Stand By Me

Chapter Fourteen

Niall stares at the contact pulled up on the screen of his phone, the bustle of the busy school hallway a distant hum to him as his focus remains solely on what he's looking at.

Are you sure you want to delete this number?

His thumb hovers, his heart races.
He's done listening to that same automated message on repeat every night. He's done with trying to call a person who clearly doesn't want anything to do with him anymore. His mother ran away when he needed her most, and now she's the one thing stopping him from being a permanent member of this new family that really cares about him.

He presses yes.

And just like that, the one way of contacting his mother is gone. Paul never let her have any social media and she doesn't have any friends that Niall might reach out to to ask about her. It's as if he's just wiped her entire existence from his life at the tap of a thumb and he doesn't feel sorry — he feels angry. He feels done.

She left him.
She never stayed to help him when Paul was around and she is here to help him now, and he refuses to continue to worry about her and wait for her when it's clear that she's doing neither of those things for him. Mothers are supposed to protect and take care of their children; she never put him first. It was always one boyfriend to the next until Paul and not once has she ever put Niall first, and all of the hurt that it brings him to acknowledge the fact that she doesn't love him is slowly being channeled into anger.

He stares at the screen as her number disappears with a clenched jaw and tensed shoulders, jumping when a pair of hands sets down on them from behind. He quickly shoves his phone into his pocket as Harry steps in front of him to lean against the wall outside of their science class, smiling.

"Hey! I thought I was gonna be late. Mr Farr made us all stay behind in art because he couldn't find the lid off one of the glue sticks," he says, rolling his eyes without much force before he straightens up a little, green eyes scanning over Niall's face before he frowns. "What's up? Did something happen?" He asks.

Niall shakes his head quickly. "No," he strains, then swallows and repeats himself in a less forced tone. "No, nothing happened. I'm okay."

He isn't really sure what he is, but he knows he isn't okay. His heart is thudding in his chest and he feels high strung, irritable almost, like one small thing might set him off — he's just so angry and he can't explain exactly why...

It's just that, if Zayn and Louis can love him then why can't his own mother? Why did she even have a child in the first place if she was going to sit back and watch him be abused by her husband? He never asked to be born, but it seems as if she's always despised him for his existence, treated him like a burden, blamed him for every punch that Paul ever threw at him. He never asked for any of it, so why did she act as if he did?

And now, why is she hiding? She ran away from him like a coward, and he — he hates her for it.

He blinks and Harry is still staring at him with pursed lips, concern clear in his gaze.

"Are you sure? Are you worrying about your Mum again, or —"

"No, Haz. I don't — I don't even care," he huffs, and Harry opens his mouth to say something else when a shout comes from behind them; almost every head in the hallway turning around to seek out the source of the sound.

"Boys! That's enough!" The teacher yells, voice deep and booming, temporarily silencing every student within the corridor.

Niall peers around some of the taller kids in front to watch where the teacher stops, standing between two boys in one of the older years. He frowns when he sees that one of them is Liam, cheeks flushed and brows drawn into a tight frown, fists clenched at his side. The other guy is bigger built, expression close to livid, jaw tight and one fist held up as if to throw a punch. The blonde girl, Lizzie he recalls, is standing slightly behind Liam, one hand on his arm.