Untitled [l.s.] - ON HOLD

two

It's funny. We're attracted to someone we meet just by looks, then we learn to fall in love with them as time progresses. I can't help but wonder if it'll be the same with this stranger someday.

Look at me, coming to conclusions.

The blue-eyed stranger laughs and just shakes it off.

"No, that's okay. You've had a rough day, you said? You look a bit scratched up." the stranger says and laughs a little. I break and smile.

"Yeah, got into a little of an altercation." I say, and he sighs of realization.

"Ah. I won't ask. What's your name? We really should both be in school, but hey, why not make a new friend?" the stranger smiles, and I find my real voice.

"Harold, but I prefer to be called Harry. You?"

"Louis. It's nice to meet you! I'm seventeen, in year 12 over at the secondary school down the block." he shakes my hand.

"Me too. That's really weird because I've never seen you." I say, and he smiles again.

"Well, it's my first year here since I moved from America. My family and I have been unpacking and settling into our new house. I just started a couple days ago." he explains, and I find myself smiling at his cute American accent.

"I've lived here all my life." I tell him, and he makes a duh face.

"Your accent is stronger than my dad on a Sunday." he laughs, but I don't because I don't get it. "Aw, if you had've lived with us back in Georgia..." he trails off, and I nod.

"So, are you going back to school?" I ask him, and he nods.

"Yeah, we can go back together?" he offers, and I shake my head.

"I, er, can't."

"Wh- oh, that's why you're scratched up! You got in a fight and got suspended!" he claps like he's just won the lottery. "That's amazing, action in my first few days here."

"Not really. But I gotta get going, so," quickly so I'll be able to stop myself from asking you to be my boyfriend.

"No, I can walk with you."

"That's playing truant, you'll get suspended, too," I tell him, and he smirks.

"Harold, I'm from Atlanta, Georgia, and I like to skip classes when there's a friend in need of a good talk," he says as I start walking.

"It's Harry," I mutter, stuffing my dirty fists in my pockets.

"Right, Harold," he chuckles and catches up with me. "So, why a fight?"

"It was nothing big." yes, it was. Getting in a rumble with a fellow classmate is unlike me in so many ways.

"You're totally lying. Come on, you can trust me, tell me."

"I just met you. Literally."

"Well, I pinky swear that I won't tell a soul." he holds out his pinky as if we're back in primary.

"No offense, Lewis, but I don't too much appreciate telling others what's personal to me. I don't think I have to be forced to talk about something I don't want to talk about," I explain, trying to walk faster so he won't continue walking with me.

"Lou-ee. My mom's part British, I thank her every day for my name, and I'd appreciate if it was pronounced right."

"Just as I'd like to be called Harry."

"Here's a deal. I'll call you Harry if you call me..." he ponders a moment. "Lou."

"Really? That's not too personal?"