4. Style The Great F

Dan's P.O.V.

I had to change two of my Accounting majors since I'm not sure I will be able to really focus on difficult subjects now. So I figure changing complex subjects to simpler ones is the best decision right now. I replaced them with Physical Education and World Literature instead. But even if they are a lot easier, I'm already two weeks late in the syllabus so I have to make up for it. I scoot toward the hallway of the Arts and Sciences Building, going straight to my new locker. Someone to my right just opens his and he surely is making too much noise. I turn to find a blonde boy, probably four or five inches taller than me since I'm only five foot five. His blond hair is sticking up his head. His barely contained grin in the corner of his lips keeps tugging and seems infectious as he dances to the beat of the music thudding in his earphones. He looks like he's someone who crashes a party every weekend and dozes to sleep wherever the influence of alcohol hits him. He turns to me, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his smile widens.

"Hey, I've never seen you around this floor before." He keeps swaying to whatever music he's listening to and I don't know if I find it amusing or rather unsettling.

"Yeah, I switched subjects a little too late." I respond, putting some of my belongings to the locker and leaving my Literature book and my notepad in my little backpack.

"I just figured you're new. Girls here don't use backpacks anymore." And he laughs. It isn't a ridiculing laugh. It's just an innocent laugh like he really does find it funny without meaning anything bad behind it. "And I sure know no girls around here wear that type of clothes."

"Okay?" I huff, arching a brow at him now. That's where people get really annoying.

"Easy, easy, I didn't mean it the bad way." He suddenly says, lightly laughing and shaking his head at the same time. He offers a hand. "By the way, I'm Niall."

Shaking hands with this man who has just ridiculed me right off the bat isn't exactly appealing right now but I'm not going to make a big deal out of it. After all, this is technically my first day in this building. I wouldn't want to make unnecessary enemies. So I take it and we shake hands. "I'm Dan."

He crosses his brows like I've just dropped a confusing knock-knock joke. "You have a very boyish name."

I shrug. "Maybe because... I'm boyish?"

His mouth slightly gapes but he recovers after a few seconds. "So I figured."

"Yeah." I just say.

He doesn't do a follow up anymore. He just nods. "My next class is World Lit. You?"

I can't hide my surprise. "Me too."

"Cool." He laughs. "Let's go."

We thread the hallway and enter the class half-filled with chattering girls in sexy tops and tight skirts and noisy guys standing in front of the class, littering the board with words I have no intention of even divulging here. We take the seats at the back. He puts his bag on the chair to his right as if he were saving it for someone.

"You waiting for someone?" I ask him, pointing to the seat next to him.

"Yup, my best friend." He answers simply, pulling his notepad from his bag as he shuffles through his phone. Someone is good in multitasking.

I pull my own phone from my pocket, checking for any new messages from Lindsey, the nanny that Liam has assigned to watch over Joe. There's none and surely nothing also has come from Joana. I tried to call her several times last night but she never picked up. I've been trying to push our wrecked relationship to the back of my mind since Joe's accident but the anxiety over it just keeps resurfacing each time I'm away from Joe. It's like a recurring illness, like colds and flu that vanish in the morning but kicks in again at night when you think you're finally back to normal.

The professor has finally arrived after a few minutes. Niall's best friend seems to be running late. I ignore the thought and leap through the pages of the book when I've heard the scratchy noise metal makes when it's being skidded against the floor. I figure that's the chair next to Niall that's being pulled to be occupied by his not so early best friend.

"Hey man, where you've been? You're twenty minutes late." Niall says, sounding thoughtful.

I continue to scan through the story the professor has told us to make a short summary of, ignoring the rush of words from Niall directed at his best friend.

"Don't worry about it, Niall. I got it all covered up."

My head c***s slightly at that horribly familiar voice. I know that. I've heard it not so long ago. When? Not entirely sure. But I can swear right at this moment I might have heard that rough, accented voice the last few days. I just can't point my finger on when it was exactly. I don't know but something inside me tells me it's not even a good idea to really figure it out.

"Covered up? We're both graduating this semester. You can't come in every class almost half an hour late and tell me you've got it all covered up. You're not screwing this up for me, Harry, not this time."

I've heard the man named Harry sigh. "F**k, Niall, if you're going to act like my f*****g father, you better switch seats with someone because I'm not having any of your bullshit right now."

"Oh, sure, like I actually want to sit with you!" Niall spits and suddenly stands.

I know he does. He's waited for him. The idea of switching seats with Niall does wonders deep down my core, not the good wonders though. My heart is stuck in my throat. I haven't seen the owner of that voice, haven't seen Harry but I know somewhere at the back of my mind that he's bad news.

"Dan, if it's okay..."

I look up from my book to the pissed-off Niall. I look around, trying to find a vacant seat somewhere. Lucky me, there's none. Niall's tardy best friend has finally come into view and just like that, my whole body grows stiff like I've swallowed a congealing pill for boys. Ew, but somebody told me before it's somewhere near that feeling, like your whole body is stiffening instead of that one thing. The thought of it alone makes me want to puke, adding up to it is the chilling sight of those brown, overgrown curls, furrowed-hard brows, plump, puckering lips and incredible set of tattoos. Right this moment, I decide, there's no way in hell I'm going to give up my seat to Niall. I will fight for it until the day I die.

Harry's P.O.V.

The sight of Niall standing so f*****g long right in front of me really gets to my nerves that I want to pull that person sitting on the other seat out of the classroom, just so Niall's s****y face gets out of my way. I roll my eyes over to the one who's keeping him hung up for so long. I'm not a man of emotions and definitely not the one to be surprised, but the sight of this girl with the stupid bun and white shirt identical to mine surely changes that. I'm practically staring at her, from her poor attempt of pulling up that man bun, to the pair of wide, icy-blue eyes she's got, straight down to his open mouth and jittery hands. Honestly, I didn't skip the chest part. I just thought it should be mentioned last. It's not that bad though, I can see. She looks average, downright average and comparing this girl with all the other girls I dated in the past, she's actually f*****g way below my standards, which makes her a good target. Besides that, she f*****g punched me in the nose!

"Hey, you." I spit, earning a much stunned expression from her. She's not speaking and looks absolutely helpless. Most of the time, I find that irritating but strangely, not today. I find myself reveling at the sight of this girl who just punched the s**t out of me scared.

"Wait, wait, you two know each other?" Niall suddenly interjects, his brows pulling together. I literally have to bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from laughing at Niall's confused expression. He looks f*****g stupid.

The feisty girl who doesn't seem to be too feisty today still hasn't spoken. She shakes her head and looks at Niall.

"No, I don't know him." She answers, and just like a cloudy sky that has suddenly cleared up, her fear is gone. She straightens and leans back to her chair, acting like nothing has ever happened. What the f**k.

"Okay, so Dan, would you mind if we switch seats? Because clearly, I and Harry are not exactly best friends right now." Niall says.

Dan? That's her name? I almost laughed at how appropriate it seems for her with all the stupid bun and baggy clothes. All right, now, let's see if she can hold onto that s****y facade she's put on. She's no longer scared? No, I don't think so. If any, she might just be putting up a good show. Interesting, the more ideal she is to be my target.

She stares from her hands, to Niall then slightly to me which has earned a fraction of slight admiration from me for her. Wow, she's indeed a good actress to put up a brave face. "Okay." She simply says.

If this is how she wants to play the game, I'm not backing down. As a matter of fact, I actually think this is going to be a lot of fun.

DAN'S P.O.V.

I stand from my seat, my nerves wrecking the hell out of me, knowing that I'm about to sit on a chair right beside the curly, tattooed boy. He's bad news. It's written all over his face. He tried to pull me somewhere that day. And I punched him on the nose. Clearly, he's going to get back at me and do something really horrible. But I'm not going to show him I'm scared. The more you feed your predator with your fear, the more he revels on it, the more he enjoys the chase. Him, a predator, really? Well, with his jade eyes glistening in malicious pun and his plump lips tugging playfully to the side, I think he really is. Good news about that is... I decide to not care about it. I've got loads of problems. He's not going to be one of them.

In my most normal phase, I inch past Niall, my eyes cast down on the chair, not taking any chances of glancing at Harry and take the seat finally. The air around me is thick. I don't know if it's because of Niall and Harry's obvious breakup as best friends or it's because of where I'm situated right now. Who am I fooling? Of course, it's because of the latter.

The professor starts to talk about romanticism. It's one of my favorite topics in literature because it reminds me of the classic books I read way, way back with Liam during high school. We were having lots of fun trying to understand why characters in those books seem hopeless romantic, until I found myself falling in love with my first girlfriend. That was when I told Liam that I started to finally know how it was to fall in love. I can still remember the exact expression of Liam's face. He seemed very giddy to hear me out. He really was.

I absentmindedly laugh and stare back at my notes.

"If I were the professor, I would have called you out."

My mind snaps back to the fact that there's actually some bad news sitting right at my side. "Excuse me?" I ask, still stuck on my notes, not planning to throw him the slightest glance. He's not going to get anything from me, not an ounce of fear, I swear it.

"You, daydreaming while the professor is in the midst of a lecture? You surely are very crude."

His rough, accented voice, talking to me in that slow manner isn't going to have any of me. "So you're the one to talk about crudeness when you just flipped your best friend off and made him switch seat with me."

To my surprise, he laughs. So he finds this funny. Wow. "Of course, who else should talk about it but the king of it himself?"

I find myself frowning at the idea that he's actually talking to me. I turn to find him grinning from ear to ear. "I'm not talking to you."

He fakes a sour expression. "Oh no, I was actually waiting for so long to finally have you talk to me!" He bites back.

I pull my most sour face too. "Oh my, me too."

And again, to my surprise, he laughs, a real laugh this time. He's weird.

"Mr. Styles, Miss Gilbert. Do you have any plans of sharing with us the good story that you two are depriving the class?"

Oh s**t, first day of a new class, and I've already been called out. I shake my head. "I'm sorry."

The professor nods. "You better be." That and he flips back to his subject.

I sigh and look down on my notes.

"It's fine." Niall, to my left, says.

"Nope." The bad news, to my right, interjects suddenly. "He's terrible. He's known to give the great F."

I can't get an F. "He does?" I ask the bad news that Harry is innocently.

He shrugs. "Yeah, but never mind him. He's old." And he's suddenly flashing a goofy grin. "I can give the greater one."

Niall suddenly laughs out loud at Harry, me getting his intent of pulling off a dirty joke several seconds after. He's frightening me a while ago and now he's dirty-joking me. He's crude and weird and obviously dirty. "Shut the hell up, Styles." That's the surname our professor called out a while ago if I'm not mistaken. So that's surely him.

"Nope, Gilbert, not a chance."

And the bad news just called me in my surname too. So where is this stupid banter going to lead me? I shake my head. We're not having any banter from this moment on. I focus on the writings on the board and begin to scribble when my pen has suddenly been snatched from my hand. Now, he's got my attention. "Give it back."

He shakes his head dramatically and slips the pen to the pocket of his God-damned skinny jeans, close to that region I've never dreamed of touching my entire life. No, I'm not going to allow him to pester me.

I turn to Niall. "Do you have a spare pen?"

"I've got one."

I look back at Styles and he's pointing to the pen he stole from me that's now stuck in the pocket near the...

"Ugh." I mutter and turn back to Niall.

"Sure." He says and gets one from the pocket of his bag. He reaches it to me.

I take it and turn back to my notepad only to find out it's gone. I look at Harry and he has it held down to his lap, right against the void region. "You're utterly disgusting, you know that?"

"I sure as hell do." He responds with a stupid grin.

So this is how he's planning to get back at me for punching him. Great, just great. I'm not going to sit beside him starting tomorrow. I will find another seat, probably in front. And at last, the bell rings. The torture is over.

I jump from my horrible seat and stumble toward the door. I didn't forget to give Niall his pen back and bid him goodbye. Well, the other one, I completely ignored. I pull my phone from my pocket and stare at it closely while I tread the steps back to my locker. Still no messages from Joana. What the hell is happening to her? What does she want exactly? I've been calling her and she's not answering and there's not even a simple Hi from her for days now. Does she want us over for good? Ugh, no way. I open my locker and just in time, my phone beeps, signaling someone's sent a message. On the screen flashes Liam's name. Damn, why is this phone not telling me it's Joana? Something might be wrong in this phone. Maybe I should consider bringing this to the store where I bought it and have it swapped for a functional one.

"Liam? Who's Liam?"

My back straightens in a snap at the sound of the horrible, rough voice near me. To this time, I didn't know he was actually hovering behind me, nosing in my phone. "So this is what you do after class, pry at someone else's phone?"

His brows are pulled together like that's not his intention at all. But I can see right through the malicious pun of his jade eyes. He won't fool me. "I reckon I owe you a pen and an F, I mean a pad."

The way he says those two things together with his favorite F, tells me he's up to something nowhere near good, which I have no plans of putting up with right now. "I'm in the middle of getting my things from my locker and I don't want to be disturbed."

He's got his brows raise in an oddly playful way. "Ooh, someone here is irritated." He mutters, almost humming the last part. "What? Is it because of Liam?"

"What?" I can't believe this. Why is this bad news Harry Styles talking to me about Liam after class?

"He's breaking up with you, isn't he? I might actually congratulate him if he is. You surely don't look like the girlfriend material."

"Ha-ha, nice try of picking up on me, Styles, but that one won't work." I tell him and it's true. Liam is my best friend and he's right. I'm not the girlfriend material for Liam.

"Hmm, and why is that?" He presses, his tattooed left arm leaning at the locker, an annoying grin plastered to his lips while he tilts his head, the top of his head touching the locker.

I frown at the sight of him smiling at me when he should be threatening me. "You're really weird."

"Yeah, and you're f*****g ugly." He bites back and he can't contain himself. He's smirking.

"Wow." All I'm able to say.

"Wow what?" He challenges.

"Wow you're weird and I think you're lame for telling me I'm ugly just to get back at me for punching you in the nose?"

"Nope, I'm not telling you that just to get back at you. I really have meant it."

"Okay? Are you done?"

He shakes his head, shuts his eyes for a second and stares at me as if he were pitying me or something. "Nope, I'm far from done, Gilbert, far from done."

I shrug and roll my eyes. "Okay, but I am. So, bye." I close my locker and head to a direction which is Styles-free. I'm definitely going to start searching for Styles-free areas from now on which I really can't at the moment if he will keep following me like what he does right now. I look back at him. "Are you ever going to stop pestering me?"

He raises his hands. "Whoa, whoa, chill out, Gilbert. There's only one way toward the exit of the building. Had I known there's another, I would have chosen that than to be stuck in the hallway with you."

"Well, good news, there's another one. You can take the window." Another banter that I just let myself fell into. What the hell am I doing?

HARRY'S P.O.V.

I almost laughed at her sarcasm but I stopped myself. I wouldn't want her to give the pleasure of seeing me laugh just like what I did a few times, accidentally at that, during the Lit class. She's feisty, fearless and sarcastic and in front of her, it seems like I don't possess the effect I usually have on girls. She stares at me like I'm just an ordinary specie walking the planet, not the way all the other girls do, like I'm some sort of a Greek God who's flown down from the heavens to cast grace and charms and the great F upon them.

I shake my head and fake a disappointed face. "Horrible, horrible pun, Gilbert. You suck at jokes. You look f*****g ugly. Now, don't wonder if Liam is breaking up with you, I've just told you why."

To my f*****g surprise, she bursts into laughter. When I say laughter, I meant, really healthy, blood-jolting laughter. Damn, she's weird.

"You better stop bringing up Liam all the time, Styles. I swear, if you're trying to insult me, you're heading the wrong direction." She says, her laughter still gets in the way of her words.

"Okay, why?" And stupidly, I just asked again why. Well, I'm wondering, why the f*****g not?

"Like I will tell you." She brushes off my question with a roll of her eyes and turns around to walk. She has this unusual way of dressing up. The girls in the campus usually wear tight skirts, high heels and low-neck tops while she wears exactly the opposite. Plain white shirt, barely snug, black jeans and hideous chucks. She's even got a damn backpack to complete the total loser look. What the hell is this brunette doing, wasting time covering herself like that? She's not small and not exactly thin. She seems slim but I reckon underneath the loose white shirt, she's got flesh in the right parts. And I sure as hell know that under those loose pants is a pair of promising limbs. So what the hell is her problem not showing them off the way all the other girls do?

As soon as we both reach the exit, a blond girl in a floral dress gets in the way, not exactly my way though, but Gilbert's. And when the blond girl reaches Gilbert and pulls her in for a kiss, my question has just been bluntly answered.

Now, that just made her the more perfect of a target.

Author's Note

Check it out here:
https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/51370252-bound-to-share-harry-styles-au