Status: active.
Ruled by Fate
two
After that conversation came many. They were short, with useless information and pointless topics. And Harry felt like Cady from Mean Girls when she was doing anything to talk to Aaron Samuels. But Harry didn't care. He loved talking with Nahla, even if it was only for a minute or two at a time.
So Harry literally did and said anything to talk to this girl. He purposely dropped his pen next to her (yes, okay, he did that; he wasn't ashamed the least bit), and asked what was for homework when he knew what it was. He even did the 'Wow, do you get this at all?' even though he was a near genius when it came to English. But Nahla would respond, each time with annoyance laced in her American accent. Harry didn't mind about that, though. He liked hearing her talk, annoyance or not.
It was four weeks and many small, pointless conversations after she moved to Cheshire later that Harry finally mustered up enough courage to ask her something a bit more personal than 'God, do understand this?' He was going to ask to sit with her at lunch.
And yeah, that seemed lame and not really personal at all, but it was a big step for Harry. He always saw her eating by herself during lunch hour, always just nibbling at a sandwich and sipping at a flavored water under the shade of a tree. He wondered why she hadn't taken the time to make at least one acquaintance to sit with during lunch. So Harry decided he'd be that one acquaintance, and then he'd make a move to be a friend later on.
He didn't tell his friends what he was doing; didn't want them to laugh at him if she rejected him. He decided to ask her after English. It was early enough in the morning that she would have time to think about it if she wanted. Harry really, really hoped she'd say yes.
-----
"No."
Harry stared at her, eyebrows furrowing. God, he never felt so rejected in his life by just one word. One fucking, two-lettered word. "Why not?"
"Because I don't. Do I have to give a reason?" she asked, a bit affronted as to why he was questioning her. But Harry wanted to know. Here he was, having gained the courage to finally ask her, and she flat out rejected him with a reason of 'I don't want to.'
"Yeah, actually, you do. Why don't you want to sit with me?" he asked, and he cursed himself for sounding like he was pleading. God, he just wanted to sit with her, that was all. "And don't give me that 'I don't want to' bullshit either," he said quickly when she opened her mouth.
Nahla sighed sharply, and Harry knew she was pissed at him. But, again, he didn't care. "I don't want to sit with your friends, alright?" With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.
And that was why Harry didn't tell his friends of what he had planned to do.
-----
By the time lunch came around, Harry was right angry. He couldn't believe Nahla had flat out rejected his offer because of his friends. Who did stuff like that? And more importantly why? His friends were great. Yeah, their humor could probably stand a decent cleaning, but that's why Harry liked them; they were funny, and they seemed to like him, too.
When Harry walked outside to meet his friends for lunch that same day, there was Nahla in her usual spot, with her usual expressionless face, and usual sandwich and water. He saw his friends a few yards away at the fountain. Terry was laughing at Patrick, who was splashing water on Derek, who Harry knew was cussing profoundly. Normally, Harry sat between Patrick and Derek.
Harry started walking, not feeling like he was up for a good laugh today, but more of just a silent sit in.
To say Nahla was surprised would be a large understatement, though she hardly showed it. Her hazel eyes had widened a bit when she looked up from her lap, her jaw going slack a little. But as quickly as it appeared, it had disappeared, and Harry was looking at the same neutral face he often looked at from a distance.
"I thought I told you I didn't want to sit with you," she said, not a hint of amusement in her voice at all. But there wasn't annoyance, Harry could tell. And that, at least, was a step up.
Harry glanced at his friends, who were now trying to shove a struggling Patrick into the fountain, and then back at her. He wondered if his friends had noticed he was gone. "No, you said you didn't want to sit with my friends. So I came to sit with you." She had never said she didn't him to come to her; she just didn't want to go to him. So Harry had thought up his brilliant plan of going to her. He had thought about it all morning, and loved that he had found a loophole in what she had said.
Nahla stared at him for a few minutes, and Harry felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze, so he took out his sandwich and took a large bite. Nahla finally sighed and shrugged, taking a bite of her own sandwich. Harry could see the annoyance written on her face, but he could hardly fight the smile that was forcing its way on his lips. He was sitting with Nahla Sparrow at lunch. Fuck.
So Harry literally did and said anything to talk to this girl. He purposely dropped his pen next to her (yes, okay, he did that; he wasn't ashamed the least bit), and asked what was for homework when he knew what it was. He even did the 'Wow, do you get this at all?' even though he was a near genius when it came to English. But Nahla would respond, each time with annoyance laced in her American accent. Harry didn't mind about that, though. He liked hearing her talk, annoyance or not.
It was four weeks and many small, pointless conversations after she moved to Cheshire later that Harry finally mustered up enough courage to ask her something a bit more personal than 'God, do understand this?' He was going to ask to sit with her at lunch.
And yeah, that seemed lame and not really personal at all, but it was a big step for Harry. He always saw her eating by herself during lunch hour, always just nibbling at a sandwich and sipping at a flavored water under the shade of a tree. He wondered why she hadn't taken the time to make at least one acquaintance to sit with during lunch. So Harry decided he'd be that one acquaintance, and then he'd make a move to be a friend later on.
He didn't tell his friends what he was doing; didn't want them to laugh at him if she rejected him. He decided to ask her after English. It was early enough in the morning that she would have time to think about it if she wanted. Harry really, really hoped she'd say yes.
-----
"No."
Harry stared at her, eyebrows furrowing. God, he never felt so rejected in his life by just one word. One fucking, two-lettered word. "Why not?"
"Because I don't. Do I have to give a reason?" she asked, a bit affronted as to why he was questioning her. But Harry wanted to know. Here he was, having gained the courage to finally ask her, and she flat out rejected him with a reason of 'I don't want to.'
"Yeah, actually, you do. Why don't you want to sit with me?" he asked, and he cursed himself for sounding like he was pleading. God, he just wanted to sit with her, that was all. "And don't give me that 'I don't want to' bullshit either," he said quickly when she opened her mouth.
Nahla sighed sharply, and Harry knew she was pissed at him. But, again, he didn't care. "I don't want to sit with your friends, alright?" With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.
And that was why Harry didn't tell his friends of what he had planned to do.
-----
By the time lunch came around, Harry was right angry. He couldn't believe Nahla had flat out rejected his offer because of his friends. Who did stuff like that? And more importantly why? His friends were great. Yeah, their humor could probably stand a decent cleaning, but that's why Harry liked them; they were funny, and they seemed to like him, too.
When Harry walked outside to meet his friends for lunch that same day, there was Nahla in her usual spot, with her usual expressionless face, and usual sandwich and water. He saw his friends a few yards away at the fountain. Terry was laughing at Patrick, who was splashing water on Derek, who Harry knew was cussing profoundly. Normally, Harry sat between Patrick and Derek.
Harry started walking, not feeling like he was up for a good laugh today, but more of just a silent sit in.
To say Nahla was surprised would be a large understatement, though she hardly showed it. Her hazel eyes had widened a bit when she looked up from her lap, her jaw going slack a little. But as quickly as it appeared, it had disappeared, and Harry was looking at the same neutral face he often looked at from a distance.
"I thought I told you I didn't want to sit with you," she said, not a hint of amusement in her voice at all. But there wasn't annoyance, Harry could tell. And that, at least, was a step up.
Harry glanced at his friends, who were now trying to shove a struggling Patrick into the fountain, and then back at her. He wondered if his friends had noticed he was gone. "No, you said you didn't want to sit with my friends. So I came to sit with you." She had never said she didn't him to come to her; she just didn't want to go to him. So Harry had thought up his brilliant plan of going to her. He had thought about it all morning, and loved that he had found a loophole in what she had said.
Nahla stared at him for a few minutes, and Harry felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze, so he took out his sandwich and took a large bite. Nahla finally sighed and shrugged, taking a bite of her own sandwich. Harry could see the annoyance written on her face, but he could hardly fight the smile that was forcing its way on his lips. He was sitting with Nahla Sparrow at lunch. Fuck.
♠ ♠ ♠
kinda short, sorry, but it's important, i promise.Anyways, yeah, I thought I'd wait until the second (or third, if you count the prologue) chapter to shamelessly promote myself. Uh, yeah, Laundry Day is a Niall one-shot that has gotten a lot of feedback for some reason. Also, I was thinking of starting a Skins AU that I'm kind of excited about. It's called Under the Skin. It's a bit darker than normal stories, so a little warning there, but yeah. What do you think? Yes or no?
Anyways, enough of that. Here's some gorgeous Zayn, c:
