Patterns of Blues

Chapter 5

Niall stepped into his classroom and was nearly knocked over by the surprising force of his skinny best friend, stumbling backward as he tried to retain what jumbled words were being spewed into his shoulder. Something about mashed potatoes? No, definitely not, but he didn't care enough to ask him to repeat it,

"Hey, Shawn." The brunette boy took a step back and smiled broadly,

"How was your weekend?"

Terrible. But he didn't say that, and instead, tried to return the grin,

"Alright. Harry and I spent a lot of time together." Shawn made a face and tussled his curly hair behind his ears,

"Are brothers really that great? Aaliyah is a total pain in the keister, like, ninety percent of the time." Niall dropped his smile somewhere and so he frowned a bit instead,

"Brothers are the best thing anyone can have."

"If you say so. I'd take being an only child any day." He proceeded to talk about his weekend, which included a trip to the zoo, dinner at his grandparents' house, ice cream after church, and a bunch of other things that Niall chose to tune out.

"How about you boys take a seat?" Ms. Stone suggested, gesturing to the rainbow rug which was littered with their classmates. Shawn rolled his eyes but nodded, grabbing Niall by the hand and dragging him to their usual spot on the carpet. Niall tried to focus on the conversations being held, but his headache returned and now he had a crampy stomach to go with it, which led to everything going fuzzy in his ears.

"Ni?"

"Hey, Earth to stupid. Helloooo?"

"Are you okay?"

Niall snapped back to reality when someone started shaking him, and by instinct, he screamed and tried to push his assailant off, which earned a scream in response, and then all eyes were focused on one frazzled Niall and one utterly terrified-looking Shawn.

"One of you care to explain what that was about?" Ms. Stone asked rather coldly, eyes dark with concern at the interruption. Shawn scooted further away from him and eyed him hesitantly,

"Ni zoned out, and I shook him to see if he was alright, then he totally flipped out on me." His tone was more hurt than upset, and Niall would have felt bad if his mind weren't spinning rapidly, his gut churning at ten times the speed it had been earlier.

"Is that what happened?" Ms. Stone asked for Niall's confirmation. Dark splotches patched his vision and as he opened his mouth to reply, no words came out, only-oops.

Projectile vomit. All over the rug. Ms. Stone shouted an adult word and one half of the class screamed in disgust while the other laughed as though it was the most exciting thing to ever have happened. Niall stared at the mess with wide eyes before pressing his forehead to his knees, scrunching them shut again. Ms. Stone yelled for everyone to remain seated while a trashcan arrived next to him, and he felt a second wave coming so he quickly bent over it and emptied what was left in his stomach into the bin. A hand rubbed small circles on his back and with watery eyes he looked over with the expectation of Harry next to him and was surprised to see Shawn with a guilty expression plastered to his face. Someone shooed Shawn away and the teacher's assistant, Ms. Coltrane helped Niall to his feet while Ms. Stone took the rest of the class to an empty classroom across the hall so a custodian could clean up his mess.

He whimpered a little when she placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him down to the nurse's office. The nurse, Judy, quickly ordered him to sit on the hard-cushioned bed that was in the corner of the room while Ms. Coltrane quickly filled her in on what had happened. The most Niall could do was hang his head in embarrassment for letting himself throw up in the middle of class. If that had happened at home, he knew Greg would have probably lost it and done something unpredictable. Judy knelt in front of him and put a thermometer to his forehead then hummed sympathetically when it beeped back at her,

"You've got a low-grade temp, bud. I'm going to call your dad to pick you up, okay?" Niall immediately shot his head up and knew his gaze must have been frantic,

"No, you can't!" She smiled empathetically,

"I'm sorry, but you can't stay here with a fever and stomach bug."

"He's at work right now, he won't be able to pick me up." Niall tried again, biting his bottom lip nervously as he imagined what Greg would do if he had to pick him up early. Judy laughed kindly and handed him a water bottle,

"Try taking some little sips, okay?" Then in response to his statement, she added, "It won't be a problem, hun." He unscrewed the cap to the bottle and forced his hands to stop shaking while Judy and Ms. Coltrane had a monotone conversation about his dad's phone contact.

In the end, Judy had her way and Greg showed up about fifteen minutes later with a kind smile, but Niall shivered when he recognized the irritation behind his blue gaze. He placed a gentle hand on Niall's shoulder and spoke to the secretary about signing him out for the day, and it was then that Niall learned that he'd need to stay home tomorrow as well to make sure his fever was broken. He tensed upon hearing the news, and a brief but hard squeeze on the shoulder made him loosen up again, but he didn't look up at his dad even once, afraid of what face would be looking down on him.

Once he was signed out, Greg took his hand and roughly led the way out the door toward the rusty car Greg owned. He sat alone in the back while his father started the engine and occasionally looked through the rear-view mirror at him with narrow eyes. He held back a whimper and stared out the window to the middle school across the street and silently wished Harry were coming with. He's only been alone with Greg a few times, none of which were pleasant memories.

As they pulled into the driveway, Greg opened his door and yanked him out as soon as his seatbelt was unclipped. Niall wondered if that was his way of being gentle because he noticed that the grip on his arm wasn't nearly as aggressive as it normally was. He slammed the door for Niall and unlocked the house door and led him to the couch with hardly a moment to take his shoes off. Without a word, he signaled for Niall to lay down, and once he obliged, put a hand on his now-sweaty forehead and turned back for the kitchen. He told himself to stop shaking when he heard someone digging through the freezer part of their fridge. He didn't feel sick, just anxious. Anxious about what the next few hours of being home with Greg would entail. He closed his eyes to try and calm himself just as something heavy crashed onto his stomach and flinched deeper against the couch when he opened his eyes to find his father glaring down at him. He slowly glanced at what was in his lap.

An icepack.

Then he glanced back up at his dad and noticed something shifted behind his gaze, from annoyance to something Niall guessed was hatred. Like his simple existence was a curse he had to put up with. Greg didn't say a word, but Niall could think of a thousand to describe his father's expression.

"Thank you," he murmured, surprising himself when he did so without stuttering. He might have been scared, but he knew that if he didn't use his manners Greg would likely go off on him about being an ungrateful little bitch. His words, not Niall's.

Greg slouched down so his face was inches from his, and it took most of Niall's willpower not to freak out or scurry further onto the sofa,

"Shut your stupid mouth," is all he said. Not his most vile line, but it didn't exactly make Niall feel special either. He nodded shortly several times, pressing his lips together to stop a whimper from escaping. Greg scoffed at him bitterly before stalking into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him, leaving Niall alone in the living room. Then he didn't try to hold it back any longer, a single tear slipping down his face turning into a whole sobbing session.

What did he do to deserve such a messed up life?

He missed Harry. And Liam. But somehow, he felt his heart aching for his Mama. Niall couldn't remember a lot about her, but Liam would sometimes tell stories of her. Only the good times, though. Niall might not have been smart, but he wasn't stupid either. Each time her name was mentioned, Harry and Liam would always share a look that told him there was more to Mama than a sweet lady who died too soon. But he didn't care. All Niall wanted was to be held and kissed and sung to. That's what he could remember of her, and that was what he missed.

He set the cold pack aside and wrapped his arms around himself tightly, sobs eventually draining down to whimpers when he subsided into sleep, exhausted.