the glass boy || l.s.

CHAPTER THREE

HARRY

"I'm serious, Niall! It was a full-palm smack on my.. my buttocks!"

Niall and I walked side by side down the halls towards the school cafeteria. I didn't even bother to lower my voice upon mentioning the situation I was in involving my lower back, I felt that way Niall would see I was really telling the truth. Niall spun around so he was walking backwards to make eye contact with me.

"Okay, H, relax! I believe you.. And this happened when?" Niall put his palms up defensively.

"Last Thursday night. The night you texted me about your father's dinner."

He rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, what were you even doing in Walmart?"

I rolled my eyes when he crinkled his nose in displeasure. "I wanted to buy milk so I could make some pancakes and before you nag me about having a cook to do that for me-- I prefer to be independent. Unfortunately, Walmart doesn't sell Nakazawa Foods' milk."

"Duh, it's Walmart, Haz. Not Gucci."

I was about to tell Niall Gucci doesn't have any branches that sell dairy products but he took me by the hand and pulled me along, not giving me a chance to form a proper sentence. We queued at the shortest line and got our usuals; ham and cheese sandwiches for both of us but Niall had extra sides -- pizza, corn dogs and coleslaw.

Niall and I went to our usual spot, at the middle of the cafteria right under a bright single pendant. We munched on our food silently, not because it was awkward or void of topics to converse about, Niall just preferred to savour his food to the max. Once we were finished, we wiped our lips with napkins.

"Hang on for a second-- actually," I glanced at my watch. "One minute and 37 seconds."

We both stood up, Niall stretching his limbs and I gathered our plates and cutlery. I walked towards the familiar blue basin full of dirty dishes at the corner of the cafeteria and placed ours on top of the stack. Niall was against this, he said we pay them to do their job, Haz, but I didn't see it as a hassle at all.

Once I washed my hands, I quickly walked back to Niall who was rubbing his stomach contentedly. I glanced my watch.

"One minute and 35 seconds," I announced to Niall. He just shrugged.

"Okay, dork, let's get moving."

Before we could pass the cafeteria doors, a hand lingered on my shoulder and I turned to be greeted by hazel eyes. Standing 5'10" in our school uniform before me was Nick Grimshaw, one of our star football players. He had his hands behind his back and there was a shyness in his smile.

Niall cleared his throat and eyed us skeptically. I knew Niall wasn't too fond of him because Nick was one of the prefects in our school, and Nick was the one who specifically told Mr. Krasinski about Niall dying his hair. I reassured Niall that Nick was just doing his job, to which he strongly disagreed and believed Nick was just trying to get on his nerves.

"Oh. Greetings, Mr. Grimshaw," I offered my hand out to him.

Nick's smile grew wider. "No need for formalities, Harry. We've already made acquaintance at your dad's party last year."

Nick's father was a renowned publisher, he helped my father publish his first ever journal on the evolution of different types of butterflies and how the society plays a role in maintaining their habitat. Every year, they would have a party just to celebrate how far they've come.

Last year, Mr. Grimshaw brought his son along and introduced him to me. We both found humour in the fact that neither of us noticed the other's existence, despite studying in the same school that had a limited amount of students.