Reason To Be (A Zouis Family AU)

Part Three, Chapter Three

But the option of not having anything at all? It sends his mind into some sort of overdrive and he swallows down the lump in his throat.

He supposed he could always ask his parents for some money. Just a couple of pounds, and then he'll probably be able to find the remaining pennies somewhere.

But how stupid will he look going into school with a pocket full of coins like he's just emptied out his piggy bank. He grimaced at the thought.

The others already think of him as a kid, and he is, he knows that. But with his height and his stupid baby face, they act like he's a literal child just like everyone else does and he isn't a child. He's thirteen.

And sure, okay, maybe Harry had been at summer camp and doing kid things at thirteen; and maybe Liam had too. But that doesn't mean he's doing anything wrong by acting more...mature (lord knows he's always been anything but).

His door knocks and he flinches, shoving his phone beneath his pillow in a way that makes him want to roll his eyes at himself for being so paranoid.

Harry opens the door and smiles at him, clearly having forgotten biting at him the day before.

Of course he's forgotten, Niall thinks to himself, because it isn't a big deal and you're just overreacting.

"Li and Em are here. Dad's making lunch," he says, and Niall smiles back with ease.

The smile stays on his face when Liam ruffles his hair and makes some dumb comment about his height like he always does, and it stays there when he lies to Papa about how his studying went the night before, spewing some BS about Romeo and Juliet and the odd thing he can remember from his English class. (And he smiles rather than wincing when he remembers the letter and the reading that he still hasn't done, but he forgets about it soon enough anyway).

And his smile grows when he makes up a story about the Harvest Festival coming up at school and how they're being asked to take in some change for the homeless shelters or something, only for Dad to hand him a scrunched up note and tell him to buy some tins on the way to school for the shelters instead.

And yeah, he feels guilty for it - he isn't a robot, he has emotions.

But the thought of having such a clear head again really just counteracts that.

He doesn't really mean to end up high in class the following day, it just sort of happens. One minute he had been smoking behind the bike sheds with the guys from the party that weekend, and the next the bell had been ringing and soon enough, he finds himself slumping down in the chair beside Luke at the back of his history class.

His eyes feel heavy and tired but his mind is just so...awake.
And not in the way that it's usually awake; when it's all racing thoughts and jittery leg movements and constant messing around to make everyone else laugh because there's this selfish part of him that he really hates that wants to make sure that he isn't the only one who isn't doing the work.

No, this is a different kind of alive.
It's in the moment, focusing on every breath that he takes just because he can. It's feeling every second move by so slowly but not in a way that makes him wish time would speed up. He finds himself able to pay attention as Mr Jessop speaks to them all, and for the first time ever, he actually understands the work that is given to them when the papers are handed out.

He smiles to himself, resting his chin on his upturned hand and reading over the question. It's so crystal clear in his mind.
He doesn't have to read it ten time over for it to make sense to him.

He grins loosely at Luke beside him. "Got a pen I can borrow?" He asks, and his best friend nods, handing him a chewed up biro. "I actually know how to do this one."