School was tedious and boring for the most part. The problem with school is that you slip into a routine and everything is just so... the same. You have your timetable for the week; you know exactly what lessons you're going to have and at what times, you know which periods you're going to have free and with whom, you even know the precise time you have to wake up to just be able to make it to school on time. You wake up early, spend the day all grumpy and looking like death, get home and do more work, have dinner and shower, then spend a few hours wasting time on the internet before falling asleep with your phone in hand at a ridiculous hour. Or at least that's my life for the time being.
I was tired, but not the kind of tired that sleeping for thirteen hours straight on the weekends could cure. I wanted some excitement - I wanted to be spontaneous. But for now I just had to go with the flow, I just had to get through these ten months and I would be free to do whatever it was I wanted to do after that.
I knew school starting again would mean that I probably wouldn't see Liam very often, but I certainly didn't think we'd become as distant as we are. He's at university now so he has to focus on the bigger picture and work so damn hard, which I totally understand, but I thought maybe we'd at least text and he could come over for dinner now and again since he's not living on campus.
It's Friday again at last and Liam's lecture got cancelled so he was finally able to stop by my house for a little while. We were just chilling, watching TV, engaging in as much conversation as the two of us could handle. He was sat upright with his head resting on the back of the sofa and I was slouched into the corner with my legs across his lap, his hand on my calf idly fiddling with a loose thread on the lining of my jeans. The two of us were practically in a trance staring at the television in the darkening room until the front door clicked open behind the textured glass of the porch screen.
Liam stirred beneath me and inhaled sharply as he lifted his body slightly to pull his phone from his back pocket and he clicked the button illuminating the screen. "Whoa, it's six already, I better make a move."
He patted my legs and I moved them from across him to let him stand up. "You've only been here since three, why don't you stay for dinner?" I groaned, looking up to him stretching and smoothing his jeans out.
"I know, and I would but it's mum's birthday tomorrow so we've got family coming over tonight. Sorry Jess," he pouted, leaning down to kiss my forehead. After plenty of shuffling on the other side, the porch door eventually opened.
"Tell her I say happy birthday," I told him.
My eyes roamed towards the doorway and found Niall, followed by-
No. Oh God, no.
Is this some kind of joke? It has to be, right?
My mouth fell agape and I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat when I saw him. Harry. Immediately I tried to compose myself and look like I hadn't noticed him, or at least like I wasn't fazed by the fact he was here, so I forced myself to stare back at the TV unable to pay attention to what was actually on it. Instead I listened closely and sensed every movement going on around me, watching out of the corners of my eyes.
"Liam mate, wassup!" Niall sang, running up to Liam and offering him a fist bump which of course Liam returned.
"Alright mate, I'm actually just on my way out so I'll catch you later?" Liam patted Niall on the back as he scooted past him and continued past Harry who was just stood in silence with his hands buried deep into the pockets of his worn black jeans.
Shoving his feet into his trainers with ease, Liam peered back into the living room and waved at us all whilst calling, "Cya," to which we all mumbled a 'goodbye' back.
"Oh yeah, J, this is Harry!" Niall 'introduced' me, and I had no choice but to look over my shoulder at him with a weak, very false, smile. "We're working together on this thing for Geography so he'll be coming round every so often."
"Uhh... hey," I muttered. How was this going to go? Were we going to pretend we didn't know each other? Was he going to make this awkward and tell Niall about how we actually do know each other?
"Blondie," he greeted, nodding towards me with a subtle but torturing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hands were now behind his back so that he almost bowed for me and his tongue crept out to wet his lips as they pressed together to hide his smug expression. So I guess it was half option one, half option two at this point.
"Oh, you two know each other?" Niall asked obliviously, his eyes flicking between us with pleasant surprise.
"You could say that," Harry answered before I had the chance to, luckily. I thought for a moment how deep and almost soothing his voice sounded, much unlike Niall's which was fast and chirpy. Niall and I were born in Ireland but we moved over to the south of England fourteen years ago when he was five and I was just three, he'd picked up the accent way more than I had and somehow he'd managed to keep it.
"Right, well I'm gonna have a quick shower and get out of this kit, so... Harry, do you wanna just wait down here or you can come up to my room?" Only now had I realised Niall was wearing a dirty football kit and his pale skin was tainted with dried mud.
"I'm alright down here, mate," Harry affirmed.
As Niall nodded and started to jog up the stairs I was suddenly hit by the realisation that I was going to have to sit down here with Harry while he waited for Niall.
I watched cautiously as Harry slumped back into the sofa adjacent to the one I was sitting on once Niall had disappeared. He blatantly stared over at me and began chuckling to himself as he seemingly made himself at home before he snickered quietly, "This is absolute gold."
"What are you playing at?" I snapped at him, my voice a raised whisper as I glared at him with furrowed eyebrows.
"I had no idea, honestly," his chuckle was louder now and he held his hands up in defence and lowered his eyes.
"Sure," I scoffed, "Now who's the one following who around." My voice came out a little less assertive than I'd hoped but I think I managed to put the intended sarcasm across to him.
"How was I to know? You don't have the same surname. Plus, your brother up there-" he pauses and points to the ceiling, "-is practically the human embodiment of Ireland, whereas your accent is hardly even noticeable."
Of course; I'd completely forgotten that Niall takes my mother's maiden name now. Maybe for once Harry wasn't being cocky or lying, and for a moment I was almost impressed at how observant he was.
"So, blondie has a little boyfriend? Cute. He seems like a right sweetheart," he interrupted me from my thoughts. Okay, so I was wrong about the not being cocky part.
Despite the fact he was making fun of my relationship, all I could focus on was that ghastly nickname he'd come up with. "Stop calling me that."
"What, blondie? Don't you like it? Suits you," he mocked me.
Knowing I wouldn't fight back he glanced over to check out what was on the TV and I examined him carefully whilst he wasn't looking. My gaze was immediately drawn to the ink that covered the arm nearest me, it was stretched out across the arm of the sofa allowing me a decent view of the penmanship. None of the tattoos really had any colour, they were all pretty dark, but something about them interested me - I loved the idea of tattoos but I would never get one myself. I found myself wanting to know if each one had a story.
A sudden surge of curiosity swept over me and I asked, "Why are you such a díck to me? Are you like this to everyone or did I do something specific to píss you off?"
"I'm like this to everyone, don't flatter yourself."
"Why did you chase after me when you saw me for the first time?"
He shrugged his shoulders and his expression remained unfazed as he stared blankly at the glowing screen.
"You're lying," I accused. "You could've just ignored me like any normal person would rather than chase me down and then decide you were going to start picking on me for no reason."
"I'm not picking on you, stop being a baby."
"Yes you ar-"
"Okay I'm done, wanna come up to my room and start the project now Harry?" Niall called from upstairs, stopping me mid sentence.
"Yeah," Harry called back, his voice sounded even huskier when he spoke loudly. Jumping up off the sofa he began walking towards the staircase, but not before he looked over his shoulder and smiled at me sarcastically, saying, "This was fun, we should do it again some time. Cya, blondie."
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