drop.
"Blair, oh my god!" Vic hurried towards me, springing seemingly from out of nowhere and engulfing me in a hug, "where have you been? I waited for you where you get off the bus and you didn't show-"
"Hey," I laughed, my euphoric state still prominent. I just felt so happy, the smile wouldn't leave my face even now. "I got a ride from Harry - what's wrong?" I asked her, confused at the clear alarm in her tone.
"I thought something happened to you - school is cancelled today.. I figured you might not have heard, so I waited here for you. Liz and Liam are at Zayn's - we can head over there now, and you can call your parents from there, but I've asked Zayn to pick us up because I am not walking right now.." she rambled, and I watched her, my eyes widening.
"Can you explain what's going on?" I asked, extremely puzzled at this point, "I'm not following.."
"You really haven't heard?" she asked, and I was certain I'd never seen her so shaken up.
"No..?"
"They found a body," she swallowed, "one of the guys from History class.. Finn Morrison."
"What?" I asked, my mouth falling open, "you're kidding. He-"
"Blair," she almost whimpered, "they think he was murdered."