Chapter 2: Kings

3.2K 126 41
                                    

 "Absolutely not." Louis stared at the uniform laid out on the bed, a grimace creeping up onto his face. The button-down and black tie were bad enough as it was, but the khakis were completely uncalled for.

Liam snorted. "I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice. And we all wear it, so it's really not that big of a deal."

Louis pouted, reluctantly grabbing the clothes. "Fine, I'll wear the horrid clothes. Where did you say the bathroom was?"

"You can just change here, I'm going down to get breakfast. I'll see you downstairs," Liam called over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him.

Louis' old school did not have a uniform. They didn't have stiff dress shirts that were probably too itchy or ties that could choke you if you just so happened to pull too tight. This whole ordeal was a complete mess, and Louis couldn't help wishing this had never happened. He just wanted to go back to Rose High, where his friends threw crumpled notes at each other across the room and knew exactly what kind of jokes to make at the right times. They were probably messing around in the music room now, all clad in jeans and comfortable T-shirts.

With a frustrated sigh, Louis pulled off his pajama shirt and started buttoning up the new shirt, which confirmed his fears. Not wanting to feel the constant threat of suffocation on top of the itchy long-sleeve, he loosened the tie's knot until it was practically hanging off his chest. He shrugged, figuring a small break in the dress code wouldn't kill him. He pulled on his trousers, which were just a little too tight for comfort. But he was most definitely not about to ask someone for bigger pants, and it's not like they were impossible to move around in. If anything, they just hugged his thighs a little too much for his liking. But they fit well around his waist and knees, so he assumed the size was right.

He shoved his notebooks and a handful of pencils in his bag, slinging it around his shoulder before stopping at the bathroom to brush his teeth and fix his air. He was never hungry in the mornings, so breakfast wasn't really on his list. He always had a snack in his bag just in case, but he rarely touched it before lunch.

After making sure his hair was properly pushed to the side, fixing a few wisps here and there, he trotted down the stairs. To his mild surprise, the house was just as chaotic as when he'd arrived the day before. There were handfuls of the parents who weren't out on patrol fixing their kids' collars or force-feeding them scrambled eggs, cliques of teenagers were scarfing down pancakes or bowls of fruit, and absolutely everybody was all invested in different conversations.

Louis made his way over to Liam, who was downing a glass of orange juice.

"Hey, how do we get to school? Don't tell me we're all supposed to go together." He could already imagine a group of dozens of children all marching to school like the members of some obscure cult.

Liam laughed and shook his head. "No, we've all got our own rides. I have my car so you can come with me if you want. I think Gemma's taking your sisters so it works out."

Louis grinned and nodded. "Perfect."

Liam cocked an eyebrow at him. "Don't you want to eat something first?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Not unless you want me to projectile vomit onto your windshield."

"Ack, got it."

Once Liam was done, they were quick to hop out into his car. It was a white BMW with pristine seats and a polished dashboard. It smelled like new car, and Louis was hesitant to put his hands anywhere lest he stain it with his fingerprints.

"Wow, you really love your car," he mumbled.

Liam nodded proudly as he turned on the engine and pulled out of the house's driveway. "I worked for ages to get enough money for it. My parents helped out and all but I was even able to sell some of my pastel drawings. Obviously they weren't worth that much, but it still felt nice, you know? Like I was one of the people that worked for it."

I'll Be Loving YouМесто, где живут истории. Откройте их для себя