Good Morals [Larry Stylinson]

Ch. Sixteen | It Gets Better...?

[E:✔️]

Harry woke up, startled, before realizing the phone was ringing. He swore under his breath before checking the caller ID, reading his sister's name. He frowned, glancing at the time. It was around two-thirty in the morning. He sat up, worry filling his body. He called out for his mother but there was no answer.

"Gem? What's up? It's two-thirty, everything okay?"

"Haz, when did you see mum last?"

"Uh," Harry bit his lip, what was she on about, "Well she's home now, probably sleeping. Why, what's happened," he asked, worried. "Okay, she's not picked up any of my calls, I just got worried."

"Right," Harry said awkwardly, "so the reason you called is," he waited for a reply. Gemma sighed, "I dunno, I couldn't sleep, Haz. School's stressful."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Harry scoffed. "What's going on with you," his sister asked. "Well we have a new drama teacher. New, I dunno 'bout that, our old one retired and he apparently took the spot right away. He is nice, I guess."

"You guess? What is he some clapped old man," Gemma asked. "No," Harry said, his tone almost hostile. It caught him off guard. "I-I mean, no, sorry," he blushed, embarrassed. "He's young, twenty-three, he's not clapped, Gem."

"Oh," his sister drew out the sound, almost cooing, "So he's fit. How old is he again? Twenty-two?"

"Twenty-three."

"And he's fit?"

"Ew, stop it! No, he's a complete dickhead! Just 'cause he's fit doesn't mean he's-" the boy stopped himself, eyes widening at his words. He just called his teacher fit. Was that weird? I mean Harry couldn't help his thoughts, really. Gemma burst into a fit of laughter, making Harry hold his phone away from him a bit. "Gem, shut up! He, like, hates me!"

"What? You? How could he ever? You're so pure, baby brother," the girl teased. "Gemma, please," Harry whined, earning another laugh. "Alright, alright. But, really Harry, why would you think that? I'm sure it's not that bad," she said quietly. "Well, it kind of is. The very first time I was late, it was for his class. Before this he did seem nice and all, but he stood me out of the classroom and went on about 'you're suppose to be mature blah blah blah'," Harry mocked. "And the next time I was late was because I had to use the restroom. What was I supposed to do? Somehow pee faster?"

"Jeez, that's a load of it."

"Yeah, I'm fully aware."

There was a long pause, until the green-eyed boy spoke again, "New Year's Eve something happened as well. But you've got to promise me you won't say anything to mum. Please Gem," Harry said quietly. Gemma stayed quiet for a while, making her brother get more and more anxious by the second. "Gem?"

"Yes, alright. Go on, I'm here."

"Niall, Zayn, Liam and I went to the club on New Year's Eve," he swallowed thickly, closing his eyes as images of the night went through his mind, "I had some drinks-yeah, don't tell me it's wrong, I know. I eventually found someone to dance with, handsome lad. Midnight hit, we went to the bathrooms and shagged," he swallowed again, "while we were...uh, making noise, some guy yelled at us, we got done and went to leave, and it was Mr. Tomlinson. The drama teacher. He yelled at me when the guy I was with left. He blocked the bloody door, Gem," Harry cried out, falling back onto his bed and wrapping his blankets around him tightly. His sister went quiet. "Harry, honey," there was a knock on his door, making him groan. "Mum," he responded. The door creaked open, "Who are you talking to," she asked, concerned. "Gemma. She tried calling you because she's stressed or something. You were sleeping, so now I'm stuck with her," he smiled sleepily. "Honey, it's past three, Gemma needs her sleep as well, tell her I said that and I love her," his mum smiled back. The boy heard his sister tell him to tell their mum the same, which he did.