Forbidden {L.S.}

Chapter Six

After a while, tutoring with Tomlinson had died down to the kids who actually needed the help and not all the girls who went to try to flirt with him, which I was grateful for. It was hard enough trying to get caught up on twenty thousand assignments without girls giggling ever second over what he did.

I was tapping my pencil on the desk while going over an English assignment when my phone started ringing. I groaned and stood up, walking to the doorway and answering it. “Hey, dad.”

“Where are you?” He sounded drunk, which was never good.

“At school,” I looked at Tomlinson, who was already watching me. I nodded towards the hall and he motioned for me to leave, so I stepped outside and closed the door. “I always stay until like five,” I reminded him in a bored voice.

“You need to come home,” he said. He wasn't demanding, even if he was I wouldn't. Him being drunk plus my parents fighting was never a good combination.

“If you and Mom are fighting, I’m not. I need to get my homework done and I can't focus when you guys are screaming.” I punched my nose and then rubbed my face. “And my guess is that you are.”

“We're not fighting. We hate that you're never home. Why aren't you home? Is it because of-”

“I'm not coming home tonight, I'm not having this conversation now,” I said. “We agreed not to talk about that.”

“Harry-”

“I really need to finish this assignment. I'll be home tomorrow.” I hung up the phone and shook my head, then pinching the bridge of my nose. I hated when they did this. They didn't need to try to bring me into all of their fights.

I sighed before knocking on the door, which only took Tomlinson about thirty seconds to open. “Everything good?” He asked as I walked in.

I started walking backwards, putting my hands on the desk to make sure I wouldn't trip. “Yeah, just checking in.”

He gave me a doubtful look, but dropped it. I nodded, mostly to myself, and sat down in my seat. I picked up my pencil and finished the English assignment without too much thought. I just needed to keep myself distracted, and anything would be better than English. English usual drove me nuts to begin with and I had to be super concentrated to be able to get any of the underlying messages or anything else that was usually in the text. To me, it was just a bunch of words on a piece of paper that told a story. Why did it have to be any more complicated than that?

Not really caring if the answers were right, I pulled out my phone and texted Niall, asking if I would be able to come over for the night. Waiting on his answer, I pulled out my math homework and got about halfway through it before I decided I had done enough. Mrs. Johnson was being lenient with me anyways, I could probably get an extension on the assignment if I asked tomorrow. If not, I’d finish it as lunch.

Niall responded and I stood up, grabbing my bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tomlinson.”

“Bye, Harry,” he replied. I walked out the door and outside, waiting on Niall to come pick me up.

When he got there, I jumped in and sighed. “My dad’s drunk again.”

“Those ones are the worst, aren’t they?” He asked. I nodded with a sigh. “Well, don’t worry. Good ol’ brother Niall has your back.”

“You’re a lifesaver dude, you don’t even know,” I told him. He would probably blow it off like he always does, but I don't know what I would do if I didn't have him.

“I try. Mom cooked tonight.”

“Oh, I'm excited,” I laughed. “Dude, Tomlinson is like my favorite teacher.”

“He's everyone's favorite, even if they don't have him. Is it really that surprising?” Niall asked.

I shrugged. “I just had to officially announce it.”

“Well, apparently the feelings mutual, so you have that going for you. You'll probably never have anything under and ninety-five.”

“I have an eighty-eight in there right now,” I told him. “He doesn't treat me any differently!”

“You're turning into a history nerd and he's loving it,” Niall taunted.

“So now there's something wrong with liking history?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

Niall raised an eyebrow. “When it used to be your most hated class? A little bit. You willingly look up events we're not even going over that happen in the same time period, Harry. History Nerd.”

“You can fuck off, Niall,” I mumbled. He just laughed and shook his head.

Niall sighed. “We need to do something.”

“Shhh,” I swatted at his face, shoving my face further into the pillow. “I'm exhausted.”

It was just after eleven and I had been reading the book we needed to be reading for history while Niall watched some show on Netflix. I couldn't even think straight at this point, let alone have a conversation.

“Harry,” he whined. “You're so boring.”

“Sleep,” I shushed again, sighing contently. “Sleep is good.”

“Yeah, fine, be boring.” Niall threw the blanket over me. “Get some rest, H.