I Hate Everything About You

“Excuse me, Mr. Styles.” Our teacher called over. Harry had been late to class, therefore being forced to sit in the only open chair: the one on the right of me. As soon as he walked in and I realized that seat was his only choice, I knew the rest of this class would be my own personal hell.

“Yes, sir?” He asked, looking away from my glare with an innocent expression.

“You need to pay attention,” He ordered. Harry just chuckled, casually looking towards the board.

“Sorry Mr. Harris, I was a bit distracted.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you need to be moved?” Mr. Harris suggested.

“No, I think I’ll be fine.” He smirked, picking up his pen like he was going to take notes. Mr. Harris went back to his stupid lesson about equations, ignoring the few laughs throughout the classroom.

“Natalie,” Harry whispered huskily. I ignored him and continued writing down what was being written on the board.

“Listen to me,” He demanded.
I ignored him still, my eyes set on the board, not hearing a word that was coming out of the teacher’s mouth. I was only aware of what Harry was saying, trying to get me to budge, to look into his bright green eyes, eyes that I was sure were sparkling with mischief - the same look I’d seen a million times before.

Mr. Harris turned back to the board and wrote some more babble about how x equaled 17.

“Leave me alone, Harry.” I looked at him, gritting my teeth. This went the same way every time, he would try to provoke me and I’d resist for a while. Then I’d get pissed and retaliate. And that’s when he got to me the most.

“I know you want to talk to me, Miller.” He called me by my last name, an annoying habit he’d recently developed.

“You’re such an ass, leave me alone.” I glared at him once again before I set my eyes back to the board.

“Ooh, little miss weirdo learned some new curse words.” He chuckled.

The thing I didn’t understand about Harry was that whenever he bullied me now he did it so no one else could hear. Most bullies did it to feel powerful, to make the other feel weak in front of a bunch of people. Apparently Harry just needed to see the pain in my eyes to smile, not the laughter from the other kids to fuel him.

I bit my tongue, literally, to keep from responding.

Just as I tasted blood from biting my tongue so hard, the bell signaling the end of class rang and everyone bolted up, ready to move into the hallways to talk to their friends.
I did the same, more eager to get away from Harry than to meet my friends.

Harry stood at the same time, following close behind me as I walked up the aisle.
The next thing I knew something snagged on my foot and I fell forward, my face narrowly missing the desk to my left. My hands caught my fall, no real damage done except a little pain in my wrist. I laid on the ground, so pissed at Harry that I felt tears welling in my eyes.

It wasn’t the first time Harry had made me cry in anger, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“Are you okay, Ms. Miller?” Mr. Harris asked, looking up from his desk briefly, not really caring whether I was alright or not.

“Yeah,” I muttered while I turned so I was sitting on my butt. I looked up and saw a smirking Harry, the same glint of mischief I had mentioned glittering in his eyes.

“You good?” He smirked, standing above me, finally feeling the power he wanted. Without waiting for an answer he spun on his heel and walked away. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and picked myself off the ground, throwing my backpack over my shoulder and stomping out of the classroom.