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

Chapter Two~ Day One

I tentatively pushed the door open and walked with my head bent, to the back of the classroom and took an empty seat near the window.

I looked around and watched with longing eyes as I saw other students laughing and joking around, throwing paper airplanes across the room.

I wish I could be part of that.

I wish I could have a friend to talk to, to joke with...

The only friend I've ever had in all of my years, was Harry.

Okay, that was a lie...

There was always my cousin, Josh. But he lived all the way over in Dublin, so we email each other.

But a friend that I could hang out with physically? That has always and only been Harry. And that's over with now. The only person who had ever willingly talked to me, ever noticed me, or even cared about me was Harry.

And now he hated me.

And he was my teacher...

My teacher.

Talk about awkward. I remember him specifically saying that he wanted to go into some kind of teaching career, but I had never given it much thought. 

I can say with total confidence that this is the first time I have ever been glad to be a nobody, because that pretty much means that teachers pay me no mind once so ever. I have never liked it until now.

This year may be the first year it may come in handy, too.

Though my teacher is Harry, so who knows. Maybe he'll actually call on me. Maybe he'll pick on me. From what I know of him, he would never do that. Although that was before all of this. Back when we were on speaking terms.

But this new Harry, this cold, stoic side of him I had never met before.

I turned to the front of the class, shaking stranious thoughts out of my head as the bell rang and Harry walked in. 

I stared, watching as he quieted the class down and took attendance. 

Something caught my eye, though, on the whiteboard behind him.

His name, written in neat cursive writing. 

Except, it wasn't Harry written there...

It hadn't even occurred to me yet, that I'd have to call him Mr. Styles now. That was weird. Imagine having a crush on the one person whom ever paid attention to you, and suddenly they're your teacher and you're calling them Mr/Mrs. whatever their last name is.

Okay, that wasn't the best description, but I'm not good at explaining things.

I hadn't even known his last name until now.

Harry Styles? That sounded too fancy for him, like a name for a super star or something, not some gay teacher.

Okay, that was a little harsh, but I didn't mean it like that... There was nothing wrong with gay people. Or teachers. Okay, well maybe some teachers. But that's not the point.

Mr. Styles...

I zoned out a bit, just watching as he introduced himself and the carriculum.

And that's when the next big thing occurred to me...

I felt so slow.

I sighed, laying my head on my desk and squeezing my eyes shut, wallowing in a truckload of self pity. Great. I had him for English.

Of course. Of all possible subjects, it had to be fucking English. My worst subject...

For obvious reasons.

But he hadn't known that. For all he knew, I was some academically proclaimed excelling student. Considering Journalistic Writing camp, I must have also seemed like some exceptionally smart youth writer.

Since I made it in three years short of the requirements. 

Too bad it was almost the exact opposite. 

But he couldn't know. 

He already thinks so ill of me now, already thinks I'm a lying asshole, I don't want him to think I'm a freak idiot too.

But it wasn't my fault. I swear.

I was born like this, I was born with this fucking disability, I didn't want it.

I didn't want it.

I was born with it.

I was cursed with it.

But I guess someone had to be. Someone had to be the stupid invisible freak, right?

There was always that one kid in the back of the classroom who couldn't even read aloud without stuttering.

Because of this I would never be normal.  

I looked back up at him and for a second our eyes met.  For a second I had this crazy notion that maybe we could just be teacher and student.  But then his eyes hardened and I knew that wouldn't happen.  The one person I felt like I could open up to, be even partially myself with, hated me. 

****

Luckyily, the first day of class was just introducing all the new material, so I didn't have to really do anything.  Namely, read out loud. The only painful part was when I would look up to him and he would avoid looking my direction.  Like he was disgusted with me.  I didn't blame him.  I would be too.  Then again, it wasn't my fault we met up like this.  I had no idea that he would end up being my teacher.

 I rushed out the door as fast as I could, but froze when I heard his voice.

"Mr. Horan."  I reluctantly turned back around, but against my will my heart sped up.  

Calm down. I told myself.  He's probably just going to yell at you.  He probably just wants to tell you how much he hates you.  As I thought this, my gut twisted.  I hated myself.  Why had I gone and lied about my age?  I wish I could take it all back.  Go back to being invisible.  Conflict wasn't for me.

"Yes, Mr. Styles?"  It rolled off my tongue weird and I wondered if it was the same way for him.  

He was shuffling papers on his desk, and when he looked up, I flinched.  His gaze was hard, emotionless.  "I hope that our acquaintance won't be a problem in this class."

Acquaintance.  Not friendship.  Had we even been friends?  It had seem like it.  But then again, I had killed any chance of that a long time ago.  I swallowed hard and shook my head. 

"No...No sir."  I bowed my head, not wanting to see his face anymore.  Harry slapped the papers down on the desk and I jumped.  

"Good."  I looked up cautiously, and his back was turned to me.  

"You are dismissed."  I flinched but nodded, swallowing hard, and left.

A/N: Wazzap mah peeps?!

S and V here, done with the second Chappie. Hope you like it!

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