Harry's POV
"So, what are the specific requirements for this assignment exactly?" I asked, leaning against one of the boring, wooden student desks that were scattered throughout the room in a nice alignment. Liam stayed by the door, as he said he would, although instead this time he was listening intently to the conversation between Mrs. Hatheway and I.

Mrs. Hatheway reached for the sheet of paper that was still in my hands, and I handed it back to her. She hummed in thought to herself, her eyes skimming over the paragraph description that I didn't bother to read thoroughly.

She cleared her throat, before reciting clearly. "Meet a pen pal that lives out of the country, and as you converse with them through email/messaging, take notice to how that person acts. Describe his/her life and how they may of may not have affected yours. Keep in mind; be safe when chatting with people on the internet."

I nodded. That couldn't be so hard, could it? But the only question is- who would be my 'pen pal' partner?

"Just to abide by the school rules, I will need the name of your pen pal partner and the country she or he is from." She assessed, and I nodded as I listened to each of the rules. "You can have a few days to get started by finding your pen pal partner. Just remember- be safe, and don't give out too much personal information. The point of this project is not only to learn more about different cultures and people, but to also stay safe while conversing on the internet with people you may possibly never meet in life. The due date will be the week before spring break lets out. So, the beginning of April."

So that gives me three months to converse with this pen pal I still have yet to find.

"Yes, ma'am." I spoke with a small smile, readjusting my book-bag on my back. She nodded, taking a few notes before grabbing the excuse passes, asking Liam and I both where we were headed off to next.

"Thanks, Mrs. Hatheway." I spoke, just to be polite, as Liam and I took the passes and headed out of the classroom and into the empty hallways. Class had to have started ten minutes ago by now.

"How are you going to find your pen pal?" Liam asked out of curiosity as we kept a slow pace in the hallway, both not excited to head off to our next class. I had Chemistry, while Liam had Physics.

"I don't know, honestly." I let out a soft groan, running my hand through my mop of curls. Maybe I should've went with Julius Caesar. "I only have the next couple days to figure it out."

"I think I know someone that could help you out, mate." Liam spoke up, although he seemed very hesitant about what he was about to share. My eyebrows raised questioningly, and in interest. "Really? Who?"

"Well.." Liam trailed off, before letting out a small sigh. "He's my best friend. Has been for as long as I can remember. He's staying over in America for college schooling, but he grew up here in England. 'M sure he'd love to help you out."

"Could you talk to him? Ask him for me?" I gave him a look of hope. This could be the fine line of if I walk across that stage or not in June, and earn my diploma.

"Yeah, sure." Liam smiled over at me before narrowing his eyes at me in defense. "Just know he's my best friend. And you aren't replacing that spot between us."

My hands raised in defense, the blue excuse pass clutched in my right hand. "Woah there, tiger. No need to worry. I only need the good grade."

Liam once again looked hesitant, but nodded as we came up towards the physics room where Liam's next class would be. "I'll call tonight and talk to him about it. Hopefully he picks up. Timezones are a bitch."

I nod with a chuckle, giving Liam a small wave before continuing to walk down the hallway towards the Chemistry lab.

-

School passed by the rest of the day with a drag, the occasional hallway high school pushing and the latest gossip spreading like wildfire on how Skylar Claire was pregnant and didn't know who the baby daddy was. (I personally think it's David Parker's kid, but that's just my opinion)

When the final bell rang, I couldn't have been more relieved.

I headed out to the student parking lot, pulling my car keys out of my jacket pocket. Unlocking the door to my car, I slipped inside of the vehicle and put the keys in the ignition, the car roaring to life. The vehicle was a Chevy Cruse, so it wasn't too bad. It got me around town, and that's all that mattered.

The worst thing about driving to school? Is leaving school at the end of the day, or unless you have 'senior privileges' where you get out early. With my grades, you can bet your sweet ass I don't have any sort of privileges.

The traffic was usually terrible. Plenty of other student driver's were parked in the parking lot, filing out of the area one by one. Although, the damn yellow buses sure knew how to take their sweet ole' time, and they were the modes of transportation that were allowed to leave the school first.

I knew there was something about the underclassmen I didn't like.

-

As soon as I arrived back home, what I expected came at me. And that was my parents stressing about my report card and where it had been.

"Uh, they didn't come in yet." I lied smoothly, but the look on my mother's face told me she didn't buy it one bit.

"Harry, how stupid do you think we are? Gemma's report card came in today, so we know for sure your's did, too." My mother narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she practically stared me down intently.

Gemma was my younger sister, who was still in middle school, eighth grade to be exact. I loved her to death, but since she was the youngest she was the favored child. But that's usually expected in most families anyways.

I let out a huff, slinging my book-bag off of my shoulder and letting it sit on the kitchen table carelessly as I unzipped the bag. I dug past my binders and folders, eventually finding the now crumbled up orange envelope that held my failure of grades inside.

My mother shook her head at the condition of the envelope, holding her hand out for it, which I reluctantly handed to her. She opened up the crippled envelope, pulling out the white slip of paper that was in just as bad of condition.

Her eyes scanned over the letters and numbers, and that was when it came. "Harold Edward Styles, what did I tell you about keeping up with your grades?"

I sighed as I leaned against the counter, my step-father taking the paper as well and letting his eyes wander over the page. "Harry, this isn't tolerable." He spoke sternly with a shake of the head.

Robin and my mother got married when I was at a very young age. I guess you could say I grew up with Robin most of my life, so I would consider him as my actual father rather than one just because of a marriage certificate with a few verified signatures. 

"I know it looks bad, but-" My mother cut me off. "No buts, Harry! You've been slacking all school year, and you told us you'd keep up with your grades. I told you; bad grades, means no car."

"Mrs. Hatheway said I have to do an extra credit assignment to improve my grade enough to graduate this year." I explained in a rush before I could be yet again cut off.

"Mrs. Hatheway? Your English teacher?" My mother asked, and I nodded in response as I lifted my still open back-bag up off the kitchen table, slinging it back over my shoulder. "Yes. She's making it mandatory since I'm failing the class for the year."

Both of my parents looked hesitant, before my mum spoke up with a sigh, "Alright. As long as you walk across that bloody stage this year and earn your diploma. But if I hear about you slacking again, I won't hesitate to take away your keys until I see your grades back on track again."

"I know, I know. I've heard this lecture about three, four times today by now." I huffed, ruffling my curls lazily with my hand. "May I be excused? I have to head to work soon."

My mother nodded, shooing me away aimlessly with her hand as she chuckled. "Yes, you may go." I turned and walked out of the kitchen, heading down the hallway and towards the staircase. Well, that went smoother than I thought it would.

No, my mother wasn't always this strict. She is honestly a pretty 'laid back' parent, but was strict when it came time to being so. Like now, for instance.

Walking into my bedroom, I tossed the back-pack onto my bed carelessly, removing my leather jacket from around my shoulders and draping it over my desk chair.

Deciding on doing my homework later on tonight (hopefully), I grabbed a fresh t-shirt and simple pair of skinny jeans for work down at the bakery later, heading into the bathroom across the hallway.

I took a quick shower, letting the warm water envelope my body as I washed my hair. Letting out a sigh, I couldn't help but think over this bloody extra credit assignment that could determine the rest of my schooling years.

What if this kid Liam said he'd talk to for me ends up being a total freakshow? If I'm going to befriend someone for three whole months, I want them to at least be decent, or even tolerable. What if he was one of those frat college boys that thought they were complete tough shit?

After ten minutes of my thoughts consuming my brain to the point where my head began to hurt, I huffed and stepped out of the shower, wrapping the white towel around myself as I dried the water droplets off my my torso and legs.

I quickly changed into the fresh clothes that I had picked out, towel drying my hair and letting the curls fall in their normal, voluminous state.

My shift at the bakery started around five, and it was only a little past four thirty. The bakery was thankfully only a ten minute drive from my house.

Deciding on an early start, I grabbed my phone off of my nightstand as well as my car keys. When I walked back downstairs, my mother was still in the kitchen. "I'm heading out, mum."

She lifted her gaze away from the stove top, where she was preparing dinner. "Okay, love. I'll have a plate set for you once you get back."

I nodded and gave her a smile, before heading out of the front door while swinging my keys in my hand.

The bakery was a small restaurant, but was pretty successful when it came to budget and service. The main reason I had gotten the job was because the owner is close friends with my mother; Barbara and her had grown up together when they were younger.

"Honey, I'm home!" I called out playfully as I walked through the front doors of the bakery, Barbara standing at the cash register as she served one of the customers. She looked over as she heard the small bell above the door, as well as my voice.

"Sorry about him," She chuckled, shaking her head and focusing her attention back on the customer who was in the middle of getting her order taken. "Okay, so a chocolate chip muffin with a cappuccino?"

I smiled and walked around behind the counter, walking to the back room where I grabbed one of the aprons I was required to wear.

"Harry, you're a big doof, y'know that?" Barbara grinned, tucking the notepad into the pocket of her apron as she moved over to the shelves lined up with assorted muffins and other pastries. "Make the cappuccino, would ya?"

I gave her a dimpled grin while nodding and moving over to the coffee machine, where I proceeded to whip up a cappuccino for the waiting customer.

The entire time of my shift, I was sincerely hoping that Li would be able to find me my pen pal.

-

Vote for Chapter Four.
-a