Niall's fingers tap against his desk in time with the seconds that drag by, eyes focused on the clock but sort of...staring through it. The hall is otherwise silent, except for the scratching of one girl's pen as she attempts to engrave her name into the wood.
Someone huffs a sigh and Niall glances across, catching his friend's eye so that both of them have to press their lips together in an attempt not to laugh.
Niall fails terribly and the teacher raises an eyebrow at him from the front of the room.
"Care to share what's so funny, Mr Malik?" He asks, and Niall gives half a shrug. The teacher in charge of the room of thirteen to fifteen year old detention-ees just glares straight back at him. "So I suppose you won't mind staying an extra ten minutes?"
Niall jumps at that. "What? Sir, I wasn't even -"
"Quiet!" The man demands, and he sinks down in his seat with a huff, pencil twiddling between his fingers and cheeks burning with everyone's eyes still on him. But then he glances across the room and meets eyes with James again, and his lips twitch. "Another peep out of you and it won't be just a warning."
Niall gives a quick nod at that, trying to straighten out his humoured expression and turning his eyes back to the clock, mind whirring at a million miles an hour again.
He's used to it by now. He's thirteen and his brain never stops. It's here one minute and there the next and he can't even keep up with it so he's stopped bothering. Hence why he's in detention yet again for failure to pay attention in class.
James is here with him for disruption. He'd been standing on the windowsill and pretending to swan dive from it when their third period English teacher had walked in and reprimanded him for it. Niall had thought it was hilarious.
His parents aren't quite on par with what Niall finds funny. It puts a real downer on the whole mood when they constantly lecture him about the number of detentions he's been receiving lately.
Niall's sure they ought to be used to it by now. It's not like he's ever been any different - he's just rubbish at school. He isn't sure why they can't just accept that.
Even Harry, at sixteen and in year twelve, takes it upon himself to lecture him, and he really can't be bothered to deal with it all any more. If anything, the detentions are an escape from home.
Liam's too busy with Emily since the two of them moved into their apartment together to even know half of what goes on in Niall's life anymore.
A pencil clatters to the floor somewhere in the room, and it catches his wandering attention. He smirks when he sees James leaning from his chair to reach for the object rather than getting up and collecting it like anyone else. Then he dramatically tumbles to the ground with a groan before the teacher is standing up.
"James Michaels, what exactly are you doing?" He demands, and James scrambles up from the ground as a scattering of laughs fill the room.
"Sorry sir," he begins, holding up his pencil. "I dropped my pencil."
Niall snorts at that, ducking his head when the teacher turns to glare at him.
"Right. Niall, James. You just earned yourself another ten minutes," the man says, then glances at the clock behind him. "The rest of you are free to go."
Niall stands up as the handful of other students filter out of the room, mouth open.
"Hey! That's unfair, I didn't even do anything!" He argues.
The teacher raises an eyebrow before letting out a deflated sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. "It never is fair when it comes to you two," he mutters before going back to sit at his desk and shaking his head. "Just go, before I change my mind."
Niall grins at James as they quickly scoop up their school bags and bustle towards the door.
"Thanks sir, see you tomorrow!" Niall calls out before the door swings, grinning at the expression on the man's face. He turns to his dark haired friend.
James is supposed to be in two years above at fifteen years old, but he's been held back twice for a couple of his classes. He's cool and popular and Niall thinks he's incredible. Like some sort of hero worship, he does whatever he can to make the older boy laugh.
"Hey, my brother's throwing a party this weekend. Think you'll be able to come?" James asks, hoisting his bag further onto his shoulder.
Niall raises his eyebrows. "Isn't your brother, like, eighteen? I won't know anybody," he says, and James rolls his eyes.
"You'll know me. Plus, I've invited a ton of people."
"Won't your parents care about so many people being there?"
James turns to his with a raised brow as soon as they step out of the school and into the cool sunlight. "Ni. My parents are never home. They won't ever know," he says, then laughs. "I think they'd die of shock if they knew half of what goes on in our house when they aren't home."
Niall smirks at that, jumping as a horn rings out loudly from the car park. He squints across to where Papa's car is parked. He can already tell that the man is in a bad mood without seeing him and he huffs, turning back to James. "Yeah. I'll be there," he says, before nodding toward the car. "Gotta go."
James waves him off before he hurries over to where Papa is parked, in the shade. The two of them aren't really the caring sort of friends. Well, Niall cares about everyone he meets - he can't really help that. But the friendship he has with James is a lot less thoughtful than the friendship he has with Luke...the one he had with Danny.
He swallows down that thought sharply as he hoists the passenger door open on the car, dumping his bag down in the floor before clambering in. Papa glances across at him with a sigh. "Why is it you're always the last one out? It's bad enough you had to stay an extra hour as it is," he states.
Niall resists the urge to groan at the oncoming lecture. He hunches down in the seat and tugs his belt across his chest, buckling it. "I dunno. Mr Comber just hates me," he mumbles as the engine starts up, and Papa tuts loudly.
"Don't even try it, kid. The poor man can't win with you. Maybe if you actually did as you were told for once then you wouldn't feel like he hates you," he says.
Niall tightens his jaw, turning to look out of the window as the streets begin to pass by. "I do! I wasn't even doing anything wrong this time -"
"That's what you said the past four times, Ni," Papa says. He sounds tired and Niall falls quiet, leg bobbing up and down the way it always does as he chews on his lip. He can practically smell the disappointment dripping off of the man. "And by not writing a single word for an entire lesson, you're doing something wrong."
He doesn't bother fighting this time, gazing out of the window instead until they pull into the driveway. Papa turns to him again as he's unbuckling his belt.
"Liam and Emily are here for dinner so behave, alright?" He says.
Niall frowns at that. "Why? It's only Liam," he answers, climbing out of the car before the man can argue against him. He rushes up to the door, dropping his bag down and kicking off his school shoes in the hall.
The others are all in the kitchen; Harry at the table working as usual with coloured highlighters scattered around him. Emily is sitting at the counter with a glass of coke in front of her, Dad and Liam leaning against the kitchen side. All of them are laughing about something or other, and Liam grins when Niall walks in.
He holds an arm out to him and Niall grins back, bustling over so his oldest brother can loop an arm around his neck and pull him in, the knuckles of his other hand rubbing over his head so that Niall squirms to wrestle him off.
"It's no use, Shorty. I'm afraid your baby limbs aren't much of a match for my manly ones," Liam jokes, and Niall pulls away all red faced, tugging down his school shirt with a scowl.
The twenty year old is probably done growing now, but it's okay for him because he's already the same height as Papa and his limbs are filled out by muscle.
And Niall is well aware that he's shorter than average for his age. He's reminded of that every time he sits in a classroom full of guys who are taller and bulkier than he is. Plus, both of his brothers have been blessed with tall genes and it isn't really fair. So, as always, he defends his own honour fiercely.
"Shuddup Li, you just think you're cool 'cause you got all this fluff on your chin," he argues, rubbing a palm over his big brothers stubbled chin. "It makes you look like a hobo."
Liam glares playfully at him at that before they both break into laughter and Niall allows himself to be pulled into his side again in a more loving reproach this time, light hair ruffled by his brothers hand.
"How was school, Ni?" Emily asks with an interested smile from her space at the counter, dark hair tucked behind her ears.
Niall gives a half hearted shrug. "Same as always," he mutters.
Harry perks up at that, the sixteen year olds curls brushing against the collar of his own sixth form uniform. "By that he means, another detention," he teases with a smirk.
Niall glares back at him. "Shut up Haz, you -"
Dad cuts in then with a smirk that turns into his 'lecture face'. Niall resists another groan.
"He's got a point Ni. What is that? Every day for two weeks?"
He hesitates then shakes his head. "No! Wednesday last week -"
Dad doesn't look humoured, one brow quirked. "Not impressed, Ni. Come on, kiddo. You're smarter than this," he says.
He scowls down at the ground. "Whatever," he mumbles. Because of course, that's what it comes down to. He gets himself into trouble by accident so he isn't smart. He's plenty smart, he just gets distracted easily, thank you very much. Unfortunately, he never really says any of that out loud. He changes the subject instead. "Anyway. My friend asked if I can study at his on Saturday. Can I?" He asks.
It isn't the first time he's lied so he can do something other than study. It isn't usually a party, just him and some friends hanging out. He knows his parents would never allow him out for fun with the amount of detentions he's had recently.
Papa steps in, greeting Emily as he does before his stern eyes land on Niall. "And who would you be studying with, Ni? Because I know that you and Luke don't study when you go over there," he says.
Niall pouts at that, wishing the man would get off of his case all the time. He and his Papa have always been close, but lately the man has just been grating on and on at him. When he was younger, they used to sit and draw together and they'd just talk about everything. But lately his mind has been so hectic that he can't even sit and draw. He can't bare to be still for long enough to hold a conversation.
"James," he says with a shrug. His parents don't know about his older friend and so he just makes it up as he goes. "He's in year eleven, he said he'll help...tutor me. Um, but he isn't free till quite late so I said I would stay over. If - if that's okay?" He asks quickly, and his parents exchange glances before Dad nods.
"Well, I don't see why not. If it'll help you settle down in class," he says, giving Papa a silencing stare when the man opens his mouth to probably argue.
And Niall feels a little hurt by the statement. Because that's all it's ever about and they say it like it's his fault.
He just smiles though. "Okay. Thanks."
The day goes on as it always does. Emily and Liam flirt until he leaves the room in disgust. Harry finishes his homework and puts on a movie. Dad and Papa bicker over who's cooking dinner. And Niall just watches the world as if it's in slow motion and he's the only one moving and thinking with any speed.
.
He doesn't earn himself a detention the next day.
At least, he makes it through the entire day without being given one. But then final period English rolls around and whilst Mrs Jenkins rambles on about star crossed lovers at the front of the room, Niall sinks down in his seat beside Luke and focuses on trying to make his pencil balance on the tip of the led.
It clatters to the table a couple of times before he realises the rest of the class is working silently. He frowns, sitting up and then sighing at his empty book. Once again, he has no idea what he's supposed to be doing.
He nudges Luke beside him. The taller boy glances across before he sighs.
"Again, Ni?"
Niall huffs. "You sound like my parents," he whispers in reply, and Luke scrunches up his nose for a moment before he smiles apologetically.
"Sorry," he says, and Niall gives a shrug. His friend tugs his empty book across and scribbles something down on the top line for him. "We have to answer that. Based on the reading from the weekend."
Niall bites back a wince at that. He didn't do the reading. He'd forgotten completely about it.
So he just nods at Luke as if he knows what he's talking about and spends the remainder of the class staring at the empty book in front of him. As soon as everyone starts packing up, a hand places itself on the empty book in front of him and he glances up into the face of Mrs Jenkins.
She purses her lips for a moment before giving a nod and glancing up at him. He winces and waits for those dreaded words...
"Stay behind after class for me, okay?" She asks, and Niall slumps down again with a defeated nod.
Luke looks to him as he zips up his backpack and hooks it over his shoulders, smiling sympathetically. "I can wait for you if you want?"
Niall just flashes him a weak smile. "S'okay," he says with a shrug. His Dad and Papa are going to kill him. But it's okay.
Whatever.
He waits until everyone is gone before he looks up at the teacher. Surprisingly, she just smiles softly at him and uses her finger to beckon him to the front. He frowns, slipping his bag onto his back and approaching her desk, waiting for the furrowed brows and stern words.
Mrs Jenkins just continues to smile at him. "I've been trying to email your father but it doesn't seem as if he's been receiving them," she begins, and Niall frowns but gives a shrug.
"Yeah, um...Papa said something about not being able to login or something," he answers hesitantly. He doesn't want to offer the woman an alternative way of getting in touch because he knows she's probably only wanting to tell his parents how badly he's been doing in her class.
He doesn't want to give them another reason to be mad at him.
She nods. "I thought as much. And you haven't brought back the slip you were given about updating their emergency numbers. So..." she trails off, opening one of the drawers in her desk and bringing out an envelope. His parents names are scribbled on the front. "I'm trusting you to give this to them, and then let them give me a call. Okay?"
He eyes the letter before taking it, glancing back up to the teacher with furrowed brows. "Why? What does it say? Am I in trouble again? Because they already know, and they're already givin' me a hard time about it so -"
She lets out a small laugh. "Niall. You aren't in trouble, alright? And I'm trusting you to hand it over to them. Today. Now skedaddle. I have my own kids to pick up from school," she says, waving him out of the room.
He grins at that. "So I don't have detention?"
She shakes her head with an amused expression. "No. But I do expect you to start the reading before our next class, okay? Even if it's just a page or two. You might find you enjoy it."
He scoffs. "Sure," he says, then grimaces. "Sorry. I meant thank you."
She nods and waves him off again. He wastes no time in leaving the room this time, almost walking head first into James' chest as soon as he steps into the hall.
The older boy grins. "Thought you'd got yourself in trouble again," he says, and Niall smiles.
"Yeah. Me too."
James nods at the letter in his hands. "What's that?" He questions, snatching it from him before he can react and reading the front. "Oh boy. So you are in trouble."
Niall frowns at that, shaking his head and trying to snatch it back. But James holds it up above his head so he can't reach.
"It's nothing bad," he says, though he's growing uncertain.
James laughs. "Sure. That's why it's sealed in an envelope so you can't read it. Here. I'll do you a favour," he states, reaching across and dropping the letter into the nearest bin, then tugging the thirteen year old outside.
Niall glances over his shoulder but decides to let it go. He hadn't made any promises about handing the letter over anyway, so he shouldn't worry about it.
"You walkin' home today?" He asks, and Niall nods. Harry has a period six meaning he won't be walking with him. James smirks. "Sweet. I'll walk with you."
The letter slips his mind soon enough anyway, when his friend is slipping his cigarettes out of his blazer pocket, holding it out to Niall after taking one for himself. Niall takes one.
"Thanks," he says, letting James light it for him before he's breathing in the smoke and resisting the urge to cough on it.
He doesn't like smoking. It tastes bad and he knows what his parents would say about it. But James would probably think he's a loser if he doesn't join in, so he does it anyway.
They walk home the way they always do when their together, puffing our plumes of white and laughing. James shoves him at one point and he nearly ends up in the path of an oncoming car. The older boy finds it hilarious when he pulls him out of the way last second, so Niall laughs too.
The momentary panic doesn't stick around for long. It never does. Nothing ever does. It's all so fast and Niall just laughs his way through it like he always has.
But it's always when he's in bed of a night, tossing and turning whilst Harry sleeps in Liam's old room next door and his parents sleep in their room. It hits him.
He just wants it all to slow down.
AN
part three!! so this one is gonna be a little darker just to let you all know. it does involve drug and alcohol use so please don't read if that will be triggering for you.
also!! a couple people seemed confused about the gap between the ages of harry and ni, so basically thought i would explain. simply put, there's just under three years difference between them in this fic - hence why in some parts it seems as if there is a two year gap and others a three. hope that makes sense.
so yeah, in this part, ni is thirteen, harry is sixteen and liam is twenty. the boys are growing up :'(
anyway! let me know your thoughts in the comments!
thanks for reading :)