When Harry and I were in Junior year, we finally had one class together. Unfortunately, it was a subject I didn't like so much-- Biology.
I wasn't the brightest girl in class. I wasn't the dumbest either. I was just not that good in academics. I excelled in other things like arts, sports, and social events. On top of Drama Club, I was in the Lacrosse team too. My idea of working out was mixed martial arts and practicing at the Du Pont's firing range. But school? Like actual school where you sit in a classroom and listen to your professor lecture you about whatever subject it was that he was teaching? No. I just can't sit still and listen to someone speak for that long of a period and be expected to digest everything he just said. Taking down notes was so troublesome for me too. Yeah, I enjoy writing, just not when it's Mathematical equations or scientific names of plants.
What use are these things when we go out there in the "real world" anyway?
Nobody buys 86 watermelons at a supermarket. You go to a freaking farm for that.
Who would even ask for a mega mangifera indica smoothie at Jamba Juice? No one. You go and ask them to make you mega mango instead.
I was definitely grateful that we became classmates and lab partners for Biology. He made it a little better. For one, he kept me from sleeping in class or cutting classes. I tried skipping class once. Okay, maybe more like five times. One time, right after Ms. Tyson, our Biology professor, checked our attendance, I tried sneaking out of the door while she was busy talking about molecules or whatever it was people discussed in Biology. Before I could take my bag and leave, Harry stepped on my bag and pulled me back to my seat. Much to my dismay. The way I helped him with his acting, he helped me with school. He's to blame for why I was able to finish that dreadful class, but of course, I didn't finish Biology without messing up big time like I always do with everything else.
"Why the freaking hell are we cutting a frog open?" I complained, not caring if Ms. Tyson heard me, as Harry placed a tray in front of us both. I groaned, looking at Ms. Tyson who wasn't so happy with my reaction.
"Scared, Rockefeller?" Harry winked. I rolled my eyes almost immediately.
"Scared? Me? Scared?" I stood up from my stool and held my hand up, "Ms. Tyson, can I cut Harry's head open instead? He seems to have lost his mind. As his friend, I feel like I have to return it." I smiled as Harry pulled me back down to my seat.
"Ronnie, I was just kidding." Harry laughed.
"Oh, you were now? Ha. I'd like to see you talking the way you are now inside a haunted house." I nudged him, sticking my tongue out afterwards. His face turned pale and I couldn't help but laugh. "Who's laughing now, huh?" My laughter, however, subsided after I saw him bring out the frog out of a Coleman lunchbox.
"Okay, fair enough." I muttered under my breath as I tried my hardest not to breathe in the smell of frogs everywhere. The room started to smell slimey because of the 18 frogs that were out in the open, in a fully air-conditioned room, may I add.
"You may begin dissecting your frogs now, class." Ms. Tyson instructed us, but I barely even heard her.
"Soooo... listen, Harry. You might want to take over the reins on this one because I'm just not good at--"
Harry laughed at me as he shook his head, taking the scalpel and was about to cut the frog open when I placed a hand over my mouth and looked away. He turned to look at me, holding the scalpel that was a few centimeters from the frog's chest. "Are you alright, Ronnie?" He asked with concern.
"Uhh, yeah. Yeah, I'm good." I nodded. It was just a frog being cut open. It's not like seeing the insides of a frog is enough to make me pass out or something. I mean, come on. I kick butts for a living. Okay, maybe not for a living, but it was a hobby.
But turns out, I was wrong.
Yep, I passed out.
The second he cut the frog open, I lost consciousness and fell off my stool. I didn't even realize it until three hours later when I woke up with a massive headache at the clinic. Surprised would be an understatement when I woke up and Harry was sitting on my bed, nursing the bump on my head that I gained from my fall earlier with an ice pack.
"W-what happened?" I groggily asked. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I tried anyway because I wanted to know and see what was going on. I wasn't expecting to see him there, by my side, when he was supposed to be in class. And mostly, I wasn't expecting the reaction I got from him after I woke up. He let out a sigh of relief, placed the ice pack on the tray by the bedside, and hugged me.
Yep, he hugged me.
In bed.
And I didn't like hugs. I hate hugs.
I could feel the rush of heat to my cheeks caused by the sudden contact. He pulled away from me a second or two later with a huge smile on his face, while I just laid there with wide eyes, that were staring right back into his, and most definitely with flushed cheeks.
"I-- uh." I couldn't speak. What the hell just happened?
He probably realized how awkward the situation was after my response so he ran a hand through his hair and proceeded to laughing it off.
"For an actor, you have a pretty fake laugh." I criticized him jokingly. Maybe this will bring us back to normal.
"Maybe, but for someone who loves zombies and all that gore-y stuff, you're pretty weak. That was just a bloody frog, Ronnie." He chuckled more naturally this time.
I gasped, "how dare you, Styles? How dare you?" I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms. "I never liked slimey whatevers. Frogs, especially. More when they're freaking open!" I spat out. He just continued laughing, thinking I wasn't being serious. "Don't make fun of me." I frowned, pouting my lips subconsciously.
"Ronnie!!!" He shouted as he stood up, making me jump a little.
"What?"
"Stop doing the puppy eye look." He furrowed his eyebrows.
"What's wrong with my puppy eye look?"
"You're too cute." He mumbled, almost inaudibly, but not inaudible enough for me to not hear what he said.
And there it was again.
My cheeks at that time could probably replace Rudolph's nose because of how red they were. Why do I keep on blushing? Geez. Did I hit my head that hard? Really?
"What did you say?" I asked on reflex as I sat up slowly.
"You're making me feel bad."
I laughed it off, pulling him by the shoulder so he was sitting on my bed again before I proceeded to messing his hair.
"I hate it when you do that." He groaned.
"Really? Then do something about it." I stuck my tongue out at him and a mischievous smile played on his lips. I knew what he was going to do next. He does this all the freaking time. And in public too. Ever since he found out where I was most ticklish, he has been poking me there whenever we joke around. I can't count the times he almost fell off his chair laughing at my reaction whenever he tickled me.
He wasn't going to win this time though. He tried tickling me, but before he could poke me on the side, I had already jumped out of bed.
"Hey! Who said you could leave the bed?" He laughed as he chased after me.
"Who said I'm out of the bed?" I jumped on one of the other beds in the clinic before he could catch me in his arms. He had a playful smile on his face when he shook his head and followed my lead. I squealed as I jumped on another bed. I was so getting myself in trouble when the nurse comes back.
When I jumped off the bed once more, I landed my feet on the ground, only to realize that I was getting dizzy. Before I could even sit down, I already slipped a second later. I closed my eyes as I waited for my body to collide with the floor, but my body collided with something else.
Or in this case, someone.
I didn't have to see to know who it was. It was only then that it dawned to me just how much I knew Harry. He had that distinct smell, and it wasn't bad at all, it was the opposite. The way he smelled was comforting too, like coming back home to your hometown or remembering a good childhood memory you didn't think was still in the back of your head.
I wasn't exactly the kind of girl who feared things. I don't even fear death. But that moment-- that moment when our bodies collided-- I got scared. I got scared to open my eyes and see his face. I was scared to see that smile and those dimples. But mostly, I got scared to see his eyes looking right into mine, doing what it does best, speaking to me in another language that I was pretty sure only we understood.
But of course, I can't remain there, lying on top of him the entire time so eventually I had to open my eyes. And as expected, he was looking right into my eyes. I couldn't move a muscle. It didn't help that his cheeks were flushed too.
"Just sit down, will you?" Harry scoffed while he helped me get up and lay back on the bed assigned to me inside the clinic. He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked away from the bed, his back was turned against me.
"Thank you, Haz."
"For what?" He stopped in his tracks and faced me.
"For taking care of me," I pursed my lips and avoided his glance. "You're on scholarship and yet you missed class just to accompany me here."
A huge smile crept on his face as he spoke, "Eh, it's the least I could do for helping me out with my American accent. Plus, that's what partners are for right?"
"I suppose," I shrugged, returning the smile. My eyes widened upon realizing something I almost forgot. "It's your birthday tomorrow! It's your 18th birthday tomorrow, Haz! Oh my gosh. What are we going to do? I can throw you a party! Oh my gosh. It's going to be amazing! I got you covered, curly tops. You don't have to worry about anything. DJ, location, food, drinks," I winked at him, "I got you covered. This is so exciting!" I squealed, sitting up from the bed.
Harry ran to my side with a worried look on his face and forced me to lie down. "Geez, Ronnie. Just stay put!"
I rolled my eyes at him, "you're changing the subject, Mister."
"Your parties are fun, don't get me wrong. But I don't think we can make this happen. I don't exactly plan on spending my first night as an 18 year old behind bars for underage drinking." He chuckled.
"Okay, okay. So maybe I do have a reputation for throwing parties that you wouldn't expect a 17 year old girl could and would organize but hey, at least they are fun." I defended myself, crossing my arms. "What did you think are the perks of living in a humongous house in Long Island that is like two blocks away from your neighbor? We never worry about noise in the neighborhood because neighbors are too far away or they're always on a business trip. What does that mean? No police."
"Yeah, okay but--"
"No buts, curly tops." I poked him on the nose. "It's your 18th birthday, for crying out loud."
"I have work." He mumbled.
"Is that your lame attempt at getting rid of me? If it is, then it's not working."
"No, I really have work tomorrow."
"Can't you call for a day off?" I begged him.
He sat next to me and gave me a small smile. "Maybe next time, Ronnie. Thanks for trying though."
"Fine." I pouted.
Of course it wasn't fine with me. I wasn't going to let his 18th birthday be spent at the pizzeria no matter how awesome it is to work around pizza. The next day, I called up Harry to ask if he's sure that he really can't hang out.
"Sorry, Ronnie. I'll be sure to give you an extra slice of pizza the next time you visit Carlo's Pizza."
"Okay then. I'll see you when I see you. Cheerio, as the Brits would say!" I said.
"You sound mad." He sighed, sounding a bit hesitant to hang up the phone on me.
"Harry, if I was mad, you'd know." I laughed. He'd so know alright. On top of a reputation for partying harder than everyone, I also have a reputation for getting into fights and not having much of a filter. Honesty is the only policy to me. "Go back to work, curly tops. Wouldn't want to hold you back from your responsibilities."
"Ronnieeeee."
"Bye, curly tops!" I laughed as I hung up the phone.
Now, to get my plans running.
"Hello, is this Carlo's Pizza?"
****
Hello, loves! Finally updated this little thing. I will update again some time during the week, most likely before Friday because I don't want to make you wait too long for the next chapters because this is it guys-- the start of the fun stuff. Hahaha.
You know the drill. Keep those comments coming, vote, and share! If you haven't added this to your library, do it now. Don't forget to tweet us your thoughts @1DMetro and use the hashtag #1DMUTSS.
Much love :-*
-Kendall