Reason To Be (A Zouis Family AU)

Part Three, Chapter Three

Luke frowns at him in an amused sort of way, eyes scanning over him for a moment. "Okay...you seem happy," he says, and Niall shrugs easily.

"Oh yeah. I am," he admits truthfully.

He's never been better because he can feel the sun filtering into his back from the window behind him, he can feel the high running through his veins and his legs aren't bouncing under the desk. They're still and so is everything else and god, this is all he's wanted for so long.

He puts pen to paper and doesn't lift it until the bell is ringing again. Mr Jessop does a double take when he slips Niall's paper from his desk, eyes grazing over the lines of scribbled handwriting a couple of time before he raises an eyebrow at Niall.

"I'm marking these over lunch. I'm not going to find out that you two have written the exact same answer, am I?" He asks, gesturing from Niall to Luke.

Luke frowns as if prepared to argue with the man, but Niall just grins loosely because he's about eighty-three or more percent certain that there's nothing that can put a damper on this amazing mood of his. The remaining weed in his pocket is like a treasure, and he wants more of it if it means he can feel this way forever.

"Not unless I'm a psychic, Sir," he replies, clapping a hand on the man's shoulder as he passes him by and watching the surprised expression with amusement before he leaves the room.

Luke catches him up with his own brows raised. "You wrote, like, twice the amount I did, dude," he states, and Niall scoffs lightly.

"Don't sound so surprised," he says; even though he knows he should probably be hurt because everyone he knows just assumes he's thick because he doesn't do the work when that isn't the case.

He knows exactly what he's capable and the weed is helping him to show everyone else too; so his mood remains uplifted.

Luke rolls his eyes. "That's not what I mean. Just...you never usually write more than a few sentences," he says slowly, and Niall doesn't answer, just frowns loosely at his friend and waits for the subject to change.

But it doesn't. Luke goes on and in about that stupid history paper until Niall just huffs and goes off to find his new friends instead so he can chill with them all lunch. He doesn't need anyone trying to bring him down when he feels as good as he does right now.

And before he leaves school that day - at normal time because apparently being so relaxed all day doesn't lead to a stream of detentions for the following week - Mr Jessop stops him with an impressed look and hands him his paper back. The man doesn't say anything before he's walking away, and Niall frowns down at his work before that grin slowly but surely creeps back up into his face.

B- is scrawled at the top, and sure, it's nothing compared to the grades his older brothers have always achieved, but it's better than he ever gets. Keep up the good work, is noted beneath the grade and he smiles to himself.

Yeah. He will, there's no way he's letting this slip away from him now. He doesn't care how much he has to pay each week for more - it's worth it.

James appears from seemingly nowhere behind him then, clapping a hand on his back heavily before snatching the paper from his hands.

"A B!" He exclaims, before scruffing up Niall's hair playfully so that they're both laughing as Niall grabs his paper back. "No way! Wait a minute -"

The boy grabs him by the shoulders and bends down slightly to peer at his face. He still can't seem to open his eyes fully and they're a little sore, but the sun is out today and most people are squinting. He suffers from hay fever anyway. It's an easy cover story.

Another easy lie.

James' looks amused. "You're fuckin' blazed, man," he hisses, and Niall glances around in paranoia before he shakes his head quickly and shoves his older friend lightly.

"Dude! Shut up," he whispers, but James just laughs and hooks an arm around his neck.

"My little fiend Ni, finally growing up. You know if you wanted to be a pothead then you shoulda just said. My brother has a tonne at home, I can score you a shitload," he says, and Niall's head snaps up in interest at that. He grins.

"You can?" He asks, and James scoffs.

"Dude. How can you already be hooked? Whatever. Yeah. Doubt he'll even notice it's missin'," he says, but Niall's heart just thumps and he can't tug his head away from the first question.

"I - I'm not hooked," he says, glancing around again because he's paranoid all over again, concerned that everyone knows that he's high - that his brothers and fathers will find out and then they'll stop him and all of this, this bliss, will end so soon.

James frowns at him. "Relax, Ni. I was kidding. There're far worse things to be into anyway. You could be heroin junkie or some kid hooker or -"

"Gross," he mutters, making his friend laugh.

"C'mon. I'll walk you home," he says, ruffling his hair again as they leave the school grounds. "Just an FYI, maybe don't make a habit of getting high at school. They'll catch on eventually."

Niall just shrugs at that.
He doesn't plan to make it a habit.

He shows his parents his grade when he gets home and they both grin. Dad hugs him tightly and he can feel it - he can focus on the contact and appreciate it because his brain isn't already jumping to what's next.

He stays under the man's arm and beams when Papa ruffles his hair, basking in the praise that it feels as though he hasn't received since he was younger.

"See what you can do when you put your mind to it, kiddo? You're better than detentions and getting yourself into trouble," Papa says, and Niall feels his stomach take a swan dive.

But he smiles.
He always just smiles.

"Yeah," he agrees.

Because that confirms it; getting high is better than getting into trouble, Papa basically just said so.

So maybe he will get high again tomorrow, if only to make his parents happy like this again. And it isn't a habit, because it'll only be the second time.

Even if it is, it's like James had said.

There are worse habits to have.