Then and Now: A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Here’s a relatively quick update! Got it out faster because I woke up to almost twenty comments after one night. Comments and votes equal Redbull and Monster combined. Haha. But seriously. It’s true.

Enjoy!

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I heard him.

I heard what Harry said to Liam. Well, part of it. I heard when he said, “I don’t know how to Liam. How do you tell your best friend that you love her?” the moment I heard that my heart started beating erratically and I had to try my hardest to keep my breathing normal. And pretend that I was waking up slowly, when really my brain was going off at a hundred miles an hour.

Harry loved me. He god damn loved me.

I couldn’t actually process what was going through my mind right now, and the fact that he actually returned the emotions that I felt for him. I had to act normal though; Harry didn’t know that I had his confession.

I continued on with him as I normally would, taking silly pictures, and making crazy videos that had the flight attendants yelling at us. Everything was going perfectly normal, but then Harry decided to tweet something.

He tweeted about bullying. Usually I was able to push away my ever controlling emotions in that sort of situation, but this time, the heartfelt words he used, as well as the emotion he seemed to put behind them, had me unable to keep my face blank.

I probably picked the wrong words when I thanked him for what he had tweeted. It sounded too personal, it sounded like I had been involved; it sounded like I had been bullied.

As much as I’d like to say that I hadn’t, that I went through my secondary education only worrying about the next party and who my date to prom was, I couldn’t. Because I had been bullied.

For my first two years, I was average, to say the least, I had my close friends, and I socialized with people in my classes. I was happy. But then The Party came, the party that ruined my life.

I hadn’t wanted to go; it was a more senior crowd of kids, there was drugs and liquor, and a lot of hooking up. I was content with staying at home watching reruns of Downtown Abbey, but one of my friends, Liz, decided that she wanted to go, and she was going to take us with her. So somehow, I found myself in a dress, heading to Lucas Copper, the school’s golden boys, house. I was the designated driver, so I wasn’t going to drink; the party was going to be terrible on my end. But I made a stupid mistake and accepted a cup of what I assumed to be coke from someone. It turned out to be spiked with vodka, and before I knew it, I was drunk off my ass. Then I made the choice that would ruin my life, and make my last two years of required schooling a nightmare.

I got into a catfight with Mackenzie Hanson. The head cheerleader; your stereotypical blonde whore that had sex with anything male. Extremely bitchy. And that night, extremely wasted.

I said some things I probably shouldn’t have said, overall making her more than pissed at me because of how true most of them were. I ended with a scratch on my shoulder that took over a year to heal, but she received a permanent scratch on her neck courtesy of my extra sharp French manicured nails.

In a fairytale scenario, everyone would suddenly become great friends with me and I’d be popular and the queen bitch herself would sulk away. But that didn’t happen. Mackenzie made my life a living hell, and she held so much power and fear with people around the school that they slunk away from me until I only had one friend. Becca.