I was at a stupid party, as usual. My eyes lingered over the usual crowd of assholes and bitches, getting drunk and making out. I observed from the porch, drinking a red solo cup filled with Sprite. I was smarter than that- to allow my mind to become clouded, with the possibility of men to take advantage of me.
Marcel- the most picked on ‘nerd’ of my entire grade- was sitting on the porch as well, but we hadn’t communicated. He looked absolutely terrified, waiting for some jock to use him as a source of entertainment for his dick-friends. He was trying to remain hidden, which bugged me.
"Marcel," I finally spoke up, turning my attention to the boy. His gelled-back-hair, thick glasses, and sweater vest weren’t exactly in style, but he looked cute nonetheless. He turned to me in pure amazement.
"Did you say…my name?" He asked in his deep, raspy accent.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I did. I’m fully aware of saying a name, Marcel.”
He shook his head frantically and blushed, looking down. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought…I don’t know. It’s not everyday a girl like you stops to talk to me.”
I had to refrain from clenching my red solo cup and spilling the liquid inside. I gritted my teeth instead, scowling. “That’s how fucked up this world is.”
He smiled slightly, growing the confidence to look back up at me. “Are you drunk?” He asked, observing me from his seat on the couch. I was sat on a plastic chair a few feet away. “I mean, maybe your talking to me because you are dru-“
"I don’t drink," I interrupted.
He rose an eyebrow and looked down at my cup.
"Sprite," I commented bluntly, taking a swig. "Want some?" I held the cup out, smiling.
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m not taking chances. Besides, I can’t trust the drinks I’m offered here.”
I grimaced. “It disgusts me.”
"How you have enough trust issues to not even take an offered sip of Sprite, all because you’re treated a different way then most should be."
Marcel shrugged. “It’s whatever.”
"No, it’s not!" I shouted. "It’s not whatever, Marcel! People don’t see the hurt, people don’t see the pain….the things they cause others, and it’s nasty!"
He winced at my rising tone. He muttered something, but I didn’t make it out.
"I…I said…then why are you dating the boy who does that the most?"
Craig. My asshole of a boyfriend. I sighed and glared at my red solo cup of sprite, and threw it at the porch floor. “I don’t deserve better.”
He was silent. I looked up to see his green eyes blazing through his glasses. I wouldn’t be surprised if the glass shattered. “Now THAT, is what disgusts me.”
It was my turn to question him. “What?”
He crossed his leg over the other, narrowing his eyes at my asking. “You don’t realize that you deserve something outstanding, because you are convinced from others opinions that all you really deserve is some asshole who can’t even treat you how you should be treated.”
My eyes widened. “How…how did you-“
"Babe, why the fuck are you talking to Marcel?" Craig’s slurred voice asked.
I glanced up at Craig. “Because I’m putting my god damn voice box to good use.”
His glassy eyes fumed and his nostrils flared. “Marcel, you’re in for it this time you disgusting little maggot!”
"Hey!" I interfered as Marcel’s eyes widened and he leaned back into the couch. I stood up and poked Craig in the chest. "DON’T YOU DARE TALK TO HIM LIKE THAT, CRAIG! HE’S A GOOD PERSON, AND YOU’RE DRUNK! LEAVE IT ALONE!"
Craig pushed me, ignoring every word that fell from my lips, and took a fistful of Marcel’s expensive sweater. He lifted him off the couch, his eyes wild. “This is for talking to my girlfriend,” he spat, grabbing his glasses with his free hand and smashing them to the ground, crushing them with his foot. Marcel blinked rapidly, unable to see.
"CRAIG!" I shouted, running towards them. "STOP, PLEASE!" I tried to run in between them, but Craig’s big ass shoulder shoved me away as he carried Marcel to the big pool in the back yard.
“CRAIG, NO!” I tried again, running towards them.
Before I could stop him, he ripped Marcel’s shirt with bare hands and threw him, half naked, into the pool. Without second-thinking, I jumped in after him.
My body smacked into the freezing water, considering it was fall.
I can’t swim.
I sucked in water and thrashed my limbs, searching for the surface. I’m going to drown. I’m going to drown. I continued to push upwards, using all of my body strength to fight against the chlorine filled water.
When I was about to give up, strong, muscular arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me up. When I found air, my mouth opened widely and I coughed- my nose and throat burning. I inhaled and opened my eyes, fresh tears flowing over my cold cheeks. Marcel was looking at me and holding my figure, panic in his eyes.
He was shirtless, and with my body pressed against his, I could feel his muscular figure pressed against me. His hair was disposed of the gel it used to be coated in, and clung to his face- a dark brown color. His big, green eyes were fully exposed and sparkling, and his rapid breathing moved our bodies up and down as he held me, floating in the pool.
Just me and him.
His face had tiny trails of water gliding down them, and in that moment, he looked flawless. Beautiful, even.
"Are you…okay?" His deep accent whispered. His eyes scanned my face.
I nodded once, barely. “I…I can’t swim.”
"I could see that," he laughs, his chest moving.
I nodded again.
"Is something wrong?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing.
I observed him again, looking at all of his exposed features I had never been exposed to before. “You look beautiful,” I whispered, staring into his green eyes.
He blushed and I did too, realizing I had said it out loud. He looked back up, then stared around at our surroundings. “We should probably get out,” he mumbled. “Everybody is staring at us.”
My gaze lifted to stare around the backyard, and I met the curious eyes of every person attending the party. Craig was fuming at the side of the pool still, watching with infuriated eyes. “I don’t want Craig to hurt you.”
"He won’t," Marcel smiled.
"Shh, c’mon. I’ll wade us over to the ladder," he interrupted.
I nodded slightly and he began to swim, floating me along with him. He gave me a boost and pushed me up, and I scrambled out of the pool, slightly terrified I would slip and fall in again. Something told me Marcel would save me, though.
"Please, tell me what the FUCK that was!" Craig shouted. I cringed and felt Marcel’s presence as he got out of the pool as well.
I was going to fire back something about how he was only helping me, but his raspy voice cut me off.
"It was a guy caring for your girl more than you ever could," he spat. Marcel slowly walked up to my side. I stared at him in awe. My awe was replaced with another wave of surprise when I took notice to how attractive he looked. His jaw was clenched and beads of water trailed down his shirtless, muscular figure.
Craig’s eyes burned in anger again, and his fists clenched. “Not my girl anymore.” His icy glare turned to meet my gaze. “Not anymore,” he muttered in a lower tone. He stormed off around the side of the house and roared away in his car- my ride here.
Great. I pouted and gazed after him. “Dammit,” I cursed. Everybody who was watching curiously was now starting the party back up, laughing and talking rambunctiously like nothing happened.
Marcel sighed next to me. “Hey, (y/n), I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“
"Can you see, Marcel?" I asked, turning to look at the insanely good looking boy.
His hair was a lot longer when it wasn’t gelled in place- it was air drying into chocolate-brown curls, which looked outstanding with his facial structure. His green eyes glistened in the dim lighting around us. His shirtless torso was covered in tattoos, which shocked me. Who would’ve known? They were hidden underneath sweater vests and blazer sleeves. My eyes lingered on his fit body- not a perfect six pack, but a very nice outline of one. His arms were very muscular, too. He looked hot.
"Not at all," he chuckled, itching his neck sheepishly.
"Would you like me to drive you home?"
"Honestly, it’s really okay. I can-"
"Marcel, give me your keys," I interrupted, holding out my hand.
He sighed and pulled out his car keys from his wet chinos pocket.
Once we got to his car, I hesitated outside of it.
He rose an eyebrow and gave me a look from his spot in the passenger seat.
"I-I’m wet…" I whined.
He rolled his eyes. “Get in.”
I nodded and hopped inside, starting the car and leaving that place as fast as I could.
We drove in silence, except for his casual muttering of directions, but my thoughts were screaming. Finally, I exploded. “Why’d you save me?”
It was silent for a moment. I flicked my gaze from the road to Marcel- who looked insanely attractive by now. His hair was completely dry and naturally curled into a shaggy mop of brown. He looked really good. He was staring at me with a childish pout. “What in the hell kind of a question is that?”
I shrugged and looked back at the dark road. “A question.”
He sighed heavily. “Because you were drowning, you idiot.”
My mouth formed into a thin line. “Craig wouldn’t have-“
"Craig is an asshole, and you don’t have to deal with him anymore."
"Yeah, but you do."
"I can handle him."
"No you can’t."
"Yes I can."
"No you can’t."
"Yes I can. It’s this one."
I pulled into the driveway of a nice, cozy looking white house and got out slowly. Marcel stomped to the door and walked inside.
Wait, am I supposed to follow? Probably not. The door had already closed behind him and I narrowed my eyes at it. I placed the car keys on the hood of his cheap black car and groaned. My parents didn’t know I was out. My friends were all drunk at that party. Well, fuck.
I began walking to the left, but it didn’t seem like the correct way home. I turned around on my heel and began walking right. No, wait, left felt more correct.
"What are you doing?" Marcel’s voice asked.
I jumped and looked up at the doorway, watching him put in his right contact. He was in a cotton white shirt and grey sweats. His curly hair was pushed back in the front, and he looked fucking hot.
"I…um…I…I was trying to walk home but- why are you getting more and more attractive? Are you some wizard or something? Is this all a dream?" I couldn’t take the questions that were rattling in my brain.
I could make out his blush in the dark night. “Yeah, I’m a wizard, (y/n), totally.”
"I don’t get it, Marcel. I’m being serious. One second you’re this cute little nerd and the next you’re, like, some Hollister model. For Christ’s sake, explain yourself."
He blushed even redder. “St-Stop,” he whined. He was getting embarrassed.
"I’m just saying. Can I come inside? It’s cold and Craig-"
"Asshole," he corrected.
"Asshole was my ride home."
"I guess," he drawled out, smirking. A dimple popped out in his cheek.
"Seriously? You have dimples too?! For fucks sake, Marcel-"
"Harry," he interrupted.
"Harry?" I asked.
"Harry?" Another voice asked. I screamed and jumped in surprise. ‘Harry’ smirked at me, again, a very nice smirk, as a very pretty woman emerged in the doorway. "What are you doing up?" Her attention turned to me. "Who’s this?"
"Mum, this is (y/n). She’s staying here tonight- her car broke down and her parents are out of town. I know her- she’s in my grade and all. Is that alright?"
"I…uh, sure, I guess," the woman shrugged. She smiled at me. "I’m Anne."
"(Y/N)," I smiled back.
"Alright, well, I’m going back to bed. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do," she sing-songed, winking. With that, she sprinted up the stairs.
I blushed crimson and looked down at my feet.
"C’mon," ‘Harry’ mumbled, walking in. I followed behind him and closed the door, quietly padding into the house. "Lets go to the basement."
I nodded and followed him down a flight of stairs, to which he turned a light on. We both plopped on a big, red sofa.
"Why do you go by Harry?" I asked.
He smiled at my interest. “It’s my name.”
I cocked my head to the side. “But-“
"Marcel is my middle name."
"Because I don’t want people to know the real me at school."
"What’s the real you, then?"
He motioned to himself. “This.”
I pouted. “But ‘this’ you is so hot!” I joked.
He blushed. “I told you to stop with the compliments.”
"Sorry, it’s just….shocking."
"What? That some nerd could look decent?" He challenged, smirking again. His smirk was really damn sexy.
"No," I gushed. "Just…some boy who got harassed every day- they actually are ten times as sexy as the popularest kid in school. Imagine that," I mused.
"Well. I have talents people wouldn’t recognize, yaknow, other than my image."
I leaned in, interested. “Like….what?”
He leaned in too, mocking me. I smiled lightly. “Caring, learning, singing, writing…understanding, trusting…even…” He looked down at my lips, which were extremely close to his, now that I’ve realized. “Even kissing.”
Before I could stop them, I whispered the words over his lips. “Prove it.”
He leaned in, and both our eyes fluttered closed. Then, it happened.
Our lips connected, and butterflies tingled in the pit of my stomach. His hands wrapped around my waist and mine wrapped around his neck, and we began kissing. I was KISSING Marcel…no, HARRY Styles. His lips were soft, and his kissing was slow and romantic. His tongue fought for dominance with mine, and my hands reached up and grabbed his curls, pulling them slightly. He moaned and pushed me on top of his lap, so I was straddling him.
He was an amazing kisser…who would dare bully him for not being one? I wonder if he was good at other things. In the heat of the moment, I had too. Craig would have wanted it. Boys were like that.
I began slowly rocking back and forth in his lap, well, slow at first- I started to gradually lower myself onto him at a faster pace, causing him to moan. A bulge pressed against my inner thigh, and a rush of pleasure went through my body.
"E-Enough…" He said, his raspy accent lustful and filled with contempt.
"I don’t know about that, Harry," I growled, going faster. "I can’t quite stop myself."
He let out an extraordinarily loud moan of pleasure. “You need to…to stop, please,” he begged. But his voice was so hoarse…and I was in some strange trance right now- a weird ecstasy I hadn’t felt with anybody. “PLEASE!” He hissed.
I stopped in place, looking at Harry. His green eyes were a shade darker, and they bored into mine.
"I don’t…I’m not that kind of person,"
He mumbled, looking down.
I realized what I was doing and rolled off quickly, flushing red and burying my face in my hands.
"Hey, I…I’m sorry, I…I wanted to go on, I did, oh god, I really did- but I have more respect for you than that. You don’t have to do that for me. I’m not like Craig."
I peeked out from my hands and looked at a concerned Harry. The pieces in my brain came together. I was only doing that because that’s what Craig- the only guy I’d ever experienced real intimacy with, sadly- would have wanted. Harry had more care and respect for me than Craig did, and we’d known each other for 2 hours.
"I’m sorry, I…"
"I understand," he smiled, cutting me off. "It’s okay."
It grew silent, and I began to fear I had made it awkward between me and the only real friend I had ever had.
"S’MORES!" his voice cheered. "LETS MAKE SOME S’MORES OVER THE STOVE!"
He sprinted upstairs and left me alone in the basement. I smiled up at where he left, and for some reason, I realized in that moment this was just the beginning of our friendship. And he was really damn sexy.
"You coming?" His voice asked. His mop of brown curls poked around the corner.
"Yeah," I smiled, getting up and sprinting up the stairs.
Who would have known that the school nerd- the boy with huge glasses, slicked back hair, and the wardrobe of an old English Professor- would be a beautiful boy who was full of thoughtfulness and a caring heart, all for his bully’s ex girlfriend?