how you get the boy

fourteen

I stared at the scene unravelling ahead of me with deep furrows in my brow and distaste in the back of my throat.

Everyone was talking over one another in an attempt to be heard, their voices making the dull ache spread throughout my head like climbing vines. Which explained why instead of joining Louis, I decided to stand by the corner of the living room, the spot nearest the door so I could escape whenever I wanted to.

The thought of tomorrow's test that weighed heavily on my mind reminded me that I had to leave soon so I could find somewhere quiet and study if I didn't want to end up failing the class, but I had no other place to go. Shiloh was out with some of her friends whom I'd never met and Niall, well, he's here.

And for once, I was angry with Louis for choosing possibly the worst time to invite nearly everyone that he knew to our flat despite the fact that he'd apologised to me profusely earlier when he realised that he'd just ruined my study night. He also claimed that if he knew I had a test tomorrow, he would've cancelled this, to which I assured that it's fine – it wasn't – and to which he told me that I should join him. If I wanted to, that is.

So, joined him I did, but fifteen minutes was all it took for me to withdraw myself from everyone and Louis with the excuse of wanting to get something to drink in the kitchen. It wasn't entirely a lie because I did get myself another bottle of beer. It was a bad idea to drink the night before a test, but because there's a group of blokes standing in front of my room and because I wasn't in the mood to squeeze myself between these people, I'd come to terms that I was stuck out here until the crowd eventually lessened.

As I took a sip of the beer, my eyes darted around the living room in search for a familiar face; I spotted a few. Louis was talking to his friends whom I'd met a few times before – the ones who'd never missed a single party thrown by Louis – and I realised that I didn't remember their names. I doubted they remembered mine too, so the guilt I felt earlier dissipated and my eyes continued wandering around, moving from one drunken stranger to another.

And that was when my eyes landed on Harry. The one person I didn't think would be here, but he was.

His long fingers were wrapped around the neck of the bottle and every ten seconds, he would bring it up to his lips and took a few sips of the cold beer. His eyes were solely fixed on the blonde head girl – I was pretty certain she went to some of my classes because she seemed oddly familiar – who was standing dangerously close to him.

Their close proximity convinced me that they could feel each other's breaths on their cheeks, could hear each other's heartbeats; I scoffed at the thought of the girl probably enjoying that. Her head, then, was thrown back, her silky hair cascading down her bare back when he said something in her ear. Knowing Harry, it was probably something that wasn't even funny, but she laughed anyway and I rolled my eyes at the sight in front of me.

"So," I jumped at the sound of the voice coming from my left, almost losing grip on the bottle I was holding. A relieved sigh escaped my lips when I realised that it was just Niall. His flushed cheeks and glossy eyes were all the indications I needed to know that he was, much like everyone else, smashed. However, by the squint of his eyes, I knew that I wasn't going to like whatever he was about to say. "Are you jealous, Tee?"

I was convinced that no one gave him enough credit. Niall, albeit a bit too loud than necessary, had always been someone who noticed a lot of things. Things that usually nobody paid attention to, things that slipped past everyone apart from him.

As much as I hated to admit it, I didn't give him enough credit too. I hated the idea of not being able to keep anything from him because sometimes I just needed the reassurance that no one could really see through me. But if I learned anything for the past few months, Niall could.