I only took a few photos of Harry before rushing off to my room to be alone with my thoughts before Editing class started. I knew that him trying to take off my jacket came with no intentions, other than to get a good shot, and I hated that his simple and hesitant touch shocked me so much.

It was the first time someone of the opposite sex had been that close to me in months. Close enough to make me feel nervous anyways. The way I reacted to him didn't surprise me in the least, I knew that it was just my past coming to haunt me. And even though I had no intentions of trying to hook up with someone or get a boyfriend, the fact I was terrified of this boy's closeness, scared me for my future for when I did maybe want to be with someone.

I took off my leather jacket and threw it over my desk chair and looked down at my arms. Scars; The oldest ones faded to a visible white and the newer ones still a shade of light pink, graced themselves between my wrists and the inside of my elbows. I had wished more than anything for them to finally all fade to white so they would all finally be less noticeable. California was so much hotter than Vancouver and I wasn't sure I'd be able to wear long sleeves forever in this heat. They reminded me of all the times I allowed myself to get hurt. There was at least two hundred scars on my arms from over the last two years. Two hundred reminders of the pain. Two hundred bad memories, some of which I couldn't even remember, and two hundred reasons I left that life. It was sad that it took me at least two hundred times to figure out I deserved better than what I was given, but the fact that I even realized it at all, made me realize that at some point, I had allowed myself to have at least some kind of respect for myself, and for that I was grateful. I was grateful for being strong enough to finally get away, even with the little bit of dignity I had left. I had to hold my head up high and be happy knowing it was over and I could get on with my life.

I threw off my white tank top and sighed, deciding to change into a white long sleeve shirt with 'Cute as F*%k' printed in bold black letters across the front and deemed it presentable enough for the second class of the day.

Before going to Editing class, I stopped at the coffee cart again where I ran into a girl I recognized from class this morning. She happily introduced herself as Astrid and said she was glad to have found someone else from class to talk to other than the girl she had gotten paired up with for Portraits, who wasn't very nice, and we made our way through the school to the bottom floor where all of our classes were, with freshly made coffees in our hands.

"So I booked us some time in the studio tonight from seven to nine," Harry informs me, as he sits down next to me when he walks into the classroom filled with computers. He doesn't even look at me when he plugs his camera into the computer in front of him and waits for his pictures to load.

After I don't say anything in return, he looks at me. "Is that okay with you? I wasn't sure if two hours was too much, but just in case you don't know what you're doing, I thought I'd book it for a while."

Douchebag. Assuming I don't know what the hell I'm doing and he doesn't even know me. "Yeah, seven works for me," I simply tell him.

Just as his pictures finish loading and they pop up on his screen, the professor walks in. Her high heels echoing through the classroom. My attention doesn't leave Harry's computer though, as he scrolls through the shots he got of me earlier today. Surprisingly, he had taken quite a lot of them, where I had only taken a few, wanting to get away from him and my uncomfortable feeling as quickly as possible. When I realized how sad I looked in his pictures, my smile not meeting my eyes, I decided to focus my attention on the professor who was writing her name on the dry erase board. 'Professor Megan Wilson.'

As she is going through her explanation of what to expect this semester, which feels like is never ending, Harry pokes me on the shoulder taking my attention away from where it should be. He apparently hadn't been listening to Megan's introduction speech at all, and was already editing a picture of me the whole time on photoshop. "Hey, check this out." He doesn't even take his eyes off the screen as he finishes what he's doing, saving the picture and brings up the original and shows me his edited version.

It's obvious he doesn't even need to be in this class and he is just showing off his talents to me. Cocky smile on his face as he finally looks over at me. It's weird seeing a picture of myself that almost looks as good as something that could be in magazine.

"You like this subject," a voice says behind us. We look back to see that Megan has apparently stopped class to come over to us, seeing that our attention was elsewhere. "Am I right?" She asks, after we don't say anything.

Harry and I look at each other and I can feel my cheeks heat up at her comment. I feel flustered that she has put some attention on us, looking away, I try to hide my face in my hair.

"Explain to me why you chose this to edit first?" Megan asks Harry. "What do you see in the picture that catches your eye?"

In the picture, I'm looking off into the distance with my chin rested in my hand. He's made it black and white. "The picture makes you want to know what she's thinking about," Harry finally answers. "She looks sad, almost broken. And she wants nothing more than to forget about whatever it is that's hurt her. The way she's looking away from the camera makes you see that she's looking for something better, but she's scared. Hence, the small smile on her face but the sad look in her eyes. You can tell she's not happy, but she wants to be."

My mouth falls agape, listening to his explanation. There's no way this one picture tells him all of that and yet he basically just described me to a tee in front of the class. I hated that he could see all of that in me, and I knew that I had to change. I needed to stop being an open book and not be so obvious.

I had come here to be happier. I decided at this moment, as Harry cautiously looked into my eyes, as he bit his bottom lip, I was just going to be me. The girl I used to be anyways. Unafraid of the small things. No more being vulnerable in the slightest. I used to be strong and outgoing and fun. I wasn't going to be the girl he had just described. That was who I was. But not anymore. I am going to forget the last two years happened, as much as I possibly can and go with it.

Megan asks us both our names before proceeding. "You see, Harry here, has captured an image of Paisley with a story. All of the best pictures in the world tell a story. Makes you think. Makes you wonder. The story it portrays may be different to everyone who looks at the photo, but it should nonetheless tell a story. Now Harry, I suspect you will listen the next time I'm talking, instead of doing work that wasn't given to you in this class, no matter how pretty you think the girl in your picture is. That would be greatly appreciated."

We spent the remainder of class, editing pictures that were already taken and saved onto each of the computers we were using. Astrid sitting on one side of me, asking me instead of the professor, how to do certain edits, and Harry on the other, complaining about how this assignment was 'too easy and such bullshit,' when he should be editing his own pictures instead. Once again, not hesitating to show off and be cocky.

I was happy when the class was over so I could head to the cafeteria to get some lunch. Much to my dismay, Harry followed me all the way there. He stood in line behind me after picking a sandwich and a drink, almost mimicking my every move, even paying with his meal card like I did. I stood in front of all the tables, looking for a place to sit and Harry stood next to me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, finally looking at him. He has a cheeky grin on his face and I can't help but role my eyes at him.

"Eating lunch with you," he laughs. "What does it look like?" He started walking away and without even thinking about it, my feet were following him.

I wasn't sure why I sat across from him at the table. I could have went to sit anywhere else. I wasn't planning on eating lunch with anyone. I was going to eat quickly and get to the phone store to change my number and do a little bit of shopping since I had the rest of the afternoon free of classes. But here I was, sitting across the table from the boy who made me feel uncomfortable this morning for some unknown reason.

"So, did I hit the nail on the head in class describing you?" He asks, taking a bite of his turkey sandwich.

"Nope!" There was no way he was going to know he was right. The last thing I need is for his ego to be even bigger. "I was just off this morning. First day jitters. I'm feeling better now."

"Liar," he stated, his green eyes piercing into mine. "Tell me. Why is it, that all the pretty ones lie?"

"I'm not lying."

"You didn't answer the question."

"How would I know?"

"You can't answer a question with a question."

"You're annoying."

I watch as Harry laughs at my pathetic insult. The way his dimples indent his cheeks perfectly and he shuts his eyes tight. His smile is bright and he looks so perfectly gorgeous, I wished my camera wasn't in my camera bag so I could capture this beautiful sight before me.

I didn't want to think of him this way. I didn't want to think of anyone this way. The last thing I wanted was to be attracted to someone, especially someone like him. Sure he seemed to have some nice qualities about him, but the other side to him, I could do without. But really, the last thing I wanted at all, was to be near someone as attractive as he is, knowing that I wouldn't and couldn't do anything about it.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. I tried to focus my attention elsewhere in the room, watching different people mingle, but I could feel Harry's eyes burning a hole in me.

"You didn't answer my question," he breaks the silence. "Why do all the pretty ones lie?"

"Maybe they don't want to lie, they just have to." That seems like a pretty legitimate answer to me. It was usually the reason I ever had to lie; because I had to for some dumb reason. Trying to hide the truth about my life, lying had become almost second nature. It had to be that way for a long time. No one would have ever understood the truth anyways. There were only two people in the world who ever knew the whole truth--my Dad and my therapist--and it was going to stay that way.

Harry sat back in his chair and studied me with furrowed eyebrows and his arms crossed. I can tell he's trying to figure me out. The funny thing is, I'm not going to let him.

I stood up from my chair. "I gotta go, but I'll meet you at the studio at seven tonight. Which one did you book?"

"Two," he answers, standing up as well. "Where are you going?"

He follows me out the doors of the cafeteria. "I just have some shit to do. I still have a Canadian number, so I have to change that, and I'm probably gonna do some shopping."

"You're from Canada?" Harry asks, surprise written all over his face. "So am I!"

"Really? I thought you were British?" I laugh. I thought his accent was a dead giveaway. I never would have pegged him to live in Canada or even the U.S before now. Boy was I wrong.

"Well, originally I'm from the UK, obviously, but we moved to Canada when I was fifteen," he tells me.

My phone starts ringing, interrupting our conversation. I don't have to look at it to know who it is, but I pull it out of my back pocket anyways to check. I slam my finger at the ignore button angrily, cursing as I miss it a few times before it finally stops playing Halsey.

I look over at Harry who has his eyebrows raised and his eyes popped at my sudden anger issues against my phone. I smile an embarrassed smile and I'm happy we finally made it to my car that's parked in the dorm's parking lot next to the school.

"Was it the same person as yesterday?" Harry asks as I put the keys in the door to unlock it.

"Yesterday?" I question, throwing my bags into the backseat. "Oh. Yesterday." I cringe, when I realize he probably over heard me yelling at Ryan on the phone. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. "Uh, yeah, same person. Just someone from back home. An old friend that I don't care to talk to anymore. And I wont have to after I get my number changed! Which is why I need to go now. So I don't have to hear from his stupid ass again!" I climb into the drivers seat of my light blue ford focus that I was more than happy my Dad bought me as a present for getting into college, and I rolled down the window before closing the door. "I'll see you at seven, Harry!"

Before Harry can even say anything else, I drive away, watching him stand in the parking lot through the rear view mirror, as he watches me drive away from him.

I spent the afternoon shopping by myself. Getting my number changed was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be and it put me in a good mood, knowing I'd never have to see Ryan's name pop up on my phone ever again. I could finally be rid of him for good and could move on completely, knowing that part of my life is now gone.

I decided that since it was so hot here compared to Vancouver, that I'd buy myself some new clothes. Before I did that though, I had to go and buy some make up to cover up my disgusting scars. I don't know how I got the idea to do it, I had never even thought of doing it before. And I was happy that the girl working at the store seemed nice enough to ask her what to use to cover them up. Her face fell only slightly when I showed her my arms and I could tell she was trying to hide any sort of judgement, but at this moment, I had to not care what she thought of me. I needed her to help me cover them so I wouldn't be sweating in long sleeved shirts all the time. Luckily, she was able to find what I needed and we made sure it covered them before I bought anything.

Seeing my scars covered for the first time gave me a new sense of confidence. I felt happier. Even though I knew they were still there, not being able to see them directly made me feel like a new person in my own skin. And so from there, it was easy to go and buy new clothes. Tank tops and cute dresses and any shirt without sleeves. I was ecstatic!

This, was exactly what I needed to make sure I wasn't the girl that Harry had described in class this morning. It was such a small thing, but it was definitely a start, and that's all I needed.

A/N: Sorry for the short update. I promise it gets better from here!
What do you think happened to Paisley in the past and who do you think Ryan is?
I want to say that I do not condone cutting, nor do I think it's right for anyone to do it, no matter what situation they are going through. Talking to someone is always a huge help!
Don't forget to press the star! I will love you forever if you do!!

Don't forget to add this to your reading list! I update frequently!

amberlove
xo