In the Slums (Niall Horan)

-One-

One.

“Umm, I was wondering if you could help me find room B203? I’m new in town and sort of lost…” I rambled on, awkwardly scratching the back of my neck as I hoped to get some sign of life from the guy in the front of me.

“Whoa dude, slow down right now. I didn’t catch a word you said because that blue and white striped shirt is screaming awkward with a capital O,” said the guy, leaning against his locker with a dazed look on his face.

“Ok, that made no sense at all, but seriously can you help me find my class before I’m forced to send a flare out in pure desperation?” I asked him getting frustrated at I am already fifteen minutes late to my first class.

You would expect that the Wolverhampton High School would have been built in a way where students could actually be able to navigate themselves through the school without looking like a massive idiot but clearly I was wrong. Not only am I the short new kid who sticks out from my Irish accent and lack of Prince Harry jokes, but also now I am going to be the kid that gets lost on his way to his English class and is forced to get help from Wolverhampton’s resident stoner.

“Dude your voice sounds really funny! Are you like one of those undercover cops that gets sent into schools to like catch teenagers and such?” asked the boy slurring his word the more he talked.

“No, I am not a nark, because if I was you’d already have your hands handcuffed behind your back from the aroma of pot that is on you. So, now that we have that confusion all fixed up, can you please just gesture to me at least a left or a right as to which way room B203 is?” I asked the boy.

“Dude, B203 is just down the hall a bit,” said the boy pointing to my right.

“Thank you,” I said as I walked down the hall more annoyed than I was walking down it ten minutes ago.

When I finally reached the end of the hall and saw the small lettering ‘B203’ on the door I let out a sigh of both relief that I finally found my classroom and anger that it successfully took me twenty minutes to find it. I swear I should have just walked around the school’s halls with a poster saying ‘NEW KID’ duck taped on my shirt.

I hesitantly walked into the English classroom blushing like a maniac as all the students’ eyes were suddenly on me like I had two heads. I heard the snickers on some of the boys when they saw my moccasin shoes and Tommy Hilfiger socks and the whispers between a few of the girls that sat in the front of the class.

“Hi, I’m sorry I am late but I’m new to Wolverhampton and got lost on the way here…” I said quickly to the teacher as I walked towards her embarrassed from all the attention.

“Yes, you must be Niall Horan. I was notified that you are a particularly interesting new student and would need help adjusting,” said the teacher with a friendly smile on her face.

 “Wait, what?” I asked her confused as to why I am known as a ‘particularly interesting’ student.

I mean I know I’m an introverted, awkward boy with far too expensive clothes on right now but how could she know that I was weird so soon?

“Well the principle told me that you Niall Horan are from Ireland. So Niall, why don’t you introduce yourself to the class and let us in on a bit of your Irish heritage. I’m Mrs. Pent, your junior year English teacher,” said Mrs. Pent.

“Ok,” I said slowly as I turned my direction to face the room of twenty judgmental British students who looked like all they wanted to do was throw tomatoes at me.

“Yeah, tell us about yourself dorkface,” said one of the guys in the back of the classroom who was glaring at me.

 Wow, that kid really didn’t like me…

“Well as you know I’m Niall and am from Ireland. About Irish heritage, I guess I can say that I like corned beef and potatoes are a great source of economic value in Ireland,” I said rambling on getting more and more nervous.

 I seriously did not mention the economic value of potatoes! I’m ruined. I guess I should just cue the sad music and accept the fact that I am going to die a sixteen-year old virgin.

“And Niall, what sort of literature have you read in the Irish school system?” asked Mrs. Pent fascinated by me in some creepy sort of way.

“Well, we’ve read The Crucible, Oliver Twist, and The Tale of Two Cities,” I said just wanting to sit down and cover myself up with a hood.

“That sounds lovely Niall! Why don’t you take a seat,” said Mrs. Pent.

Ok, so they say that picking the right seat is crucial to the future of your social standing for the rest of school and I’d rather not be a social paria so early on in the day.

I had two possible seating options; the first was to sit next to the guy that has been glaring at me since I entered this class and would probably spit on me if I came anywhere close to him and the second was to sit next to a girl with smudged black eye shadow and numerous piercings that made me want to pee myself.

So, deciding on my fate for the rest of high school, I sat next to the girl…and I had never been so wrong about a person before.

“Bite me,” she whispered to me when I was starring at her for a while.

Nevermind. I am in hell.

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Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story so far! Feel free to commnet what you think, like, dislike or really anything at all! Thank you soooooo much!

        -Qourtney (Court)