hello, first chapter of my new short-ish story, wooh

i am an american and the british schooling system severely confuses me, so i just used the way we do things over in america. i wish i could write it more realistically to the setting, but i just did it this way to make it easier

anyways, thank you soooo much for reading Conformity and please don't be shy with commenting, my children

enjoooyyyy~

-Julia

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I begin to feel queasy, as I always do. It isn't an abnormality for my friends to be doing this in my presence, so I try to pay it no mind like usual. But as the smoke gradually fills the space I find it arduous to simply inhale without gagging. My asthma isn't a giant fan of the white clouds above my head.

"Oi, Haz, you alright?" Liam inquires in between my coughing.

I nod. "M'fine."

"His pussy lungs can't take it." Zayn comments. He's always thought I was weak for not wanting to poison my body with a hysteria inducing plant. I roll my eyes.

"And?"

Zayn just shrugs, taking another long drag and letting out a small giggle. Liam peered at me and began speaking about a different topic to defuse the tension. "So, do you fancy that Louis Tomlinson kid or something? I saw you checking him out today,"

I bite down on my lip, not really wanting to answer the question. Which, of course gave it away. A chorus of 'ooh's come from their mouths.

Louis Tomlinson moved from Doncaster about three years ago, and each year he becomes more insanely beautiful and interesting. I think I've said a grand total of four words to him, and he's smiled at me once. But I am completely infatuated with him. I've managed to keep that information to myself until now.

"Would you have enough room to do anal in a broom closet?" Zayn wondered aloud, sending himself and Liam into another laughing fit.

I widen my eyes through the rest of their discussion of gay sex and laughter. I can't blame them entirely for the things they say, I never do. In defending them I say that the toxins they're putting into themselves are at fault.

I glance down at my watch, secretly grateful when I see that I should be heading home. I stand to my feet and give the bumbling idiots a nod.

"I've got to get home. See you boys tomorrow,"

They mutter good-bye's in return as I retreat before the drugs get into their systems and take in a deep breath when I finally exit the smoke infested room. I usually stay longer, but I'm just not in the mood. If Zayn's mum knew half of what went down in that space he would have even less of a social life.

When I reach the porch, I kick up my skateboard and carry it down to the pavement then set it down and hop on it. Since I'm penniless a skateboard that my dad bought me for my 15th birthday in an attempt to compensate for leaving my mom for some rich, Hispanic lady is my only mode of transportation.

I roll on the concrete, passing neighbors along the way that wave and send me friendly smiles. Our neighborhood is a pretty close-knit community where everyone knows everyone. Unfortunately myself, Zayn, Liam, and a few other boys like us are the only teenagers. I like to think the elderly and middle-aged women actually like me despite my affiliations with the other lads. I'm the one who helps bring in groceries, takes the rubbish to the curb, and sometimes mow lawns and shovels snow. I offer to do it for free, but I usually get a few pounds out if it. My mates tease me for this, but I don't really mind. I like to be kind. Just because I've got a 'hard life' doesn't mean I need to take it out on my body and everyone around me like they do.

When I finally reach home I take my skateboard under my arm and walk through the back gate. I toss it on the ground then unlock the door, entering my shabby abode. The door I always come in through leads straight to the kitchen, where a folding table and a couple of wooden chairs sit in the center of the room and the wooden cabinets are always in danger of becoming vacant.

I glance at the counter and notice my mother's purse. She must have forgotten it on her way to work. At least, that's what I assume prior to the petite women with a beautiful, stress-swollen face stepping into the room. She spreads her arm as a smile stretches her mouth. "Harry!"

"Mum," I say, enveloping her in a hug. "What are you doing home so early?"

"They let me have the day off. Oh, I miss you so much,"

I allow myself to grin as we withdraw from the hug. "I miss you, too."

"You must be starving. Go put in a Disney film and I'll make us some food,"

"I can do it, Mum, you go have a seat,"

She places her hand on her jutted out hip and gave me the matronly stare. "Harry Edward, I am your mother, let me make you food."

I toss my hands up in mock submission. "Alright, alright,"

We share a soft chuckle as I step into the other room and shuffle through our collections of DVD's. We have a surplus of Disney films. I was obsessed when I was younger and watching them together was an unofficial tradition. I decide on Aladdin and take the weight off my feet after putting it in. I kick my shoes off and melt into the old couch, reaching for my laptop on the coffee table.

My laptop is absolutely priceless to me; my Christmas present from Mum last year. She had spent 3 months saving up to buy it for me and I have never taken better care of anything in my life. Not even the converse Dad sent me, which were now polluted and worn down.

I log into Facebook and, with my crush on my mind, search 'Louis Tomlinson'. I grin to myself when his profile lights up the screen. Call me creepy, but I always look at his posts. He puts up amazing song lyrics, relevant quotes, and thought provoking rants and questions. His Facebook directly contradicts the facade placed upon him by society, as everyone at school sees him as the ditsy, popular class clown.

Granted, he is hilarious and does ridiculous things sometimes, but I think I'm the only one who actually listens when he says something serious. He makes great points and connections, yet everyone thinks it's just a joke. Louis goes along with it but I can tell that it makes him disconsolate that nobody takes him seriously.

I skim over his recent posts, my mouse hovering over the 'like' button but not having the guts to press down. I do the same thing with the 'send friend request', but I am way too scared of any possible thing that could go wrong as a result of this to actually do it. I'm sure he'd accept it, but what if he didn't?

"Here we are, Haz. Soupe de jour is Campbell's chicken and noddle," Mum announces with a thick, fake French accent, making he chuckle and shake my head as she hands me a steaming bowl of the soup. She sits beside and and crosses her legs, setting a pillow in her lap and using it as a table.

As I sip spoonfuls of my soup and hum along to Arabian Nights, Mum glances at my computer screen. I try to shut the laptop with my thighs whilst not spilling scorching hot broth on me, but I'm too late and she asks who Louis is.

"Uh, he's a bloke from school," I reply in an uncool manor, arousing suspicions.

"Yeah?" She cocks an eyebrow at me. "Your boyfriend?"

I shake my head violently. "No! No, he's straight, anyways..."

Mum's always been okay with my sexuality, which I am eternally grateful for. Any other homosexual, bisexual, asexual, pansexual, and any other non-heterosexual person I've talked to at school or online aren't quite as blessed as I am.

She nods, averting her eyes back to the telly. "But you wish he wasn't,"

I swallow a spoonful of soup. "Possibly,"

Mum grins, setting her bowl on the coffee table and turning towards me. "Let me see him!"

"Mother," I groan.

"Come off it! Your sister never talked about boys she fancied, and now she's off with a lad who calls himself Night Crow."

I let out a laugh at Gemma's boyfriend's nick-name, which was when Mum lunged towards my laptop. I try to protest, but she's already going through his pictures. I cover my face to hide the inevitable blushing.

"Harry," Mum sings. "He's so cute! And rich,"

"Yeah, yeah, can I have my laptop back?"

"Absolutely not. I'm cyber stalking Louis,"

Mum spends about five minutes looking through Louis' photos, mostly made up of pictures his mum tagged him in with his siblings and group selfies. When she's finally done, she hands me my laptop and a smug look.

"I approve."

I sigh deeply. "Thanks."

Walking down the corridors of the school building with my mates, Zayn and Liam, by my side was quite easy. Normally you'd have to push and shove to maneuver through the massive hoard of children moving from place to place, but many people feared my friends.

I don't say that in an attempt to sound cool and tough. I'm neither of those things, and neither are Zayn and Liam. The main reason, I believe, that our peers part like the Red Sea in order to avoid us is because no one wants to be near us. We're the lost-causes of the school; useless pieces of faded away humanity that are headed for a life of crime or hobo-ing after graduation.

The lads enjoy this reputation, and I don't really care what other people think of me, so let them see me as a washed-up druggie. I go to school to learn, not to impress people.

I get through the day alright most of the time, ignoring the constant flow of rumors about myself. The only excitement I ever have are the three advanced courses with Louis. I hate how much I fancy him, but he's the only reason I believe perfection exists.

I wave good-bye to my mates on entering my first period class, which was AP English. My heart flutters when I see Louis scribbling in a notebook on entering the room. He sits in the very front and I sit in the seat diagonally behind him.

It took me a while to be able to accept my own sexuality. I used to try and force myself to be attracted to females, but it never worked. I've even dated a few girls in the past, all ending in disaster before deciding that I liked boys and that wasn't just going to change.

I used to have a giant crush on my middle school best friend, Niall Horan, who had moved from Ireland to the little town of Holmes Chapel. I completely demolished that relationship when I kissed him. He was completely freaked out and we'd lost touch after that. He sends a grin my way whenever I see him around school but that is about it.

Now I shamelessly stare at Louis, who looks adorable in his red sweater and a grey beanie over his wispy, light brown hair. Something seems off, however. His expression is sullen and his usual contagious happy demeanor is gone. I frown at this and take my seat, the bell ringing seconds later.

"Good morning, class," Mrs. Margot calls from the front of the room. Unenthusiastic morning greetings are returned to the cute, plump woman with short brunette hair. She grins. "Glad to know you all are excited to be at school today."

I watch as she turns, writing in cursive the name 'Shakespeare'. This prompts groans to come from my class mates and Mrs. Margot shoots us a glare from over her shoulder. "Don't moan at Shakespeare,"

"We all know Louis would." A lad from the back of the room shouts, then proceeds to make an obscene sexual gesture. I furrow my eyebrows in both confusion and anger.

Louis shifts uncomfortably, letting out a huff. Mrs. Margot is about as indignant as I am. "Excuse me?"

The bloke shrugs his shoulders. "Just saying,"

Mrs. Margot rolls her eyes, returning to what she was speaking about prior to the incident. My attention switches from the teacher to the forlorn Louis. I wish I could say something that can bring his smile back.

When the end of class is indicated by the loud, irritating bell, I watch Louis jump up immediately, nearly darting out of the classroom. Not knowing what's going on is driving me crazy for once.

__

I sit at our usual table outside during lunch with Zayn and Liam. They eat their lunches and chat as I scan my eyes around, Louis still on my mind. The boys become suspicious when I haven't touched my food after a good ten minutes into the period.

"What's wrong, Haz?" Liam inquires. It gives me a certain pleasure to see Liam and Zayn completely coherent. I feel like they're actual people again.

"How do you mean?" I lift an eyebrow at him, sinking my teeth into the bread of my turkey sandwich.

Liam gives me the you know exactly what I mean look. I just shrug. "M'alright."

"Did you hear about your boy crush?" Zayn speaks up, immediately obtaining my attention.

"Hear what?"

"Oh, yeah," Liam nods. "Rumor has it he's a homo, too."

My eyes bulge out of my skull and my stomach forms an excited knot. "Are you serious?"

Zayn nods in confirmation, "Yeah, apparently he told his mate and the big-mouth told everyone. It's kind of uncool. Tomlinson's pretty mixed up about it. He was pouting in art. Usually he's bloody bonkers,"

I grimace. "Why do people care so much anyways? It's not like his sexuality is anyone else's business."

Liam cackles, "That's not the way high-school works, mate."

I let out a sigh. "He doesn't deserve to be harassed about it."

"Does anyone still bully you about being gay?" Zayn asks me.

I shake my head from side to side. "Not really. Every once in a great while I'll get the shoulder shove followed by a 'Watch where you're going, faggot'. I think people stopped caring enough about me to be rude to me personally."

Liam nods his head. "Trust me, though, you're still a whispering campaign."

"I wonder if people are gonna start shipping you and Tomlinson." Zayn jokes, prodding my side. I roll my eyes, chuckling.

"Why, 'cause we're the only two gay kids in the school?"

"Precisely. It's a match made in Heaven."

"Lourry?" Liam sounds out, Zayn laughing.

"No, Larry, you idiot,"

"What are you doing?" I ask, covering my face.

"We're shipping, shut it,"

I try and finish my food as they continue to discuss the so called Larry Stylinson. I wish I could stop myself from blushing.