Harry’s POV:
She was so beautiful, it was maddening. I wanted her more than I ever wanted anyone before. I wanted her when I first bumped into her in the hall on the first day of sophomore year. She probably doesn’t remember that. She was late to geometry and I was skipping world history. I wanted her to skip with me, but I had heard she wasn’t like that. I also had heard she was dating Quinton. Damn him. He treated her like shit, yet she loved him. What a load of shit. I walked out into the hallway and stopped at my locker. All my boys gathered around me.
“I told that Dani girl I sit with that I would go over her house to work on that project, but I’m not really going.” Niall laughed at his own dumbass plan.
Louis chimed in, “I told that guy I’m sitting next to the same thing. I won’t work on some dumb health project.”
Liam and Zayn joined in the laughter and agreed with Niall and Louis.
Louis elbowed me, “Are you working on that project with that Easton chick?”
I shook my head, “She isn’t in the Easton Gang, and she just dates Quinton.”
“Whatever, you’re ditching her right? We can mess shit up this weekend!"
“I don’t know. She’s really into getting good grades and shit.” I looked across the hallway and saw her at her locker. Quinton was coming up behind her and hugged her. She turned and smiled and they kissed. That should be me. I want it to be me.
Louis snapped in my face, “Don’t tell me you like her or some shit?”
“I never said that.”
Liam jumped in, “The way you look at her says differently.”
“I don’t like her, she’s a dumb bitch. Okay? Just drop it.” I slammed my locker. Every looked over at me, including Gabriella. She eyed me with a worried look. I shook my head and walked down the hallway. I turned into an empty classroom and sat a desk; I needed a second to calm down. I put my hands in my head and tugged at the roots of my hair. I heard a knock at the door.
“Harry?” I would know that voice anywhere.
“Gabriella, go away.”
“My friends call my Gabby.”
I laughed, “We’re friends?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
I looked up at her, “So are we going to meet up this weekend for the project or what?”
She frowned, “Sure. You can come over my house, if you want.”
I nodded, “Sure. Text me where you live.” I got up and tried to pass through the door, but Gabriella was blocking it.
“I don’t have your number.” Her voice was small. We were close. I wanted to know if her lips tasted like she smelled. She smelled so good; it was a mix between vanilla and cinnamon. It was like smelling a candle.
I pulled out my phone, “What’s your number?”
She proceeded to tell me her number and I took it down in my phone. “I’ll text you.”
She moved out of my way, “How will I know it’s you?”
I smiled at her, “You’ll know.”
She smiled back at me. I walked away satisfied at how well that conversation went.

Gabby’s POV:
Why did I get this hot feeling in my cheeks when I was that close to Harry? I didn’t like him; we weren’t friends, I just…I don’t know what I thought. I loved Quinton, but Harry was right, he did sleep with almost every girl in this school, except for me. We have been together for two years and we haven’t even had sex. I laughed at how dumb that sounded. I used to put out on the first date. I used to be a whore, I got a reputation, but Quinton made me want to change. I only wanted to be with him, clearly, he didn’t feel the same.
Someone came up behind me and grabbed me by the hips, “Come on, we have English class.”
I knew his voice anywhere, “Quinton, stop!” I didn’t like public displays of affection.
I blushed as he kissed my cheek. He came in front of me and pulled me by the arm. Harry was standing at Louis’ locker when we passed. He eyed up Quinton, giving him a dirty look, as always. But his eyes changed when he looked at me. They became gentler, yet more sad. He looked down at his feet, refusing to make eye contact with me. I walked into English class and took my seat next to Quinton and he sat with his other gang members. The teacher came in and started class. We were taking about the reading from the previous night. I offered my thoughts, which were right, and then I stopped participating. All I could think about was Harry, his eyes, his lips, oh my god, his lips. I wanted to know if they tasted like he smelled. He smelt like a mix of mint and cologne. I just didn’t know why I was thinking about him this way. I doubt he was thinking about me like this.