SDMN| Stories

• EMOTIONS | HARRY

HARRY COULD NEVER understand his emotions properly, no matter how clear they appeared to be. Whether there was a smile plastered on his face, or tears rolling down his cheeks, he was never really sure how he was feeling. It was stupid though, everyone knows themselves enough to be able to portray their feelings correctly, right?

On multiple occasions he would be told, "Harry, you're sad, what's wrong?" or "Why are you so happy?" and truth be told, he couldn't answer. He just didn't know.

So today, anxiety ridden and sweaty, he had no idea why he was smiling so much as he stood outside his new school. Perhaps it was a fake smile, so he could appear friendly, or that he was happy to be there, but neither of those options appealed as real to him.

It's not like he didn't want to be there, because he was sure he didn't mind, it was more the fact that there was always going to be somewhere else he would rather be. He'd rather be at his old school with the Cals, his two best friends, maybe even his only friends. Leaving them behind was something he didn't want to do, they helped him so much with a lot of life's aspects, and he was comfortable with them. Comfortable enough to be the awkward, clumsy, energetic 16-year-old that made people laugh. The Cals understood him, and that's one of the things he would miss most about them.

He didn't know if he could make such good friends at Crestwood High, a school fancier than his beloved one at Guernsey. This London school was known for its academic and sporting achievements, home to some of England's athletes. Standards Harry wasn't sure he could live up to, and therefore had no idea why his parents had enrolled him here. But nevertheless, he still stood outside the gates, awe glistening through the pale blue of his eyes.

Even the bell was different as it carried more of a chime than a shrill ring, alerting the students to make their way to class. His first class was, to his demise, maths. Math wasn't something he particularly liked, but was surprisingly good in. He supposed staying at home a lot paid off in something, no matter how much his parents deemed it "unhealthy." Surely grade 11 set 1 mathematics wasn't a place to make friends, but he assumed there was time for that later on.

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It was only as he was walking into the senior dining hall that he realised just how large this school was. A lot of the tables were already full, students clumped together in groups based on god knows what, everyone chattering and eating away. They all looked so relaxed, normal and so in place. After noting this, Harry relaxed his broad shoulders in a hope to appear less tense, and flittered his eyes across the wide space.

He had packed his own lunch, in fear that the food here wasn't very good, or something like that he told himself. However, the vending machines placed to the side of the room proved he needn't have worried too much. A smile still hung loosely on his face, and he began walking, going anywhere just to avoid awkwardly standing any longer. He noticed a table towards the back of the room with only two people on it and decided that he could make that work.

The blazer felt heavy, almost suppressing his shoulders as he sat down quietly at the edge of the table, part of him hoping nobody notices his presence. He unzipped his bag before he heard a voice.

"Hey man. Haven't seen you around last year."

A boy who sat almost opposite him said. He was darker skinned, his hair was short, standing straight up from his head, and his uniform was just the white button-up and black shorts. Harry felt overdressed in his new blazer, tie and dress pants, but shrugged it off the best he could.

"Well, I just moved here actually. Uh, it's Harry." He awkwardly stuck out his hand to the boy across the table, meaning he had to get up and lean over to do so.