Harry's POV
The next morning, everyone was already awake when I got up. As a teenager, I needed more sleep than adults—it had been scientifically proven. So why did school start so early? I couldn’t think straight before nine, and yet they expected us to learn. I ate cereal, as usual, in a kitchen that still felt unfamiliar. My mom offered me a ride to school, which I accepted without hesitation.
“Don’t expect rides in the future,” she said. “You’re taking the bus tomorrow.”
I nodded and leaned against the car window, watching the morning blur past.
We arrived at school on time, thankfully. I hurried to my first class, scanning the room for Niall… or, even better, Louis Tomlinson. Neither was in sight. It was one of the few classes where I didn’t see my new best friend, and Louis? He hadn’t shown up again. I started to worry, but quickly reined it in. I’d barely met the guy, had no reason to worry. Maybe he was one of the druggies everyone whispered about. The bell rang, and I practically ran to the next class. Niall arrived shortly after, waving subtly across the room before weaving through the desks to sit beside me.
“Harry, guess what?”
“What?”
“You know Louis? The guy you were asking about yesterday?”
“Yeah, hasn’t shown up to a single class.”
“Turns out he was taken away in an ambulance yesterday. Someone shoved him down the stairs, or maybe he fell? Everyone’s saying someone pushed him, but nobody saw who did it.”
“You’re kidding me… Is he okay?” My eyes widened, a knot forming in my stomach.
“I think so… He should be back by tomorrow. I wasn’t expecting anything to happen so early in the year.”
“Why? Has something like this happened before?”
“Alright, I’ll be taking attendance now! Everyone quiet! Look at me. Zach!” The teacher snapped. “Zach, up here. Can someone get his attention for me?” The teacher gestured toward a kid in the back wearing headphones. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he sat upright, removing the headphones.
“Okay. Darren Abdi, Arthur Benview, Tony Bradville, Annie Cartwright…”
This was another class where the teacher called my name, then Louis’s name, got no response, and moved on. The class felt agonizingly long—partly because the material was boring, partly because I was exhausted, and mostly because my mind kept wandering. Eventually, it was over. We had one more class before lunch. Niall was hungry again, constantly asking for food. I gave him the only granola bar I had brought, resolving to keep extra snacks from now on if he kept this up. Lunch finally arrived, and we found a seat in the corner of the cafeteria. We set our bags down and headed for the food line. The quality was surprisingly good—fresh pasta, paninis, salads. I was used to mystery meat and pizza days. This was new. I understood now why Niall looked forward to lunch so much. Of course, our break was only fifteen minutes long, ten of which we spent in line. We hurried back to our table and tried to scarf down our meals in five minutes. We ran to the next class, arriving two minutes late.
“I’m going to have to ask you to get a note from the front office.”
“But we were just at lunch. It’s not our fault we’re late.”
“You still need a note, or I’ll have to mark you as tardy.”
We were in the D building, the front office in the A building. We had to run up four flights of stairs to get there. Halfway there, I realized how absurd the system was. We missed part of class, then had to miss even more to prove we hadn’t missed any class. We reached the office and froze, breathing heavily as we stared into the room. Louis Tomlinson was sitting in a chair across from a young woman, his arm in a sling. From behind, I couldn't see any other damage. Louis wasn’t wearing his jacket; he wore a white tank top and a purple beanie. Niall tapped me on the shoulder, and I realized I’d been staring. We slowly approached the desk, standing quietly, waiting for the woman to notice us.
“How can I help you boys?” she asked.
“We need a note for class.”
“Okay, can I get your names and why you were late?”
“I’m Harry Styles,” I said.
“Niall Horan.”
“Okay, reason you were late?”
“We were at lunch and couldn’t make it from the cafeteria to the D building in time.”
She wrote us each a slip and handed them over before turning back to Louis. Louis glanced up at us. I could see now—a large bruise below his eye and a split lip. I tried to memorize his face before he turned away, and Niall and I had to rush back to class.
It was a very long day. Louis never showed up to the classes we had together. I wondered if he was okay.
Niall had begun to grow on me even more as the day wore on. I didn’t usually make friends so quickly. Honestly, I think the only reason he hung out with me was because he didn’t have any other friends. I decided then and there to be his best friend, at least until graduation, when we’d probably end up going our separate ways.
“Hey Niall,” I said before we parted ways for the day. “Why don’t we hang out this weekend?”
A smile broadened on his face. “Yes! I would love to!”
“Okay, well… maybe we should exchange numbers or something? I’ll text you?”
“Sure.” He dictated his number aloud, and I put it into my phone. I sent a quick text to confirm it had saved.
We got on the bus together. He got off a few stops before me. Tomorrow was Saturday…
It didn’t make sense to me to start the school year on a Thursday. Why not a Monday?
At home, I went upstairs and rummaged around for fifteen minutes to find my laptop amongst the boxes. I sat down and began writing the three essays that were due. I doubted the teachers realized we had classes besides their own.
I was halfway through the first essay when Mom called me for dinner. She had made tacos. I ate two, then politely asked to return to my homework. I went back upstairs.