New Guy on the Street (Larry)

I'm not gonna lie; it was a pretty nice house. It wasn't big; it wasn't small. The house was in a nice sized neighbourhood that didn't have too many people, but didn't have too little. When my mother first drove up and woke me informing that we were home, I was actually surprised at the house. I don't think we are supposed to be able to afford a home like this one.

"This could be it, Harry," my mom says excitedly. "I think this is the one." She's only said that one a thousand times. Every time we move its the same thing; she gets dumped, we pack up, we get a home, it's 'the one', she gets in a relationship, she gets dumped, we pack up, and we leave again. I've been over it for so long. During the car ride here, I decided to not even unpack. It's pointless. Why should I even have to unpack if we're going to move again next month? I feel like one of those army kids honestly.

"Are you so sure?" I question my mom. "It seems every time you say that, we move again." She looks over to me.

"Yes Harry. I'm sure," she says grabbing my face between her hands. "Take in your things while I wait for the moving truck. Pick out any room." I nod and grab the backpack that I brought in the car with me. The steps in front of the house are stone and look like they could be dangerous if they were wet. There's a few dried up flower beds next to the door. I roll my eyes as I can practically hear my mother telling me to go plant new ones. Once I've made it through the door, I look around. The first room was pretty decent size for a living room. I make my way down the hall and into the first bedroom I see. It wasn't small or big. I didn't even bother looking for a different room; we were just going to get up and leave again anyway. Sighing, I sat down against the empty wall and leaned my head back. I was ready to go to sleep.

The squeaking of the moving truck's breaks could have been heard from miles away. I took that as my sign to get up out of the floor and help my mother, who was still outside, more than likely trying to help the truck back into the driveway.

"Mom," I yell once I'm outside. She turns her head towards me and smiles. Behind her, a boy waves. He looks young, too young to be her type, but maybe she's desperate.

"Harry," my mom yells back. "Come here and meet our neighbor." So he's our neighbor. I nod and walk towards the two.

"This is Louis. He's an English teacher at your new school," she says with a grin.

"Well, not full time. I'll be one next year once I fully graduate," he cuts in. "I'm Louis Tomlinson," He says holding out his hand to me. I take it with a firm grasp.

"Harry Styles," I say giving him a charming smile. Louis grins back.

"I might just call you dimples," he says, poking my left cheek. I let out a laugh. "Or giggles."

"Harry's okay, Mr. Tomlinson," I say with a small grin. He smiles back.

"Well, you two talk while I go help the movers," my mom says eyeballing us. "Maybe if you're nice, Mr. Tomlinson will tell you about the school," she says, hinting at Mr. Tomlinson.

"Maybe," Louis says with a smirk.

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A/N I've been inspired by something.

~Charlotte.