*Holly's P.O.V*
"Alright now, let's try that again!" The band director ordered, raising his baton. All of us sighed and tiredly obliged. We'd been working on this one piece for the entire class duration, and I'm pretty sure if I heard the beginning one more time, I'm going to run away until the cows come home. Niall didn't look so thrilled either, but he complied to the teacher's command.
While the trombones were struggling through their part, Niall leaned in closer to me, and whispered, "I can't wait until this guy retires." I giggled and nodded, and he grinned upon making me smile. The director cut us a warning glare, and we acted like nothing happened. The triumphant swell of the piece was totally ruined by the clarinets' squeaking and the trumpets blasting too loud. The teacher sighed once we'd finally finished, and he reluctantly dismissed us. Everyone heaved a groan of relief, and began to pack up their instruments.
"So, is our lunch date still on?" Niall teasingly asked. I laughed, rolling my eyes.
"One, it's not a date; it's a lesson, and two, if you want it to be," I replied, matching his smirk.
"Of course, but I was thinking that we could do it before lunch."
"No problem," I said, standing up and waiting for Niall. He finished packing up his guitar and held out his hand like before.
"Shall we head on over?" He asked, putting on a fake British accent. I laughed, taking his hand.
"Stick to being Irish– it suits you more," I teased, and he chuckled.

We quickly stopped by our lockers before informing the others we'd meet up with them later. After I'd smacked Louis' head for making a perverted remark, Niall led me out to the courtyard where we'd played football yesterday, except he took me to a more secluded part near the gardens.
"Just so nobody can make fun of us," he assured me. I laughed, taking in the sweet smell and the crisp air. While I explored the new stone surroundings, he bent over a bush, and plucked out a pale pink plumeria. Calling me over, he resumed his posture, and gently tucked the fragrant flower into my hair. I smiled at his sweetness, and he shyly returned it. Clearing his throat, he offered his hand out.
"First thing, you gotta be graceful. That means no stepping on my toes," he chuckled as I held his hand and rested the other on his shoulder. He cautiously wrapped his other hand around my waist, and started humming a waltz.
"One two three, two two three, one two three, two two three. . ." he broke off in concentration, and we lightly stepped around the stone floor. Birds above us chattered as we deftly floated across the stone steps. Niall raised his right hand and gracefully twirled me around. I laughed while my hair slightly billowed out around me. He spun me back into his arms, and he held me against his chest –I'm pretty sure I heard his heart furiously beating. We swayed back and forth for a little while, and everything felt so peaceful.
"And then you finish with a. . ." he graciously dipped me, and we held the position.
"Wow," I breathed, and he smiled, straightening.
"That was. . . nice," he added, letting go of my hand.
"Thanks," I said.
"No problem. Actually, I think it was kinda fun," he admitted as the both of us went up the steps to the building.

He opened the door for me, and he followed me in. I felt warm and tingly inside, like what had just happened was a scene out of a super-sappy chick flick or something. I gingerly touched the plumeria Niall had implanted in the locks of hair that framed my face. He noticed my action, and smiled. We quickly grabbed our trays and picked out the food we wanted.
"Over here!" Louis loudly called, standing up on the bench and waving madly, attracting the attention of almost everyone in the cafeteria. I groaned, embarrassed. Niall chuckled at me, and we sat down.
"Oh my gosh! I see a flower! What'd he do?" Louis eagerly asked, leaning in super close over the table and near my tray. I playfully swatted his head away.
"Chill it, Tommo. Your hair's getting in my lasagna." He pouted, but sat back.
"Now, spill all the details," he ordered. I laughed, picking up my fork. The Irishman to my right just rolled his eyes.

"Well, we went near the gardens in the courtyard, then he–" I was cruelly cut off by the feeling of ice-cold water dumped on my head, followed by a plateful of lasagna. I gasped, the chilly liquid seeping in through my jacket and into my shirt. I jumped out of my seat, and was face to face with a smirking Melissa. The entire cafeteria was laughing, and Melissa's posse was cackling while their leader smugly took in my appearance. Niall, Liam, Harry, Louis, and Zayn leaped up and tried to dry me with some napkins. Niall flicked the noddles out of my hair, and Harry attempted to wipe the sauce out.
"What was that for?" I snapped.
"I heard about your little date," she retorted.
"And?" That warm feeling from before was gone, now replaced with the reality of icy water. She leaned in close to my ear, menacingly whispering, "He's mine." She left with a sashay and a harsh laugh. I stood there, the liquid dripping down my hair.

Waving away the boys, I stormed off into the girl's bathroom. Muttering under my breath, I yanked out about a dozen paper towels and patted my hair. I groaned after seeing my reflection. The marinara sauce was splattered everywhere, including the flower Niall'd given me, and my jacket and shirt were stained.
I dabbed a wet paper towel on the flower, determined to save it. Luckily, the faint sauce marks went away, and I sighed in relief. Focusing on the jacket and jeans, I ran the other towels under the running facet, and after five minutes of vigorous scrubbing, the stains faded away.
"Finally," I muttered, throwing the used towels in the trash can before exiting the bathroom.