Good Morals [Larry Stylinson]

Ch. Three | Liam's a Prick

[E:✔️]

Harry woke up at the loud sound of his phone going off. He jolted up and grabbed the device, answering it right away. "Harry! Where the hell are you," Zayn asked his friend rather loudly, making Harry flinch. He looked at the time. It was ten in the morning. He had missed his first two blocks. The entirety of them both. Harry gasped, "Fuck, Zayn! Why didn't call earlier, my god," the boy scrambled out of bed and set his phone down, putting Zayn on speaker phone. "My mum isn't home either," he exclaims. He ran around his room, trying to find decent-looking clothes. Since it was the middle of December, the weather was cold and nippy. Luckily Harry had a large amount of hoodies. He took out a light grey one, finding some black skinny jeans, and changing. He went to the mirror and for this, he took his time, because he liked his hair a lot. He ran his fingers through it, and sighed, walking over and grabbing his book bag and phone. He spoke up again, but the call had ended. Harry grunted, and turned the light off as he left his bedroom. He practically ran down the stairs, grabbing his keys. He checked the time for the third time this morning, and class was about to start in ten minutes. He lived about that amount of time away from school. So, with a horrible attitude, he got into his car and drove off to the high school. Whether or not he sped a bit would remain a mystery. He heard the bell ring as he made his way into the school, turning the corner and walking down the hallway to his Drama class. It was only his teacher's third day, and Brianna is sick, and Harry was late. Ahead of him he saw his friends walk into the same class he was going of course, so he quickened his pace. Then he saw his teacher's (Mr. Tomlinson, Harry reminded himself that that was what he should be referred to as) head poke out of the door, his lips turned into a frown when he saw the younger boy rush to get there. But the moment Louis stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him, crossing his arms and looking at Harry, Harry knew he was in trouble.

    His heartbeat grew faster with each step he took towards Mr. Tomlinson. His face flushed and he once again looked at the floor with his hands in his pockets. The older man cleared his throat, "Why are you late, Harry?"

     "I slept in late, sir," he mumbled. Louis hummed and nodded, "You should know that's not a proper excuse," Louis said more in an asking tone, rather than telling him. The younger boy hated his voice. Louis's voice was too harsh. It was a mix between smooth and rough, feminine and masculine. The way he spoke just set something off in the boy-nothing good. Harry coughs, "Yes sir, I know," Harry picks at his nails nervously. He didn't like being told off or called out. This hasn't happened to him before, ever. Louis sighed, "It's fine, Harry. Just make sure you get here on time next class. Don't be late," Louis told him. Harry mentally rolled his eyes and cursed the man out. Then he went into the classroom, walking over to the rest of his peers, noticing Brianna was still gone. "Is Bri still sick," he asks simply. "Yeah, anyway," Niall grinned. He discretely glanced at Mr. Tomlinson and wigged his eyebrows at his green-eyed friend, who replied with a head shake, "Niall, just stop. He's a dickhead, I came late and he chewed me out like I'm this horrible kid. It was actually very, very charming. Nice of him to do such a nice thing," he smiled sarcastically, causing his friend to roll his eyes. They all heard Mr. Tomlinson clap his hands together, and they turned around to see him standing up, walking to the center of the room. "So, today is Jordan's Birthday, is it not," he looked at the girl, who nodded. "Well then, happy birthday to you," he smiled widely, "And that's our prompt for today. A birthday party," he looks around the room, and walks towards his desk. He bent down a bit to get something, bringing up some things he considered props. A card and a gift box.

    Niall rushed over and grabbed the things, taking them to the center of the room. The kids sat in a circle, and it was a bit funny, Louis admitted. They sang happy birthday, sang some other songs Louis didn't recognize, yelled at each other (jokingly of course), and then they started. Jordan spoke up, "Thank you, everyone for coming to my birthday," she smiled. "I got you a card," Niall took the card and excitedly handed it to the girl, who took it and opened it, (There was nothing written on it) and gasped, covering her mouth, "Niall, how dare you," she scoweled. Niall's eyes widened, "Jordan, what is it? It was an innocent card," he dropped his head. Liam snatched it from Jordan, and read it, gasping as well. "Niall! Innocent? Far from it," he cleared his throat, "Dear Jordan, I'm in love with your mum, please give me her phone number. And what's this about her dad," Liam scoffed, tossing the card at Niall. Niall opened the card, frowning. He stood up, "I'll have you know, I wasn't the only one who wrote in this card," he dramatically pointed at Harry.

"Thank you for bringing that, Mr. Tomlinson," Jordan smiled at the older man, who nodded. "Yeah, of course. I'm glad you like it, happy birthday," he smiled. "Thanks," she said again. "Mariah got me a gift card to Nando's," she turned and smiled widely at her friend. Louis looked at the other kids, seeing Zayn feeling Niall and Harry a piece of cake. With their hands.
Louis grimaced, and was about to say something but decided against it.
Liam was just sitting there, clutching his stomach as he laughed.
Louis turned to the cake and took a rather large piece and shoved it into his mouth, wiping his mouth after eating it. "This cake is so good, I love it," Harry giggled. "Yeah, Harry likes the buttercream," Liam chuckled, and Louis glanced over at Harry, who was glaring daggers into his friend's eyes. Harry then opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't get anything out before Liam had taken a handful of cake and smeared it across his friend's face. Harry just sat there, breathing heavily, muttering a "fuck you, you prick" to Liam (so that only he could hear it). And then the bell rang. Harry's other friends dashed out the door waving their teacher a goodbye, the two girls soon doing the same. Louis just stood there, staring at his student whose friend just covered in cake. That wasn't okay at all, really, and it actually made the feathery-haired man angry. He set his fork down, and reached down enough to wipe enough cake out of Harry's eyes so he could see. "C'mon," Louis said, reaching out his hand.
Harry hesitated. He didn't even move his body until he finally gave in and took his teacher's hand. The simple gesture made Harry's stomach do flips, and when he was brought up, he sighed, carefully opening his eyes and seeing Mr. Tomlinson looking at him with worried eyes. He took note that he was a little taller than his teacher. Not that that meant anything, of course. Harry scoffed, reaching up his arm to wipe away the frosting. His arm was stopped before he could, however, and he yanked his arm away. "Harry, I have paper towels, don't ruin your nice hoodie," he smiled kindly. Harry bit his lip and went over to Mr. Tomlinson's desk, watching him get out some paper towels. Harry leaned over his desk while Mr. Tomlinson wiped off his face gently.
It took a few towels to get everything off, but even then there was some left. Louis ripped out a couple of towels from the roll, handing them to Harry. "I'll see you tomorrow, clean up in the bathroom, I don't want you being any more late," Louis's voice soothed Harry, making him feel warm. All he did was nod, muttering a 'thank you' and heading out the door.
The rest of Harry's day was a blur, and he hated to admit it, but he knew exactly why. This wasn't how he acted around new teachers. New teachers only took a day before Harry was comfortable, but since Mr. Tomlinson called him out, he was pissed. However when he helped Harry clean the cake off of his face when everyone else left made Harry feel the complete opposite. He didn't like it. At all.

Tomorrow would be Mr. Tomlinson's fourth day teaching and Harry was still unbelievably awkward around him. He just had to remind himself that it would go away, like all feelings eventually do. It was a phase. It was just his teacher, right?

As soon as he got home, he started working on his maths homework. He needed to distract himself, and it sort-of worked, but sort-of was better than not at all. After a couple of hours of other extra credit things, Harry got something to eat and watched telly. Then took a long shower as usual and laid in bed, scrolling through his phone until he fell asleep.

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