Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I own Bailey. That's pretty much it.
Nffugh. That's all my brain thought when he spoke to me. Why? I never got this weird over a guy of all things. My brain finally regained proper thought. "Hi," I said. I mentally congratulated myself on saying a proper word, "I'm Bailey. Bailey Styles." I continued and he grinned. "Hi Bailey Styles. Do you think you could tell me where room 18C is?" he said, in that gorgeous voice of his. He has to be a singer. There's no way a voice like that could NOT be a singer. "Um, yeah, I can take you-" at this point I was interrupted, by a small cough. It was Nicole Fraser. Of course. At Holmes Chapel, she was the Queen B. What does the B stand for you ask? Let's just say it starts with a B, and rhymes with witch. Taylor Neilson and Jessica Donaldson were her little cronies, along with three other fake blonde evil ass whores. "Hey," she said, in a very well-practiced seductive voice. "I'm Nicole. Do you want me to show you around?" Yeah, around one of the infamous broom closets, the hotspots for the in-school snogging sessions that Nicole's group was so fond of. Louis looked up at her and grinned. Oh dear. "Thanks, Nicole, but I'm good for my first class, but maybe after lunch?" She looked at him incredulously. I suppose no guy had ever turned her down before. Well, he hadn't exactly turned her down, but he hadn't directly said yes, either. She glared at me, then said, "Sure thing. Why don't you sit with my group at lunch, and I can take you as far as you want to go." I scoffed, not missing the double entendre, and she shot an awful look at me, before flouncing off to Zayn, her sometimes-boyfriend. Every single person in the class was looking at him while Miss Richter read the notices, like we ever pay attention to them anyways.
Harry was the next person to come up to us. "Hi Louis." He said, and didn't speak to me, but he did flick a grin in my general direction. "I'm Harry." He said, and once again, Louis grinned. I suppose he was just trying to make as many friends as possible. "Do you like carrots?" Louis asked. What a retarded question. Clearly Harry thought so too, but he grinned, and said, "Yeah, love 'em." Lie. Total lie. He hates carrots. He will never eat them at home. I suppose he really wants Louis inside of his group. Louis' face lit up at this. "Cool!" he said, and once again, Harry looked at him weirdly. "What classes do you have," he asked, and instead of answering, Louis just gave him his timetable. Harry quickly looked over it, and said, "Awesome. You're in four of my classes. English Lit, Biology, Music and History. And you're in Bailey's PE class and maths class." Louis smiled again, and said, "Awesome," he said. Finally the bell rang, and Harry sloped off to get his bag. "C'mon," I said to Louis. "18C is on the way to my next class." We were walking down the hall when Harry, Zayn and Niall came up to us, and said, "Louis, I'm Zayn, and this is Niall. If you want you can sit with us at lunch. Just ask Bailey where to find us." Zayn said, and Louis nodded. "Sure, sounds great." He said, and with that, the three boys left us, off to their next class. We watched them leave, and then continued on to his French class, room 18C. "So," he asked, "Do you know Harry and the others that well?" he said, and I laughed. "I guess you could say that. Harry's my twin brother. The other two have been his best mates for years, along with another guy, Liam." I explained.
"Oh, cool. So what about you?" he asked. Shit, vague question much. "What about me?" I asked back, and he grinned that grin again, the one that turned my brain to absolute mush. "Do you like carrots? Because, well, I only have one condition for when I want a friend. They have to like carrots." He said, and I peered at him quizzically, wondering if he was serious or not. He seemed it, perfectly so, and so I said, "Yeah, sure I like carrots. My favourite vegetable." He grinned again, but by that time we had arrived at his classroom, 18C, and I said, "I'll come get you after Art to take you to your next lesson." Then I figured that I may sound too eager, so I then added, "I mean, if you want me to, because I don't have to if you don't want me to, and you shouldn't feel obliged to if you don't want-" he interrupted my ramble with a, "Sounds great. I'll see you then, then. Later, Miss Styles," he said, and then swooped into a low bow before turning and walking into his French class, which I was pleased to see, did NOT have Nicole Fraser in it.
I walked to my Art class in a daze, still shocked that someone that looked like him would actually be interested in talking to me. The rest of the school, however, still couldn't see me at all, I was invisible. I was walked into six times on the short journey down two corridors, and out of those 6 times, only two of the people had actually noticed and said sorry. It's official. I am invisible.
We got our new assignment in art. We had to do a series of images, photography, painting, charcoal, drawing, whatever we liked, to show the important people or things in our lives, the things that we deem the things that make our life our own. I am so lost on what I am going to do! Art is easily my best subject, and it's what I feel most passionate about, so me having no ideas is a weird thing for me. We spent the rest of the lesson brainstorming ideas of what to include- and why. This is mine so far.
Harry. I hold higher respect for him than any other human in the world. He may be a prick, but mum has never been much of a parent to me, and dad only praises what he notices, but he is never at home. I count Harry as my only family.
My cat? His name is Breakfast. He is a black and white little moggy, and Harry and I share him, but he likes me more than Harry. He sleeps on my bed. The cutest thing ever.
My paint box. It was my grandmothers, and she gave it to me before she died two years ago. It is my favourite thing that I own, the one thing I would rescue in a fire etc.
Is that mildly pathetic? My brother, my cat and my paints. I could include my favourite music and everything, but I feel that that's too predictable. I took a peek at some of my classmate's lists. Derek Rinaldi's included his boyfriend; Jack, Michael Buble and the word RAINBOW written in bubble writing. Well, at least he was open about it.
Bianca Leishman's had two words written on it in massive letters. JUSTIN BEIBER. And then a LOT of doodled hearts. Figures.
Rosemary Craft's scared me. On it were words like "blood" and "death" and "emo" and "pain". And they were all written in red ink, purposefully, I think to remind her of blood.
Finally I looked at Xavier Davidson's list. It was exactly what I expected. He was the poster child for normalcy. There was "football," and "family," and "friends," and what I presumed was his favourite band, the Fray. It would look lovely when he placed it all together, but was boring, and it showed us nothing of his personality, except that he had a thing for the letter F. Quite funny actually, because he was currently dating Fiona Freeman, the student body president.
I returned to my seat dejectedly, my little trip not helping me in the slightest. The teacher Mr Andrews came over to me. "Alright, Bailey?" he said, and I shook my head. "I don't know what to do, Mr Andrews! I've never had to think so much before making something. I don't know enough about myself to put it all into a piece of art." I told him, and he looked at me knowingly. "Well then you know what you need to do then," he said, and I looked at him in confusion. "What?" I asked, and he grinned. "Learn about yourself. Do you have a blank notebook in your bag?" he asked, and I nodded. "Well, use it to write down everything about yourself. And every time you learn something new about yourself, write it down. Then when you feel that you know yourself well enough, decide what the most important things TO YOU are, and use them." I grinned at him. "Alright, thanks Mr Andrews!" I said, and he clapped me on the shoulder and walked away. Everything I know about me. Right. That shouldn't take too long, should it?