Can I Cry? (A Narry Storan Teacher/Student Fan Fiction)

Chapter One~ Memory Lane

I locked the bathroom door and sat on the toilet, trying to squeeze back tears.

But the memories were hot in my mind, already feeling foggy and far away...

***

I looked at the sign in the assembly room, hanging above the podium. I took my seat and squinted, trying to see it better.

It read, "GUEST SPEAKER OF THE DAY: Ella Fitsgerald"

"You heard of her?" The curly haired boy to my right whispered as everyone else filed into the assembly building.

I looked over at him and looked back behind me, then to my left.

Was he talking to me?

I raised my eyebrows and blinked a few times, chuckling to myself in disbelief. "U-um, yeah... I read her novel last year."

He nodded, smiling at me, flashing his perfectly white, straight teeth.

I still couldn't believe he was even paying me any mind. I turned away to hide my blush, my heart pounding feverously in my chest.

"Hey, you okay?" I heard him ask.

I suddenly felt self-conscious of my braces, and closed my mouth as I nodded and smiled back. I looked back up to the stage, but apparently Ella hadn't arrived yet.

I ran my tongue across my braces, suddenly not able to wait until Journalistic Writing Camp ended so I could go to my orthadontist appointment and get rid of my mouth-metal for good.

"I'm Harry." He smiled, grabbing my attention again and sticking his hand out for me to shake.

This time I couldn't hide my blush as I shook his hand. "N-Niall. I'm Niall."

Harry nodded intently, as if thinking about my uncommon title.

"You look young for being here. How old are you?"

My chest started hammering in my chest again.

This was the first individual attention I'd had in years, and it was already going downhill. I didn't want to just come out and tell him I was an academic genius, so even though I was three years shy of the regimends, I was still one of the elite members.

I didn't want him to judge me...

So I just added a few years. No harm there, right?

"N-Nineteen..." Why was I stuttering so much?

"Oh, so you just barely met the requirements! Lucky, not many teenagers get in." Harry commented, his eyes now back to the stage. "I barely made it in, and I'm 23."

I swallowed my nervousness as Ella Fitsgerald adjusted her microphone and began her lecture.

Two Months Later, July 2nd

"Can somebody get the door?" I heard my dad shout from downstairs. I paused and sat my sketchbook and pencils down on my bed, listening while I heard Greg greet the people downstairs at the front door.

It was pointless.

I already knew who it was

"Hello, Mr. Horan," I heard Harry's mother, Anne, greet my father. "It's so nice to finally meet you! Thank you so much for the invitation to dinner."

My dad chuckled quite loudly at that. "It's my pleasure. It's not often the little one makes friends."

The little one? Did Dad forget my name? It would make sense, since he nor mom had said it in so long.