Ruled by Fate

Harry never had much trouble when it came to girls. He had those boyish good looks that girls seemed to like, and his charm helped quite a lot. And, of course, so did his dimples.

He wasn't a whore, no. Harry didn't sleep with random girls in the school and then just drop them. He wasn't like that at all; he liked relationships (and the benefits they usually brought), and he liked having someone around with him. Harry was never lonely.

He had a few girlfriends in the past. Started "dating" when he was thirteen, though Sally Carmichael didn't count on technical standards because he never really went out on a date with her, or even kissed her. He just walked her to her classes with her hand clasped with his, and they hugged. But, she did count to him because that was the first girl Harry had ever asked to be his and only his, and Sally would always hold a place in his heart as his first girlfriend.

Trina was pretty nice, though she was more clingy than a koala on a tree. And Harry didn't like clingy at all. As much as he loved having someone around, that was a bit too much.

All the other girls were short relationships, only lasting two or three weeks. Sometimes it was the girl's fault: Them not being around much, or she flirted profusely with other guys behind his back. But sometimes it was Harry's fault, too: He would close himself off from her and not talk to her for a few days because he got thinking about his life, or he would get angry because she never wanted to do anything he wanted to do. 

And really, they were stupid relationships that rarely got him a good lay, or any lay for that matter. Girls just didn't put out like they used to.

So Harry was fairly experienced in the Girls Department. He knew what to say, knew how to act, knew what to do. The thing with Harry was that he was very adaptable. If a girl liked this a certain way, then he'd do it. But if another girl didn't like that, but liked something else, he'd do that for her. Harry wasn't fussy; but when it came to the things he specifically wanted, he stuck by those until the end.

But when Nahla Sparrow came around, Harry's streak had run out.

She sat next to him in his English class, and had scooted her chair away from him as the desk would allow; Harry had tried not to feel a little offended. He knew he didn't smell, so why had she moved away like he was the Black Plague in human form?

"Uh, hullo?" Maybe if he was gentle enough she'd crack and answer back. Or maybe, if he was really lucky, look at him and answer back.

Nahla merely nodded once sharply, not even glancing his way, and Harry was appalled. Didn't this girl want friends? She didn't look the type to be shy or anything of that nature.

"I'm Harry Styles," he tried again, thinking now she had to talk to introduce herself, which was definitely a step forward. 'Baby steps,' he thought.

But Nahla only nodded once again, and Harry had to stop himself from noticeably gaping at her. That was all she had done. Nodded once and didn't even look at him out of the corner of her eye. She just kept staring forward, a hard look in her eyes, and Harry wanted to punch her. What was this girl's deal? She acted so stand-offish and had the presence of 'I just really don't want to be here and you're making it impossible for me to imagine myself somewhere else.' Harry didn't like school all that much, but he didn't hate it; he knew he had to be there if he wanted to get to his profession. But he didn't hate it; he liked seeing his friends during the day. But this Nahla girl was really making it difficult for him to semi-tolerate school.

"Okay, then," he merely sighed and stared forward. He figured she didn't like talking during class, and would catch her in the hallways to talk to her there. That was a pretty reasonable explanation, right?

Wrong.

Nahla had bolted out of the class just as the bell rang before Harry could even process that the class was over. He stared after her. He was a bit offended she had been so curt to him. Everyone liked Harry! But this girl, she just didn't seem to want to even look at him. She must really be hiding something, and that made Harry want to talk to her all the more.

----

Harry saw her the end of the day at what he appropriately assumed was her locker. She was taking out books and putting them in her backpack, and putting a few back when she paused and thought about it. She had pushed up her sleeves to her elbows, and now Harry could fully see the lower half sleeve and glove tattoo she had. He couldn't tell what they were, just looked tribal or something. But whatever they were, they were incredibly amazing, and Harry found him standing there staring at them for a few seconds longer than what seemed appropriately normal.

However, he caught himself and decided to go ask her about them because then she would talk to him if he didn't give her yes or no questions, and Harry commended himself for being a right genius.

She had headphones in her ears, and Harry could hear the music even from where he was standing. It sounded like a lot of guitars and heavy drums and someone screaming. He wondered how she could listen to music at such a loud volume.

He reached up and tapped her shoulder, knowing talking to her to get her attention wouldn't work. She was startled at first, and her wavy locks whipping around her face when she looked over in Harry's direction. Harry didn't realize how much shorter than he she was until then; it was probably a good four or more inches.

She didn't contain herself from giving a confused, slightly weirded-out expression, like she honestly didn't want to give him the time of day by even looking at him. But she pulled out only one of her headphones nonetheless. "Can I help you?" Harry could hear the American accent, and thought it to be quite cute. He loved American accents. But right now, this American accent sounded completely annoyed.

"U-Uh, hullo." Harry cursed himself for stammering. Why was he so nervous talking to this girl? She was just a girl. "I'm. I'm Harry. I'm from your homeroom? And English?"

She stared at him for a few moments, and Harry wondered if she were really just deaf and could read his lips well. But that didn't make sense because he had just spoken and she still didn't answer. 

"Uh. I sit next to you in English. If that helps," he continued to mumble.

She blinked as a sudden realization washed over her. "Oh. Yeah." Harry sighed. She honestly hadn't remembered him. "Hey," she said, now confused as to why Harry had approached her. Did she seriously want him away from her that badly? "Did, uh, you need help with something?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed together. "Help?" Oh, she meant English. 'No, I just wanted to get you to talk to me. And you hardly want to look at me,' Harry thought solemnly. But she didn't know that, and Harry didn't want her to know that. So with a deep sigh, he asked, "Yeah. Uh, what was the homework?" even though he already knew it.

"Just finish up the worksheet we got in class," she shrugged, and when she did, Harry could see her collarbones even more. God, she was so skinny, it seemed.

Harry didn't even realize another moment of silence had passed until she asked him if he needed anything else. And before Harry blurted out a question of why she was acting the way she was, he merely shook his head and thanked her for the information, and walked away.

Now, one would think this wasn't a very successful conversation. Nahla had practically pushed Harry away with the way she talked to him, with the looks she gave him. But Harry found it extremely accomplishing. Nahla had talked to him. Not just nodded, or looked at him from the corner of her eye. She had a conversation with him. And that was the first time of many Harry would try to weave his way into the life of Nahla Sparrow.