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Louis's POV
Hi, the name is Louis, pronounced loo-ee. I'm 17 and I go to Doncaster High, private not the public school. I'm not one of those stupid jocks, who go around beating people up, and I'm not one of those smart people, who get an A+ on every test. I'm just Louis.
And I -just Louis- am bisexual. I lean more towards guys but that's not important. What IS important, is that I think a rather cute guy in my class has a crush on me.
This guy is actually one of those smart people I was talking about earlier. He is basically your stereotypical 'nerd' one could say. To me though? To me, he is so much more than those glasses he always wears and his cute button nose, which is almost always buried in a book.
To be honest, I don't know much about him. He is quite quiet and he only sits with two other people. His younger brother and his brother's best friend. He and his brother are basically twins, minus the glasses, personality and stylistic choices.
Who is this boy, you may ask? Well, I'll tell you. His name is Marcel. Marcel Styles. He's in my year and is by far the smartest in our school. He's also one of the most attractive, if you ask me that is.
I should probably go to school now, I've been up and ready for at least thirty minutes already. I have to pick up my best friends, Zayn and Liam on the way there. They only live five minutes away. They're each other's neighbours, which makes it easier.
♤♡◇♧
I honk the horn and they both come running out of Zayn's' house (they have sleepovers most days, which I go to about 1/5th of). I watch them race up to my car and pull the doors open. Liam in the front, Zayn in the back.
"Mornin Zack, mornin Leeroy."
"Hmmm," Liam hums, "I thought I told you not to call us those names, Lewis."
I visibly cringe at the name and mutter a, "Yeah right," under my breath, then start the car and drive to school.
♤♡◇♧
When we pulled up outside of the school, I went to park the car in my usual spot. I stopped when I realised it was taken. I then parked next to my usual spot and all three of us boys got out of the car.
"I can't believe they took your spot." Zayn complained.
"Yeah, you ALWAYS park there," Liam said, emphasizing the always.
"Well, not today, sorry lads." They heard an Irish accent chime in. "Harry here wants to park here, so here we are parked." He adds on.
I look up, my eyes widening. There stands Marcel, shy and blushing, as usual. I barely notice his younger brother's -now identified as Harry- cheeks heat up with a rosy blush as well, when he seen me.
