Liam can barely stand to look at the bowl of cereal in front of him at the table that morning. School would be starting in less than an hour, and he's certain that his stomach is in actual ribbons. He feels sick, and his anxiety is the highest it's been in the longest time. Probably since he had started high school.
He isn't even sure why exactly. He supposed it has something to be with the grades he had received before school let out for Christmas. They hadn't been the worst, but definitely not what he had been aiming for.
Now he has exams again in two weeks, and even though they aren't his finals, he still can't help but work himself up about them. His friends are all smart, and it seems as if they don't even have to study to achieve the highest grades, whilst Liam has to work his ass off until the early hours. He supposes the lack of sleep probably won't be helpful in the long run, but it's helping for now.
And even as he's sitting there with the morning hustle of his family around him, he can recall the quadratic formula with ease now.
"Eat up, Li, you still haven't packed your school bag or anything yet," Dad hurries, trying to get Niall to sit down at the table to eat.
The eight year old is giggling, ducking out of the way and eventually crawling underneath the table. "No, Daddy! I hate school! I don't wanna go!" He yells, and Liam sighs as his youngest brother cling onto his ankles whilst he makes an attempt to eat his breakfast.
Harry sits opposite him, already tidy in his uniform and crunching on his toast, fingers tapping against the table rapidly and almost nervously.
Papa seems to notice from his space leaning on the counter behind him, sipping on a coffee. He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of his head. "You okay, Haz?" He asks, and the eleven year old nods.
"M'okay Papa," he answers quickly, cheeks turning pink in a way that makes Liam raise an eyebrow. His brother looks to him. "Um, I don't need to come with you and Emily in the car, Li. I'm gonna walk with my friends," he says, and Liam frowns but gives a shrug.
"Okay. Just find me at school if you need a ride home," he says, and Harry nods, turning back to his toast.
Meanwhile, Niall's small fingers are pinching into Liam's ankles and he sighs, trying to kick him off gently.
"Ni! Pack it in," he huffs, and the boy squeals.
"Li! Help!" He yelps as their Dad crawls under the table as well, catching onto the small boy and hauling him out, almost tugging Liam off of his chair with him. "No, Daddy! I wanna stay with you!"
Dad raises an eyebrow at that. "Ni, I'm one of your teachers. That means going to school," he says, and Niall hesitates before looking up at their Papa instead. At this point, the eight year old's primary school uniform is twisted and his hair is all stuck up, cheeks bright red.
"Papa! Can I go with you?" He asks instead, and the man chuckles, shaking his head.
"You gotta go back to school, Shorty," he says, making the eight year old pout, shoulders slumping. "Hey. You'll get to see Danny again, you've missed him, huh? Maybe we can ask him over for dinner tonight?"
At the mention of his best friend, Niall jumps up with a grin, turning to Dad with wide eyes. "Yes! Please, Daddy! Can he?" He asks, already far too excited for them to tell him 'no'. He, Danny and Luke have been best friends since pre-school, and Niall and Danny in particular have always been inseparable.
Dad smiles, lifting Niall and setting him down on one of the chairs at the table with a bowl of coco pops in front of him. "I don't see why not. I'll ask his mother if I catch her before school starts," he says, and Niall ticks into his breakfast immediately, with their Dad mouthing a 'thank you' to their Papa behind his back.
Time moves quickly at that, and soon enough, Liam's climbing into the back of a car next to Emily, with his nerves skyrocketing.
Don't be stupid, he tells himself, it's just school.
Emily seems to notice something straight away, tucking a lick of dark hair behind her ear as she frowns at him. "Are you okay?" She asks quickly, and Liam smiles quickly, leaning in to press a kiss to his girlfriends lips.
The two of them have been going steady since they were twelve years old and his parents had walked in on their first kiss. Things had progressed since then, and he dreaded to think about the 'talk' his parents would want to have if they knew what they had been up to.
Someone clears their throat, and he pulls away quickly to see Oscar, Emily's older brother, frowning at him. He winces a little, cheeks heating up.
"Hey Oscar," he says, to which the young man just grunts.
"Put your belt on," he orders, and Liam does as he's told before the car starts moving.
Emily and he make eye contact, both stifling childish giggles for a moment before simply settling to joining hands between each other. She turns back to concerned after a moment, leaning forward to peer at him.
"Seriously though, are you alright? You look tired," she hedges, and he just smiles at her, heart feeling all warm with the knowledge that his girlfriend really cares, she notices.
He gives her hand a soft squeeze. "I'm okay. Just...didn't sleep too well last night," he admits, which is a scratch of the whole truth (that is, he hasn't been sleeping too well for weeks, and last night had been no exception).
Emily studies him for a moment before giving a satisfactory nod. "Hm. Yeah, me neither. I can't believe this is going to be our final six months of high school," she breathes, and he feels his stomach twist again at the words, lungs feeling as if they've shrunk all of a sudden.
He sucks in a long breath just to reassure himself that he can. He hasn't had anxiety attacks since he was little, and he doesn't intend to let them start again now. He doesn't even have to see Gabby anymore, hasn't done for over a year now.
He's fine.
Healed, or whatever.
"Yeah," he replies eventually.
He spends the rest of the car journey trying to slow down his racing pulse.
.
Harry walks into school with his friends Hannah and Max that same morning, stomach twisting too but for far different reasons.
He manages to ignore the feeling until he is in the hallway, stuffing his books into his locker with Hannah chatting his head off about the ski trip that her mother and father had forced her to go on over the holidays like it's some sort of huge drama. He loves his friend, of course, but she really has a case of first world problems going on, so he sort of blocks her out most of the time and then feels bad about it afterwards.
But today as she's rambling on and he's busy trying to get his locker door to close, his eyes land on Will Clarke at the other end of the hall. He's talking to his friends, light brown hair a little longer than it had been before Christmas, teeth straight and white.
His stomach twists a little harder as he unintentionally stares, only for Hannah to grab his shoulder. He jumps a little, turning to look at his friend as she raises an eyebrow at him before following his gaze.
"Oh," she says, smirking. "You still have a crush on Will?"
He feels his cheeks heat up at that, shaking his head quickly enough that his curls fall across his brows and he quickly has to flick them to the side. "No!" He rushes, voice sounding weirdly high pitched even to his own ears. Being eleven, his voice hasn't broken yet but boy, he cannot wait for the day he starts sounding like some of the boys in his class already do - all deep and mature.
Like Will...
He shakes his head again. "I don't - I'm not - It's not a crush," he says quickly, and Hannah just shrugs, her brows raising again underneath her red fringe.
"Sure, Haz. That why you always stare at him with your mouth open like a fish?" She asks, and before he can object, she speaks again. "If you like him that much, why don't you just ask him out?"
He frowns at that, then lets out a nervous laugh. "This isn't primary school, Hannah. I can't just ask somebody out...besides - he's - I mean, I'm - we're both boys," he splutters, causing his friend to look surprised.
"Um. Haz, no offence, but I feel like you're the least likely person to think that's a problem. I mean...if you didn't already know, you happen to have two Dads," she says, looking amused at his words.
Harry just winces though, stomach still twisting nervously. Of course he isn't afraid of what his parents would think, and he isn't afraid of his sexuality either. He kinda knows that he's not straight because he's never liked a girl before. But he's never liked a boy either until he met Will. He's super cool, and popular, and everyone loves him. And they're sort of friends. Or at least, they have a lot of classes together and Will always asks him if he wants to be partners. Though, that's probably just because Harry is smart.
He supposes his fear lies in what everyone else will think, outside of his family. He might be young but he isn't naive. He knows that there are a lot of people who don't like those who are gay. He's seen the way people look at his Dad and Papa when they hold hands in public and it isn't nice. He doesn't want to be looked at like that...
And what if Will doesn't like boys? What if he only likes girls? And then Harry has ruined their friendship, and Will will tell everyone and then people will be mean to him and - it just doesn't feel worth it.
So he turns to Hannah with a shrug. "Doesn't matter. I don't like him like that anyway...can we talk about something else?"
And Hannah looks a little curious but doesn't push, going back to talking about how annoying it was that she didn't get to sit by the window on the plane journey home from their holiday at Christmas.
And Harry just keeps thinking about Will with his stomach all twisted up and his cheeks all hot and his head all conflicted.