Faux » n.s [boyxboy]

c. 6

Chapter Six

"I broke up with the douche yesterday." Louis monotoned, waving a fry in front of my face for whatever goddamn reason he has as a grin found its way to my lips.

"And?"

"Honestly don't remember his name."

I cackled like a witch who discovered and tried pot brownies for the first time, "'S Crackhead." Louis sent me a loving smile before he decided patting my head was a good idea. Thankfully, he's some sort of dumb genius because I really kind of like it when people touched my hair.

It's best not to question it.

Zayn dropped his tray on the table, moving to sit right across me. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Hiya, partner."

Zayn shot Louis a funny look for his choice of words, but quickly shook it off just as he grabbed a hold of his tuna sandwich. "So, what'd I miss?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Louis already cut me off. "I'm single."

He raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Yeah. Broke up with him yesterday. I told him his days of using my fame and fortune expired long ago and that he could go pack his two-faced ass while skipping to the sound of my joyous laughter."

"Is it bad that I feel a bit frightened?" Luke responded as he walked up to us with his paper bag of lunch. He sat next to Zayn, pulling out a tuna sandwich - which was quite funny because Zayn saw it and they had this mini talk about being sandwich buddies - and a salad.

"Nah, you aren't my ex."

These idiots were intelligent - aside from Louis -, but idiots nonetheless.

I don't blame them. I, the smartest guy on campus, am one as well.

In fact, I am such a ginormous idiot, I managed to fall into a deep attraction towards a certain faux blonde who had the bitchiest attitude for someone who claimed he wasn't a flaming homosexual. And no matter how much he gabbers about how he's only pansexual and not completely committed to being gay, I ( and everyone else aside from his moronic sidekicks ) simply will not believe it.

And so it shall be written on my stone; Niall Horan is gay and we all know it.

That hot bastard will walk in here any minute to start a fight, even when he's smart enough to know that isn't the smartest decision.

The amount of jerkiness I've obtained surprised me too. I guess I could say Niall Horan was starting to rub off on me, but due to the fact that we only really conversed twice ( and had bipolar conversations at that ) I couldn't conclude. This is odd, isn't it?

It was just a week ago when I would shit my pants when Niall comes near, and now I'm basically owning up to him like a man.

"Hey, queers."

Or maybe not. I'm shitting my pants, I'm shitting my pants.

An expected groan from Louis tumbled quick, and he looked so ready to strangle the Irish jerk. "The fuck you want, Horan?"

"Just checking how my favorite faggots are doing," he snarled almost bitterly, a humorless laugh cutting sharp like knives. "Don't cause another fucking scene, Horan."

"Is that all you can do, bitch? Throw curse words at me and call me by my last name?" His eyes narrowed and a scoff escaped his lips. I'm still frozen in my spot. "How about you, Styles? Care to do the same like this lame brained-boyfriend of yours? Honestly? What bad taste you have."