Photograph.

Chapter Three.

Louis P.O.V

I walked to my first class. French. And I took a seat in the back of the classroom. No one barely took notice of my presents.

"Okay, class today we'll be learning why France departed from England." The French teacher said, letting us hear how thick her French was.

I looked around the class checking to see what some of the students looked like. There was a blonde boy sitting two seats ahead of me to the right. I looked around a bit more and I a taller student, he had chocolate brown hair, that was quite curly. He caught my eye cause he was a lot bigger then all the other students in the class.

I looked down at my pencil and started playing with it a bit. A few seconds later I felt a tap on my left shoulder.

I looked over to find out who and why that person was tapping on my shoulder. It was middle sized lad, and his hair was black. I could tell it had been dyed multiple times, by how many colors where still a bit noticeable in his hair.

I gave him a questioning look, as to why he was tapping my shoulder in the middle of class. " Hey, I'm Michael." The boy whispered trying not to get caught by our teacher. " I'm Louis." I stated. " You're new, you don't have any friends here? Do you wanna sit with me at lunch mabey?" He asked hopefully.

I was guessing he didn't have many friends, or any for all I know. I don't want to sit by myself at lunch, and I don't want him to sit by himself either, so I'll just make our lunch better. " Sure." I whispered back. " Also I can show you around the school later." He whispered back looking at the front of the class. He was offering to show me around cause I'm gonna sit with him at lunch, how nice. " Okay, thanks." I whispered back still trying not to get caught.

Twenty minutes later, and this class has finally ended. It was eleven in the afternoon so I guess lunch is next. Students merge out of there classrooms trying to get to lunch, before the line gets too long. While I slowly walk out of the classroom and wait for Michael to goin me at lunch.

" Hey Louis, sorry I was late. I had to stay after and finish some work." Michael says jogging twards me from the class we were previously in. " It's alright, I don't mind." I state slowing down to let him catch up.

The walk to lunch was quiet. We got to the lunch room and I walk over to the kitchen part and in. With Michael following me. All the food was either gone or cold, and I'm not too hungry anyways. " There's no food left. I wasn't too hungry anyways." I say, stating the obvious." Oh okay, we'll we can just sit down and, you know talk." Michael says. " Sure." I agree. We walk out of the kitchen and I look around to see tables full of people. And I can tell they're categorized. There's the nerds. The popular girls. The hippies, who smoke all day every day. Then there's the Jocks. And the curly haird boy from earlier was in that group.

I can only see half of his body, I didn't even notice his arms are filled with tattoos! Wow there's so many. Usually when you're in high school, you don't have that many tattoos. He also has a lip peircing. He's quite the looker. If I do say so myself.

I was dragged out of my thoughts by Michael telling me to speed up. " Come on Louis. Hurry up." Michael states already at the table. I walk over to the table Michaels seated at and take a seat across from him.

I take a quick look at Michael, then back at the curly haried boy once again. " Who's he?" I ask Michael, still not taking my eyes off the boy I've been staring at for the past three minutes. " Who?" Michael asks unaware of who I'm talking about. " Him." I state slightly pointing at the curly haired boy a few yards away. " Oh, him. That's Harry Styles, the womanizer. He'll fuck any girl that comes his way." Michael states also looking at the boy ahead if us.

Womanizer? That word disgusts me. And anyone who's okay with being called one is disgusting. And my childhood friends name was Harry. But there's no way it's him. He'd never become a Jock or a womanizer. And what would he be doing here in Doncaster, we lived in Cheshire. Yet, I still stare at the boy. He looks a bit down, and he has since I first saw him. Yeah he's in the Jocks group, but it seams he's the outcast in the group of football players.

Minutes later the bell rings and everyone scatters out of the stuffy room. The Jocks all run out leaving Harry behind. He hasn't smiled once this whole time I've watched him. He slowly walked twards me. I'm questioning why he's coming over here. " Why are you still in here?" He asks in a harsh tone. I turn around to see Michael gone, with everyone else. He looks intimidating, and angry. I looked back at him and he has an annoyed and angry expression on his face. I realize I haven't even answered his question. " Oh I don't know. M-my friend just l-left." I studder, scared he'll hurt my like that 'Zayn' kid did. Considering they sat together.

" Just get the fuck out of here you faggot!" He yelled in my face. I don't know what to do. " Get the fuck out of here!" He yells once more. I run out of the lunch room not knowing what to do.

I don't care that he yelled in my face, that's happened many times before. But he called me a faggot. I'm not taking offense to it like other people would, simply because I'm gay. And it's taken as a threat to other people in this school, and that's part of the reason why I left my old school.

" Hey fag!" " Haha you little faggot!" Hey the new kids gay!" As I ran down the hallway people yelled these things into my face. I don't know how the word spread so fast, that he called me a faggot. I've never told anyone I was gay exept for my mum.

This school, and every school I go to is full of homophobic ass holes.And being gay is an insult to everyone, every where. I just don't want to be the gay outcast this time.

And I personally don't like the word ' homophobic' it's counted as a fear, and if you're homophobic, you're not scared, you're an asshole.