Not Another Jock

Chapter Two

I was woken by my dad shaking my shoulder, so I batted his hand off and pulled down my headphones.

It was bright now, the sun shining high above us. I checked the time on my phone, surprised to see it was only two-forty.

Climbing out of the car, I noticed that the trunk was open, and I knew there was at least two boxes left to be carried on. I swore under my breath as I walked over to see what was left.

There were two cardboard boxes left, both with 'Harper - bedroom' scribbled across the side in dark pink Sharpie. They mainly consisted of my various notebooks and reading books, and probably a few stray pens that had fallen in during my frenzy of packing.

Bending down, I scooped up the boxes in my arms, positioning them on my hip while reaching for the truck in order to close it, which was easier said than done.

The box was a lot heavier than I intended, even though I knew there was at least twenty reading books alone in them. I tried my best to balance them, shifting my hip different ways but nothing helped.

Eventually, after much struggle and effort to balance them, I decided they were stable enough to move onto my next task; closing the trunk.

As soon as I stretched high enough to reach the door, the boxes started to wobble, making me wrap my other arm around the box quickly, but it still fell to the floor with a clatter, the contents spilling everywhere.

I swore under my breath again as all my reading books spread across the driveway, mainly towards the gate. I went to put the other box, the one with my notebooks, back into the trunk, but the door was too far down, causing me to bump the box into it. I lost my grip on it rather quickly after that, the contents of that box spilling as well.

"Oh, for God's sake." I whined, throwing the now empty box onto the ground beside the car, kicking one of my pens in frustration.

Someone in front of me cleared their throat, making me jump at the sudden noise. I looked up to see a boy, around my age, looking at me from beneath a cap, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jumper, a small smile playing at his lips.

"D'you want any help?" He offered, nodding at the books splayed across the ground.

I hesitated, taking in the boy's appearance first. He was tallish, probably an inch or two taller than I was, his dark brown fringe poking out onto his forehead from beneath his cap.

I nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. "If you don't mind."

"I don't." He said, still standing there. "Are you new here?"

I bent down to start picking up my books, hearing his feet crunch on the gravel, coming towards me. I looked up, seeing him crouched down only a foot or two away from me.

He looked up too, his eyes meeting with mine. I noticed his eyes were blue, a very bright blue, and there was a light dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks.

When I caught myself staring, I looked back down at the ground, my cheeks on fire.

"Uh, yeah." I stuttered. "Only just arrived."

"Oh yeah?" He asked, examining one of the book covers that he was holding. "Harry Potter and the Scorer's Stone?"

My cheeks burned hotter as I peered up, looking at him holding my book with an excited expression. When I nodded, his eyes lit up with unspoken glee.

"I don't know anyone else who's read these." He admits, chuckling when I gaped at him. How could someone not have read at least one Harry Potter book?