screaming color // n.h. au

part 2

niall horan is the bane of cole's existence.

it starts on a wednesday morning a few weeks into cole's sophomore year, at 10 am in the intro poetry class that she's taking because she thinks maybe it'll make her into the kind of person who can sit alone in coffee shops without feeling desperately uncomfortable.

they're talking about some auden poem, which cole hates despite how much she wants to like it, and niall's sitting beside her, tapping the pen that he borrowed from her against the edge of her chair. he'd walked into class–very nearly late, by the way–and plopped down next to her, grinning at her like they're old friends. cole had stared at him for a minute, confused. was he really smiling at her?

he was though, she'd known for sure when he'd scooted his chair just a bit closer to her and asked to borrow a pen. cole had hesitated for a second but quickly given in, shoving a spare pen at him without really looking his way.

this cole hates about herself just a bit: she's a pushover. absolutely terrible at saying no. this has worked against her many times before. just last week, she accompanied april to a concert on a school night. it turned out to be a screamo band, and cole'd had to drag a headache around with her for the 24 hours following.

sitting in her least favorite class on a morning which she'd much rather be spending in bed, cole realizes that things with niall horan will be no different. he's tapping his (her) pen against her chair and she can smell his cologne, and she knows that he's going to be a tough one to shake.

after class he follows after her like a lost puppy, follows her all the way to the dining hall where she's meeting april and then sits down right across from her.

"i'm meeting a friend," cole clarifies. she's got a sandwich in front of her, complete with saggy-looking lettuce, and it's not at all appetizing, but she pulls it toward her anyway just for something to do with her hands.

niall grins. "a friend of yours is a friend of mine."

"we're not friends," she says flatly. niall horan seems like the kind of boy who gets ideas, and she doesn't want him to get any.

"not yet," he says. same sly grin, like he knows something that cole doesn't know.

just then april arrives in a whirl of red hair and skinny limbs and towering height. she throws her backpack down onto the table and slumps into the chair next to cole, heaving a dramatic sigh.

"you would not believe the morning i've had," she says. "will you loan me a twenty? i need, like, a dozen cups of coffee right now."

cole glances at niall, who is staring at april with a look of amusement on his face. this is what april does to people. she sweeps into lives and disrupts moments and and crushes the hearts of silly boys under the toes of her bright pink docs.

april continues to speak as if she hasn't noticed niall, which cole knows is, of course, all an act. april notices everything. probably can tell how uncomfortable cole is with this whole situation just from one glance at her.

"i was late to my calc class this morning, and i had to sit next to that dude with the white guy dreads, you know the dude?" april pauses momentarily, but it's not enough time for cole to answer. "he smells like moldy cheese and he always takes off his sandals during class and rubs his feet on the chair legs. ugh, gross!"

niall laughs now, full-out belly laughs, and april pauses in her story and turns to stare at him.

"and who are you?" she demands, as she demands most things.

"i'm niall. cole's friend."

"we're not friends," cole says, just so she can say that she did later.

which she will. loudly and often.

(and, on one occasion, many many months later, she will whisper the words into the skin of his collarbone as she turns into a person made solely of gooseflesh and a beating heart and laments, just for the briefest of seconds, that there was once a time where niall horan wasn't the most important thing in her world.)