Wednesday the 2nd of September | Harry
Harry was still half asleep leaning on the door frame of the classroom, looking at the time on his phone. It was three thirty-eight. The tutoring session was supposed to begin a few minutes ago. He had never tutored someone before (if you didn't count letting people ahum Liam copy his notes) and he wasn't sure how it would work out. Was he supposed to be like a second teacher or was it more of an after school study group kind of situation?
He sighed, staring at the ticking clock and weighing his options. He could wait in the hallway forever (and then get locked up by the concierge and have to spend the night at school. Cozy.) or ditch the lad. It wouldn't technically be ditching considering he was the one to be late in the first place. He was about to leave, going with the second choice, as he heard footsteps approaching, echoing through the corridor.
Harry turned around, already feeling like his patience was being tested. Louis was casually walking, not even ashamed that he wasn't on time for their very first tutoring session.
"You're late mate," he said, praying he wasn't going to regret his teacher's offer, because Louis had thrown his jacket on the floor and was already rolling his eyes.
"Don't do that thing where you rhyme everything, it's so annoying. No one likes that." He closed his eyes and rubbed the skin above his eyebrows with his fingertips, like it had actually hurt him.
"Well no one likes tardy people either so I guess we're even," Harry shot back innocently.
Louis looked defeated for a split second, debating on whether Harry had proved a point.
"Alright, let's get this over with." He sauntered to the desk next to Harry's, throwing his books on there and looking like he really didn't want to be there. He mentally sighed: he'd only been in the presence of this lad for half a minute, and he was already wondering what Miss Falcon's reaction would be if he asked her for a tutor fee.
"O. Yes, sure. Let's start with some simple equations, which are just like a base. What about you just do 1, let's say 'g'." His own politeness was annoying him.
After some more silent protesting, the other boy finally opened his book, occasionally writing stuff down and chewing on his pencil.
After a few minutes, Harry looked over the older boy's shoulder to check how he was doing. As his nose entered Louis' personal space, he couldn't help but notice his mixture of smells: apples, soap, sun with a hint of ginger and something else he wasn't able to pinpoint.
The paper on his desk was still completely white apart from a small sentence in the middle: 'maths = fucking stinky.'
In the corner of the paper, he'd drawn a little stick man hitting – what he assumed was – a Falcon with a large bat.
Louis seemed to have a good sense of humor, which was always nice. Harry found himself wondering if he had to try to be funny, or if it came naturally. He figured it was probably the second one, which he was sour about because he himself was only capable of making a decent pun once in a while.
"I like the... um- the drawing," he complimented, unable to stop the giggle from escaping, covering his mouth with his hand.
Louis' eyes widened, like he couldn't believe Harry's reaction. His overall appearance and behaviour had been a little off putting, but looking in his eyes, Harry decided they were kind. He figured he would try to give this tutoring thing a fair go.
"Let's do this for real though, you're stuck here anyways so why waste the opportunity." He was starting to feel like Nanny Mc Phee and if Louis didn't start being serious about this soon, he would act like her, too!
Louis looked like he had some answers ready but Harry leaned over Louis' desk, took the pencil from behind his ear and began solving the occasion explaining every step as he went.
"How come I am explaining this to you anyway? Haven't you followed this course a trillion times already?" Harry asked, while eyeing him cheekily.
Louis clicked his tongue, writing down the first equation. "Two times." He didn't seem to mind too much that Harry was laughing at him.
Harry lifted one eyebrow and looked at the other boy in amazement. He couldn't imagine doing so badly in school that he had to repeat his year twice. "That's actually impressive! How did you manage that?"
"Well the first time was my fault, unfortunately," he explained. "I went out almost every school night. I remember sitting in class, not knowing what lesson it was. Good times, good times." His eyes drifted away for a moment, as if dreaming.
Harry shot him an awkward smile, not knowing exactly what to say next as he couldn't relate to this in the slightest. He felt almost ashamed of his grades from last year.
Louis seemed ashamed as well, he observed. He had his head bent over his desk again, pretending to solve some more maths equations, his ears a bit red.
Harry tried to picture him getting drunk in clubs and doing a bunch of illegal stuff. But while subtly studying the features of the boy who was tapping his pen on his notebook in nerving rhythms, he realized it was difficult to imagine him being that way. Of course you shouldn't have stereotypes of party-addicts, but Louis certainly didn't fit the type. Maybe it was the oversized t-shirt that hung loosely on his shoulders, exposing some skin near the collarbone, his kind blue eyes, or his weirdly fluffy-looking hair, but Louis didn't look like the kind of person who partied a lot. It just didn't add up. If anything, he looked more like the antisocial kind of type. Well, that could also be because Harry was making things awkward.
People changed over the years, didn't they? They shifted personalities, collecting a bunch of them and throwing others away. Harry noticed from his own experience that the people he hung out with had a huge impression on him. He had taken over quite a few words and like movements from his friends in the past years. For example, he unintentionally copied Zayn's eyebrow wiggle a lot, some Niall's weird Irish slang was part of his vocabulary even though he had no idea what any of the words meant, and he had stolen all of his sister's disgusting food combinations (like radishes with chocolate spread, and toast with whipped cream). The point was; a lot could change over the years, and the people around you had great impacts on you.
All the while all of these thoughts were crossing his mind, he was watching Louis flutter with his lashes. He didn't know why he was still looking at him. All he knew was that he found Louis to be annoying, first of all, but also kind of mesmerizing (something he would never admit to anyone) and that he had a hard time looking away from him.
His brain was so extremely slow today, possibly because it was the second school day. Or maybe he was slowly being hypnotized by Louis' eyelashes?
Ok, he should really get some school work done now. Louis looked captivated by his assignment, so it was the perfect time to do his chemistry homework.
He opened his book, took his favourite coloured marker out and attempted to read the text. Although... he didn't seem to get passed the title. A specific thought wouldn't leave his head.
Something about the timeline didn't make sense. Louis said he had failed this year twice but had only given an explanation for the first time.
"What about the second one?" The question escaped his mouth before he could do any thinking. Great, he'd made a fool of himself again.
But he didn't have time to be embarrassed. Not in the slightest because of the way Louis reacted.
He looked up from the textbook. Where only three seconds ago, there had been a (cute) wrinkle of concentration on his face, now, there was a worried one. His face was completely pale, drained of all colour and his eyes, frantically staring in Harry's, were wide with fear.
The first thought that came into his head was that Louis sure had an arsenal of different facades.
The next was that something was very wrong.
"The second... equation? Have you got it?"
It was lame, but it was the only excuse he could think of that fast.
Louis's shoulders untensed in a flash of a second, although he still looked like he was on edge. He seemed very relieved that Harry was asking him about maths and not about his personal life.
Note to self, Harry thought. Don't bring his personal life into this!
Louis showed him the equations he already solved and Harry checked them, concentrating on not blushing from embarrassment. A few silent minutes passed and it was so quiet that, when the door flung open dramatically, both of them startled.
"Hi boys," Liam said cheerfully.
"I heard there was a tutoring lesson going on here and was wondering if I could join in. I could really use some of Harry's assistance." His chocolate eyes didn't seem to notice that the tension in the room could've been cut with a knife.
He just took the chair next to Louis, who seemed relieved he was no longer the only victim, and unpacked his textbooks.
Liam smiled at him, expecting him to explain the maths. He blinked his eyes for a few seconds, trying to take in what just happened. Then rambled some words: "Do you wanna like- uh... do one yourself or shall I do one first as you know... an example or something?" He didn't even know what he was saying but Liam nodded in complete agreement.
Harry had given both of the boys some equations to solve, while he did his homework in silence.
He was pretty sure neither of them were still paying attention as he could hear them tapping their fingers on their phones, occasionally exchanging a few words.
Then out of nowhere Liam jumped up: "Niall's at the park with Carl. Wanna come too, Louis?"
Harry looked at him, admiring his way of making it sound so spontaneous and sweet.
"Are you asking me out on a date, Liam?" He asked provocatively, eyes still glued to his phone.
Liam chuckled. Talking quicker than lightning, he said: "It's more embarrassing than that I'm afraid: I'm just finding excuses to go to the park these days."
Louis looked up from his phone, eyebrows in a confused frown.
Harry stood up and put his elbow on Liam's shoulder.
"Liam's a bit of an ice cream addict." He whispered to the older boy.
Louis laughed softly and Harry was secretly proud of the small victory.
"Sounds dangerous." The little smile was still playing on his lips and Harry couldn't stop looking at it.
"It bloody is." Liam cried. Then he told them about the time he ate one in the doctor's office and they nearly threw him out for dripping on the carpets.
Harry made a weird laughing noise he quickly covered up with his hand.
Louis just nodded at the other boy's words, seemingly amused.
All of a sudden he held up his hands in front of his face. "See that?" Harry had no idea where he was supposed to be looking. Louis' fingers were short and slender. He also noticed he wore a simple pink band around his wrist.
"You're a nail biter, huh?" Liam's question brought him back into reality.
"Trying to quit," he said, grinning and going with the 'addict joke thing', which Harry wasn't sure he found funny.
"C'mon now, my hands are beginning to shake." Liam whined, only half-joking.
Harry threw his bag over his shoulders. He kept smiling brightly when the three of them walked out of school together.
As they were approaching Niall and the Australian cattle, Carl– the park was a short 5-minute walk away from school– they saw that Alice was there too, holding Carl's collar in her left hand and Niall's hand in her right.
Harry couldn't remember the last time he had seen Niall without her: they seemed to be really in love, wanting to spend every second together; like two peas in a pod.
Without wanting to, he thought about Louis. What about the second one? To put it lightly, he felt very stupid to have asked him a question like that.
He didn't even know what he was thinking when he asked that. The question was way too personal, obviously. But like, what could have happened that was so much more embarrassing than sitting in class half drunk? Nothing, right?
Second thing: why was he still thinking about a boy he'd only really known for a day? That tutoring session would be the first of many, and if Harry couldn't control himself to not ask questions that were clearly off-limit, a lot of it was going to be very uncomfortable.
Liam quickly hugged the couple before running towards the ice cream booth. Harry followed him, leaving Louis by Niall's side. He was hoping to fill his body with the sweet, cold stuff to overpower the strange shame that was present in every inch of his body.
It kinda helped for a bit. Liam was right about one thing: it was delicious.
The rest of the day they spent sauntering around the loan, chatting, petting Carl (who loved the attention) and eating ice cream. It was a hot summer afternoon and Harry could feel the sun burning in his neck, he wished he had put on shorts instead of his long trousers.
Niall put a hand on his elbow. "Wanna get another one of those to cool you down, H? You seem hot." He asked, pointing his finger towards the ice cream booth.
He shook his head. Niall always was the first one to notice when something was wrong, even before his mum could.
"Ok then. You know you can always talk to me, yes? Even about something– uh stupid."
He hesitated. He really wanted to let go of the snapping feeling, but by telling Niall, he would admit to himself that there was something goin on. And nothing was going on! So he just said he felt a bit tired, but it was nothing to worry about. Niall accepted that answer, still looking a bit worried (he was always too bloody worried) and mixed himself up in the conversation again.
Liam, Alice and now Niall too were convincing Louis to go to some party Zayn was throwing next week. The boy seemed comfortable with them; feeding a happy Carl pieces of his cone, asking all the right questions and even smiling sometimes.
Harry remembered how tense he seemed an hour ago.
"What about the second one?"
For the twentieth time that day, he could hit himself for asking Louis that question. Clearly it was none of his business, since they were basically strangers.
As the sun burned on his skin and many more liters of ice cream were consumed, he was trying to listen to the things his friends were laughing about, but he couldn't help but feel lonely, although surrounded by the people who cared for him most in the world.
Except for Louis, of course.