Faux » n.s [boyxboy]

c. 2

Chapter Two

"The dump contains more than half a million people's trash, and since no household throws only one piece of rubbish out a year, it's multiplied. This is a serious problem, for trash cannot be completely destroyed, only recycled or turned into something else. Even the pollutants in the air were once solid waste." Zayn said while biting down on a strawberry.

"The expression of 'biting down' on something is flawed. Your jaw is the one thing that moves up, rather than moves down. Does that change it and make it 'biting up'?" I completely used what Zayn was doing to support my side of the 'fact game' Zayn and I liked to play when we hang out. Seemingly boring, yes, but highly appropriate for learners such as Zayn and yours truly.

I know, I know, I'm a nerd.

"There are much more ants in the world than humans."

"Lip balm doesn't moisturize your lips; it even dries them."

Zayn looked up at me from his position on my couch. "Really? Damn. Looks like I won't be using mine anymore. Are you sure about it, though? ...Well, my lips have been feeling dryer after applying it. All the commercials from Maybelline have been complete lies. Moisturizing damn lips, they said... Now I feel cheated."

"I saw it once in the internet," I rolled over so I laid on my tummy, "It looked real, but the site didn't seem all too credible."

"Where did you get it?"

"A Facebook page called 'Facts'." I hid my face in shame.

"Wow," he sat up, "You sure you're going to be part of the honor roll?" I laughed and nodded.

Silence overthrew our conversation and I laid on my back, intertwining my hands and using them to supporting my head. Zayn was the one who broke the silence. "Have you thought of a sport yet?" He asked earnestly. I pondered, did I have a sport in mind? "Lacrosse, I guess."

"Cool." He smiled. "That's my suggestion."

I chuckled, "Sure is."

"Did you not favor Louis'? He's your best friend."

I turned to give him a 'You serious?' look. "Best friend or not, he knows I disliked both sports he offered." I don't hate them, it's just that I was absolutely useless with both, but I'd rather not admit that to Zayn.

"Niall's the lacrosse team captain, though. He might make your life hell, knowing he's a dick especially to your best friend."

"Shit," I whispered, "I completely forgot about that." Niall's the team captain. How stupid can you be, Harry?

A mixture of both fear and joy bubbled up inside. Fear because, fuck, that boy is hardcore scary when he tries. He loved to harass Louis with his harsh and bitter words, and sometimes the brunette couldn't fight back. He was too skilled, apparently. And don't you just find that scary? Louis can't fight back.

Joy since I happen to really think the guy's fit, straight or not. I don't label myself as anything and it will stay that way.

I don't think you should call me pansexual, though. I'm just saying, don't label me under anything. Label me as Harry Styles, the attractive valedictorian.

Again, fear because the guy's strangely homophobic even if he outed himself for being pansexual. He'd probably be Charles High's heartthrob, for both sex, if he wasn't such a jerk. No lie.

"Ever wondered why our school mascot's a chipmunk?" I threw the question at Zayn as I got up to have a bowl of cereal. Cereal might be a breakfast food, and the afternoon is nothing like morning, but I blame laziness. "Believe it or not, I thought it was because Charles started with a 'c' and 'h'."

"If it's like that," I poured the milk, "shouldn't we have considered a cheetah? Or maybe a chameleon. We hardly even have chipmunks in our campus."

"Harry, we don't have cheetahs either, but that's a good thing."

"It'd be cool to have chameleons around, though. Do you think maybe our campus is filled with them, but their skills at camouflaging themselves in our surroundings help them hide from us?"

He sighed, "I would've accidentally stepped on one by now after three years, don't you think?"

I nodded and decided to change it back to our original topic. The one at hand became a bit pointless, "Anyway, Luke was part of the team, you said. I could always ask for tips from the lad. Not too much since that'd be... too much."

"You lack in the art of working humor."

"You lack in the art of being of interest," I mimicked. This is what I do on a Saturday afternoon. I eat a spoonful of Cornflakes, nearly struggling to chew the contents in my mouth.

Zayn stood up and mindlessly made his way to my fridge, probably to rid me of my edible food items. "Luke is good. Both in the sport and as a person. I don't think he'd be bothered if you asked him for help, yeah? And where do you keep your drinking glasses?"

"Third drawer to your left," I monotoned as I consumed another spoonful. This has whole grains, it's supposed to be good for you. "Could he land me a spot on the team, perhaps?"

"You've got to train and learn the sport, mate. Otherwise your weak and lazy efforts would be a flop."

I made a sound of agreement, but it probably sounded like a goat on steroids. "Damn right."

He laughed and sat down next to me, pouring milk into his glass. "Best of luck, Styles."

"You wear lip balm." I said out of the blue.

He stuck his tongue out, "Chapstick, even."

Louis would like to hear that, especially since he's got some sort of lip balm fetish, I almost snickered.

"Cool."