Young & Beautiful

“Of course!”
“I’ll be ready in ten,” Louis sing-songs.
Because pride be damned, if these rich kids are going to throw away their money, they might as
well throw it away on him.
*
The day continues as the past two have: Louis attempts to drown out his surroundings with every
conceivable distraction available (phone, iPod, TV, sleep) but every single time he’s found a piece
of Louis Time, there’s a knock at his door, a jarring burst of laughter, an invitation to play FIFA,
or an electric guitar sizzling through the calm air.
This is just not going to work.
“Wanna smoke, mate?” Niall suddenly calls, just as Louis is debating the contrasting appeals of
gold curtains versus purple.
Louis grits his teeth.
“Must you call for me every ten minutes? You really are a child, aren’t you?”
“Is that a yes?”
Fuck it all to hell.
Exasperated, Louis considers the offer momentarily (he could use a good smoke right now) before
it suddenly dawns on him:
Term starts tomorrow.
Tomorrow!
And he hasn’t even assembled his notebooks! Not that he’s ever done that in his life.
But this is a proper school and he’s got to have his head on straight this round. He’s weighed the
pros and cons of his situation, and as much as he wants to piss his father’s money away, he has an
obligation to his sisters and his mum—especially his sisters—not to fuck it all up. And though he
may not know just what the fuck he wants to do with all of this, and though that just might terrify
him, he’s going to do this right.
He needs to prepare for school.
“Niall!” he suddenly shouts, determination flowing in his veins. He steps into their living room
with finality, and Niall looks up from the couch, mouth stuffed with crisps and a little baggy in his
lap, surrounded by laptops. “We’re going to prepare for school tomorrow. Pack your things, we’re
going to a teashop!”
*
Why the hell did Louis invite Niall?
While Louis has been organizing his folders and notebooks and checking his school e-mails
studiously, Niall has been staring at the screen of his iPhone 5, occasionally stuffing a not-funny
picture in Louis’ face that he’d found on Tumblr.