50 Reasons I Can't Date Liam Payne - Niam

One

Niall's POV

I jolted awake with the sound of ringing erupting through my ears. Groaning, I realised it was time for me to get up and help Fenton get ready. I sighed heavily and grabbed my phone from the bedside table to turn off the awful sound, before scrolling through my messages. There were a couple from my best friend and work colleague Zayn Malik, telling me to be in the café by nine. Then, there were some from my ex, Tyler.

I ignored all of them and heaved myself out of my comfortable bed, scratching my scalp tiredly. I fished for my grey jeans and white T-Shirt, before yanking them on quicker than usual, noticing I was later than I should be. Then I aimed for my son's bedroom.

Naturally, he lay on his side, snoring softly. His swept blonde hair fell into his closed blue eyes, and his lips parted as the sounds escaped them. His duvet was flunked on the floor like every other morning, and his legs sprawled all over the place. I laughed at the sight of the thirteen year old boy; he wore the green striped pyjamas I bought him on his last birthday.

"Fenton, babe, you need to get up now." I murmured, bending down and shaking him gently. It normally took me about five minutes to actually get him up; he got his deep sleep from me, although he was adopted.

Eventually, he stirred and stretched, yawning loudly. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing big blue eyes. He blinked a few times, looking around the room, before shaking his head and pushing me away from him. "No, Dad- I'm too sick."

I sighed at the same excuse I'd heard three times this week. He used to love school, but recently he's been really hating it. I wondered whether it was a teacher, or another student who had decided to bully my child because of where he came from or the way he acted. He was rather... feminine sometimes. All of his friends were girls, and the way he spoke wasn't as masculine as the other boys. But he never told me.

"Come on, Fen; I'll make you your favourite breakfast, yeah? Waffles and golden syrup?" I encouraged, pulling him up. He sat in his small single bed, scowling. He was glaring at his school uniform lying on his desk, all neat and tidy, the way he liked everything.

He shook his head sadly. "Dad, I really don't feel up to it today. Please let me stay off, I'm really sick. I feel as if I'm going to vomit." He insisted, his voice high and grumpy, stiff from his sleep. It broke my heart to know how much he really didn't want to go.

"I'm afraid not, sport. I have to work today, and I'm not allowed to let you just have random days off. Get up and get dressed, I'll be in the kitchen." I straightened up and ruffled his hair, in which he grumbled and attempted to straighten it back up.

I wandered into the kitchen to grab the waffles and syrup, feeling as if my heart had shattered into a million pieces. There was something going on, and I needed to find out, but how? I decided I would ask Zayn today at work, because he was really good at advice and would be really enthusiastic with whatever it was. Zayn adored Fenton, and often came around and gave him presents and stuff.

Just then, Fenton came into the kitchen dressed in his crisp white shirt, black skinny trousers, blue and black tie, and black blazer. His hair was straightened over one eye, and he stood tall and proud. Despite this, he had purple bags under his eyes and was still frowning.

"Here we go," I grinned and pushed the plate of waffles onto the table which he sat at. I grabbed the syrup and squeezed a dollop in top, watching as he smiled sadly and began eating them. I looked at him for a minute, before turning back and filling up at glass of orange juice.

"So, are you going to tell me why you're so reluctant to go to school? You used to love it." I murmured for the millionth time. He stopped eating and clenched his jaw, clearly unimpressed by my medalling. Being a teenage boy, he wasn't happy with his father trying to join in with his social life.