Little Dandelion ➳ Larry

- PART TWO -

PART TWO

"I don't get it," Louis mumbled to himself, fingers ghosting over Harry's towering shelf. It was stuffed with all kinds of books— picture books and novels, classics and moderns, fictions and biographies. His bright blue irises flickered over their colorful bindings.

"Get what?" Harry hummed, eyes glancing up from his novel, which appearing to be more interesting than his best mate.

He was sitting at his desk with To Kill A Mockingbird in his hands, reading about the adventures of young Scout Finch. Louis had invited himself over, as per usual, but Harry didn't mind because he always enjoyed Louis's company.

Louis huffed. "Why do you like reading so much?" he asked. He plopped down on Harry's twin-sized race car bed and propped himself up on his elbows, awaiting an answer.

Harry shrugged. "Why don't you like reading?"

"Because it's so boring!" Louis drawled, rolling his eyes.

"I think it's fun," Harry shrugged.

"But you're smart," Louis grumbled. His eyes dropped from Harry's and his face suddenly seemed serious. "And I'm so stupid," he pouted.

Harry was a bit taken back by his sudden outburst. He glanced up from his book, remembering to place a marker between the pages, of course. He raised an eyebrow at his friend precariously.

"Lou. You are not stupid. Trust me," he insisted. He honestly didn't know why someone as charismatic as Louis would think they were even the slightest bit dull-witted.

"Even my teacher said I'm stupid."

Harry paused. "What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Jane. She was my teacher last year, y'know, at my old school?"

Harry nodded understandingly. "What about her?" he pressed on.

"She said I don't learn normally. I get numbers and letters mixed up. And sometimes I don't know how to phrase words right. Then I went to a special doctor and he told me I'm dys-dyslexic?" Louis said cautiously, not exactly sure how to pronounce it.

"You're dyslexic?"

Louis nodded slowly. He blushed and began fiddling with Harry's dorky Superman bed sheets, twisting the fabric between his fingers just to distract himself from Harry's questioning gaze.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about," Harry claimed.

"Easy for you to say. You're smart," Louis scoffed.

That wasn't an exaggeration, either. Harry had previously been given the opportunity to skip a grade or two, but his mother refused. She wanted her son to experience all of school and enjoy it to its fullest extent.

Harry bit his lip. "For what it's worth, I think you're very smart," he said, giving his best mate a warm smile.

"Really?" Louis said apprehensively.

"Really."

Louis gulped. He wanted to believe Harry, he really did, but he just couldn't. You see, every morning Joseph would make Louis read the back of cereal boxes or the labels on milk cartons. Whenever Louis stuttered the words or slipped up, Joseph would say, you're stupid, you're worthless, you'll never amount to anything. Thus, the words were engraved into Louis's brain and he eventually began to believe them, too.

"When we start school in September, you'll see how stupid I am," Louis muttered.

Harry slumped his shoulders, sighing. "You're very smart. Maybe school isn't your forte, but you're plenty good other things—"