#thefirsts

Harry hadn’t meant to like his first day of second grade. If he was being completely honest, he had not only expected to hate it, but also wanted to, as well. A new school, away from all his friends. It was normal to want to dislike such a change.

But, of course, he didn’t.

And it wasn’t like he would be allowed to complain much about moving, or the new school, anyways, since most of the reason he had to move was his fault. But it wasn’t his fault the stupid fourth grader had messed with Harry’s best friend. And it was barely his fault the bully couldn’t defend himself against the tiny eight year old.

But in the end, his mother thought it was his fault, and deemed it necessary to drop everything and move just because of a little fist fight. And not just move, no, move in the middle of the school year, just as an added punishment for her son.

Harry’s new house was nothing like his old one. Not only because it was way smaller and cluttered, but also because it was right next to his new school. And by ‘right next’, he means as in neighbors. The only thing he really liked was the backyard, which was very gorgeous, filled with healthy grass, a small, yet fun swing set, and many trees. But he still said that his classmates would be able to see him “acting like a baby on the swings” from the school yard, even if he didn’t care. Harry needed something to complain about every second, or his mother might stay sane.

Well, if you could still classify her as that.

++++

His new school seemed bigger than his old one, the students seemed more rowdy and loud, and from what he could tell, the whole place seemed to be filled with groups, or cliques as his older sister Gemma described them as.

“Mum, I hate you right now,” Harry said, causing a huge grin from Anne, who nodded and patted his curls.

“No, stop it, I mean it,” Harry whined, swatting her hand away. “I hate you.”

Anne’s grin turned into a smirk, pulling her son close and placing a sloppy kiss on his bright red cheek. “You’re too young to hate,” She whispered into his ear before pulling away, patting his head once more with a cold smile on her lips, and leaving without another word.

“Hey Curls! Nice piece of women you got over there!” A boy with dark hair yelled, winking at the flustered boy. He leaned his head back and began laughing. Loudly, might Harry add. The blonde boy and brunette girl beside him joined in on the laughter, before being whisked away by a scowling brunette boy. The last boy with feathery, light hair mouthed ‘sorry’ at Harry’s direction, before rushing off with the rest of his group.

If that was the first thing he heard from one of his classmates this year, then Harry was surely positive he would just love this school.

++++

Being in such a young grade, Harry barely switched classrooms, except if it was for specials, such as art or library.

His teacher seemed okay, so far. Probably around the age of thirty, short hair, and slightly chubby. Nothing harry found gorgeous. But she seemed nice enough, so Harry was alright with her, for now.

The first hour was spent by everyone introducing themselves to Harry with their name and five facts about themselves. Mrs. Brown thought this was needed since Harry would have to make friends sometime. The boy who had earlier ‘commented’ on his mother’s appearance was Zayn Malik, who apparently very much enjoyed being with his friends. The blonde boy was Niall Horan, and he moved from Ireland when he was five. The girl was Eleanor, and she was one day going to be the most famous actress ever, in her mind. The upset boy was Liam, who had four puppies at home. And the last boy who had apologized was Louis Tomlinson, who said he was really glad to have a new student. The rest of the class wasn’t as nearly important as those five.

Harry had been seated in the empty desk next to Louis, earning many disapproving glances from the rest of Louis’ friends, but was relieved when Louis smiled at him before turning back towards the teacher. A minute, if not less, a note was set sown right next to Harry’s hand, folded neatly with a smiley face drawn on the top.

Harry picked it up, hiding it under his desk before opening it. It read, ‘Mind letting me borrow a pencil of yours?? I 4got mine :):). From, Louis.x’.

Harry simply rolled his eyes, shuffled through his desk as quietly as he could, and handed a pencil towards the boy beside him. Another note skidded across the desk, landing right smack in the middle. Harry just rolled his eyes again. This one read, ‘Thanks!!! Sorry for what Zaynie said about your girlfriend, but she does seem lovely :):). From, Louis.xx’

The curly haired boy raised an eyebrow at the messy handwriting, before pulling out a pencil of his own and writing on the back, ‘She’s my mother, not girlfriend. Ew. But it’s okay. –Harry,’ and passing it back to Louis.

Seconds later, the paper was back. ‘Oh, well, your mother seems lovely! And I really like your name too :) My pet goldfish was named Harold but he died… From, Louis.xxx’

Harry didn’t reply to that one, but he couldn’t help himself for smiling. Just a little.

++++

When lunchtime had rolled around, Harry had gotten used to sitting next to Louis, as well as learn a lot about him from not even talking. Such as how he could barely hold still, always fidgeting, or that he muttered his words as he read them, or that he answered as many questions as he could, even if it was obvious he did not know the answer. Harry wasn’t quite sure if Louis was one to befriend, or one to ignore.

Louis had offered to take Harry downstairs to the cafeteria, which he politely declined, only to have him shrug and walk over to Zayn and his groupies. It wasn’t the best decision of Harry’s life. It wasn’t as if the school was that confusing, but having no teacher take them to the cafeteria didn’t help him find it. And even once he had made it there, picking what to eat was even a harder decision. He ended up with a plateful of salad and peaches, with a bottle of water, because who could mess up salad?

“Oi, Curls! Over here!” Zayn yelled at Harry for the second time today, motioning for him to come forward. “Sit with us.” It wasn’t a question; it was a demand.

Harry obeyed. He made his way through the crowd of buzzing students, sitting down next to Louis when he made it to their table. The tiny chatter that had been going on between the five had died down, and everyone’s attention was on the new boy. “Um..”

“So, Harry, right? Do you have a phone?” Harry shook his head at Zayn’s question, taking small bites of his food. “Shame. I do, and it’s so cool. I’ll need your home number sometime.” And with that, Zayn went back to chatting with Eleanor and Niall.

“He’s rich, parents divorced. He gets everything he wants,” Louis whispered into Harry’s ear, pulling away with a small smile.

“But he's only in second grade?”

Louis picked up his apple and took a bite out of it. “That’s why we have sleepovers at his house.”

++++

Recess was never Harry’s strong point. Of course he enjoyed time off from his work, but it wasn’t like he had many friends to share the glorious time with. He was vaguely surprised when Louis sat down beside him on the bench wearing a cheery smile.

“What are you doing here all alone?”

Harry looked over at him, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “I dunno. I’m new? Aren’t you supposed to be off with your friends anyways?”

Louis turned his head, so his face was out of Harry’s view, and sighed. “I like you. And I’m sure they do, too. Maybe not Zayn, but he can be a meany face.”

Harry tried not to laugh at Louis’ insult, knowing if it was him doing the insulting, well, it would deserve him a nice spoonful of soap in the mouth. “A meany face? I’d say that. What about the rest of them? Liam seems cool.” Louis’ head snapped right back to look at Harry, his smile now on his lips.

“Liam’s the best, really. He… keeps Zayn in line. He’s the only one Zayn will listen to. Eleanor, sometimes, can control him, but Liam and Zayn have a special, special connection. He’s very nice, too. Liam. Niall’s nice, too, but he acts like Zayn too much. He’s very shy if you don’t know him, though, but loud and.. mean if you do.” Louis’ eyebrows bunched together, and his bottom lip pouted outwards. “He’s supposed to be nice. Aren’t people from leprechaun country nice? I guess he could be, if he tried. Eleanor’s a bit of a brat. My mummy called her that.” Harry couldn’t help but smile at Louis calling his mom ‘mummy’ and he also found the fact he was rambling slightly cute. “She’s rich, but not like Zaynie. She’s sporty. Wait, no! I mean spoiled. That’s the word. She’s even had her first kiss! And she says many bad words.”

“Oh, like fuck?” Harry asked, noticing how Louis’ eyes immediately widened at the word, as if it was the dirtiest thing he ever heard.

“Don’t say that!” Louis yelled, clasping a hand over the younger boy’s mouth. “The teachers will hear you,” He whispered, bringing his face inches away from Harry’s, his breath smelling like chocolate and making Harry slightly okay with him being so close. Slightly.

++++

“Are we friends?”

It was the last ten minutes of the day, were everyone was allowed to work on homework, play a game, color, or anything else they wanted to do. Louis and Harry were sitting at their desk, sharing Harry’s crayons and coloring their own pictures.

“What?” Harry asked, looking up from his picture of a dog eating pizza.

“Are we, you know, friends?” Louis asked once more, a blush crossing his features lightly, complimenting his bright blue eyes much more than his usual pale face. He was chewing on his bottom lip lightly, his eyes not leaving Harry’s once.

Harry’s eyebrows scrunched together, thinking over the question. The only friend he had before was the reason he had moved. And if he was to be honest, being friends with someone wasn’t a skill he had. He thought friendship required too much complication, attention, and things that any normal eight year old wouldn’t care about, unless you were Harry Styles.

But Louis was different. From the eight hours he had spent with the boy, he knew he was different from the other students. Well, maybe not from the beginning, but he grew more fond of him from the start of the day. He was a bit more mature than the others, though he knew how to laugh, and wasn’t too smart, so he gave Harry no competition (who was, without a day, probably the smartest in his class.) And he was very pretty, with pretty, blue eyes and pretty, soft hair. And he would randomly run his hands through Harry’s curls, which was something Harry loved.

Harry smiled widely at the boy in front of him, letting his hand lay on the smaller one of Louis’.

“I’d say so, yeah.”

The way Louis' smile grew wide enough to crinkle the edge of his eyes made Harry's heart flutter. Just a little.