Burning Skies » larry

Chapter 2

Harry's first week of classes wasn't as bad as he'd expected. His first four days consisted of going to class, eating lunch with Niall (they always claimed the circular table at the end of the cafeteria which only had two seats so Harry didn't have to worry about any of Niall's other friends suddenly joining them), spending time in the library whenever Niall had some extra activities or one final class to take, and then driving home and spending the rest of the night in his room, nose buried in a book.

Harry could proudly say that he had a talent for being practically invisible. Luckily, no one had bothered befriending him or even talking to him, probably because of Harry's overall unwelcoming appearance, paired with his skittishness and tendency to dash out of the room after every class. If everything continued this way, Harry didn't have to worry about anything.

Unfortunately, his little bubble of peace didn't last very long. On Friday night, Niall barged into his room, startling Harry from where he was seated at his desk, reviewing his notes from his classes and considering whether or not he should rewrite them, simply because he'd run out of things to do.

"Hey. Busy?" Niall asked, plopping on the foot of his bed.

Harry shrugged. "Not really."

"Great!" Niall said excitedly, walking toward him and leaning his back on Harry's desk. "Get dressed, then."

Before Harry could ask why he even needed to get dressed, his mind traveled back to their conversation with Liam a few days ago. About the party on Friday night, which was, tonight.

Harry gave him a stern look. "Niall."

"You know what, out of the kindness of my heart, I'm going to pick out your outfit." Niall ignored him and began rummaging through his closet.

Harry groaned, twisting on his seat to watch his friend. "Niall, I'm serious. Didn't we talk about this?"

"You should try these new skinny jeans we got, it'll look great on you. Then maybe...not a t-shirt because that's all you've been wearing...how about a button up? Don't you have that black, silky one?" Niall said, tossing clothes over his shoulder. Harry watched as they landed on the floor in a messy pile.

"Could you please listen to me?" Harry pleaded. He couldn't help the slight tremor in his voice. The mere idea of a party—a place where people lose control because of alcohol, a place where there are no professors to focus on, or no bells ringing to announce its end made Harry nervous. He could barely get through each day in school as it was, so how on earth did Niall think Harry could manage a party?

Niall stopped what he was doing, turning around to face him, looking guilty. "I'm sorry. It's just—you did so well this week, Haz. This party will be fun. You can meet people and make friends."

"You're my friend." Harry pointed out.

"I know I'm great and all, but really, you could meet so many other people out there who you'll get along with like you get along with me, if not better." Niall said gently, adding as an afterthought, "Don't want you to get sick of me, either. So."

At this point, Harry was full-on frowning. "I don't need other friends. Having you as my friend is already a risk on its own. I don't want to drag other people into my mess."

Niall had basically been the only person Harry had spoken to in the past year, and that was fine. He'd earned Niall's trust and in return, he trusted Niall with his life. Niall was the only person in this world who knew Harry's secret and would still never, ever sell him out. He didn't think he could trust another person as much as he trusted his best friend, so why bother?