All the Boys

3. Pursuing Interests

        "Charlie!" Shouted my mom, "Wake up!"

     "Mom, it's the weekend!" I moaned, noticing it was only six thirty. She didn't hear me; she continued to call my name for ten minutes. I heard footsteps approaching when the door burst open, and I quickly covered my head with the duvet.

        "Charlie, I've got practice at seven and mom's going out to the market with Aunt Jane. We have to go or I'll have to run extra laps," Henley sighed, "Can we go now?"

        I moaned into my pillow as I rolled over, Henley in the doorway, dressed in an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt with a huge hole in the side. One of his socks had fallen down over his shin guard and rested at his ankles. What a dork.

        "If you can fix me a baggie of cereal I'll be ready in five minutes," I sighed.

        "Fine," He sighed, shutting the door, dragging his feet as he walked downstairs. I got out of bed and pulled on a nearby pair of jeans that may not have been clean, and a zipped sweatshirt off the hook on the wall. I ran downstairs and pulled on the nearest pair of shoes and went to the kitchen. Henley was pouring cereal in a baggie as he filled his water bottle at the sink.

        "Mum also said to pick up Bernie from the vet," Henley said as he handed me the bag of cereal, most of which were crumbs from the bottom of the box.

        "Are you kidding?" I sighed. I was supposed to meet Pavarti and Nina at North Greenwich to catch a ride into town to get lunch. Guess I would have to ring them later. I walked out to the car, Henley lugging his bag behind him.

        "Do you have keys? I can't pick you up today, alright?" I sighed, "Get a ride home, alright?"

        "Fine, fine I got it," Henley sighed as he pulled open the door to the car. I sped down the road and across town to his private school, where most boys were still running laps. Henley snuck past his coach and ran with the others in an attempt to avoid getting a tardy reprimand. I stood by the car and smiled. I heard a bike blow past, and the tires screeched to a halt.

        "Charlie?" Called a voice. I whirled around at the familiar sound of a soft Irish accent. Niall was on a bright blue bike, the basket containing a single newspaper. He took his hood off and backed up his bike.

        "Niall," I said, crossing my arms as he got off his bike, violently putting down the kickstand. He ran a hand through his hair before he put his hands in his pockets.

        "You never texted me, y'know," He said, looking down the street before looking at me.

        "I have no idea what you're talking about," I lied, looking at my nails.

        "Oh please, like you didn't see it," Niall scoffed, rolling his eyes.

        "Alright," I admitted, "I saw it. But I wasn't obligated to text you unless I gave you my number as well."

        "We can easily get that out of the way," Niall said, putting his hands on his hips, feeling for his phone in his pocket. I turned away and shook my head, wrapping my sweatshirt around me to keep me warm.

        "CUTE BOYFRIEND, CHARLIE!" Shouted Henley from the track. A long whistle blew from the bleachers.

        "Pierson, keep running! No harassing pedestrians!" Shouted the coach from the side of the field. I put a hand on my face and sighed. When I looked up, Niall was leaning on my car, his arm extended far behind me.