Chapter Text
She broke off the kiss again, leaving a trail of spit hanging between their mouths.
Her mouth always seemed to remain slightly open, even when she didn’t mean to. Louis had found that attractive when he first noticed, but he would’ve liked it better if she’d just kiss him instead of trying to strike up a conversation every time he was about to slide his hands under her skirt.
“Did I tell you I was at last week’s game?” She asked for the third time. “Let me just say that you are the best player out there, even better than Harry—”
Louis kissed her hard, interrupting her again because there was nothing he wanted less than to talk about Harry in a moment like that.
He didn’t know the girl’s name, but he knew her friends called her Baby. He’d seen her a couple of times at soccer practice, sitting at the bleachers next to the other girls from her class. Even Zayn had mentioned her a couple of times. He had been dating an older girl for a few months before she graduated last semester and moved to another state. Ever since then, Zayn had been going through a weird kind of withdrawal that made him drool over any girl that came remotely close to him.
And according to him, after the maths teacher, Baby was the hottest girl around.
“You should fuck her,” he advised Louis one day after soccer practice, when Baby had kissed them both on the cheek goodbye. “I’m a faithful man, but you must fuck her. For both of us.”
Louis figured it was true; she was beautiful. So when she came over to talk to him the day after the first game of the season— which they won 4-2 against the neighboring school—Louis gladly agreed to spend the afternoon with his tongue down her throat.
He liked making out as much as any other eighteen-year-old boy, but he had never understood why everyone seemed so obsessed with sex. Sex was all right. He liked it as long as he didn’t have to deal with all the other stuff: the dates, the gifts, the relationships. He didn’t have time for any of that, being captain of the soccer team and a high school senior. Louis just wanted someone to have a good time with and take the edge off.
It meant nothing. It never did.
. . .
After saying goodbye to Baby, Louis went to the court to wait for practice to start. There was still half an hour to go, but most of his teammates were already there.
Zayn was sitting in the stands next to Nate, the vice-captain, concentrated in writing something in his notebook.
“Did you guys missed me?” Louis asked as he walked over to them and sat down next to Nate’s backpack.
“The only thing I miss is when you didn’t have Baby all to yourself,” Nate replied, looking at Louis with a cheeky grin as he poked his head over Zayn’s shoulder.
“Who says I was with her?”
“Samuel says he saw you two kissing. Again.”
Zayn laughed and looked up from his notebook over to where a group of girls were sitting on the other side of the bleachers, and then at Louis. Louis followed his gaze only to find Baby already looking at him.
“Fine. I was with her,” he admitted.
Nate almost jumped out of his seat, startling Zayn.
“Aha! I knew it, man!” He exclaimed but lowered his voice when he realized he had caught the attention of everyone around the court. “Is it official then?”
“I’m not dating her.” Louis clarified for the thousandth time.
“That’s not fair. Only you can afford to mess around with a girl like that and not make her your girlfriend,” he complained. “Aren’t you afraid someone else might come along and take her from you?”
Zayn nodded in agreement. “I’d do it, but I’m—”
“Faithful,” said Louis, earning a dirty look from Zayn.
“Shit, I would do it too! But she won’t even look my way!” Said Nate. “She dated Davis last year— Ethan fucking Davis. I mean, how much more tragic can that get? Seriously, I cannot be any worse than him.”
“Well, we are not together. You can propose to her right now for all that I care,” Louis said before starting to walk towards the soccer field to warm-up before coach McGregor got there.
“Was David a serial killer or something?” He heard Zayn asking form afar.
A couple of his teammates greeted him on his way to the field. Louis tried not to focus on the fact that the first thing he noticed was Harry’s absence.
The sun was high up in the sky. It was warm enough for him to train in just a T-shirt, but not so hot that it was sweltering to be outdoors. It was a perfect day.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry coming onto the court.
It made no sense for him to still be obsessed with Harry. They didn’t even talk outside of soccer practice unless it was strictly necessary for the team. Harry no longer followed him around as he once had; he hadn’t done so since that day outside the principal’s office, while they waited for their parents to come to the school and pick them up.
Louis had been relieved about that. When he returned to school after being suspended for two days, he’d been happy not to interact with Harry at all.
Louis thought that would be the end of it.
He soon realized that he was still strangely attuned to everything Harry did. He thought about him constantly, obsessively. It was as if he was constantly scanning every room he walked in searching for Harry, and when he found him, he just couldn’t take his eyes off him.
He couldn’t get rid of Harry, and he couldn’t help but hate Harry even more for it.
But most of all, he hated himself.
At first, he thought it was just a side effect of spending way too many years in Harry’s presence. Too many years attached to his hip. Maybe it was normal that he couldn’t just erase Harry’s existence as quickly as he would've liked, specially because he was a crucial part of Anne’s life. But as weeks turned into months and then years, Louis had to accept that it was just how his mind worked. There was something wrong with him; something that just wouldn’t let him have peace. Maybe he was doomed to live with Harry like a weight on the back of his mind.
It was just another one of the many contradictions that coexisted in his head; like missing his mother even though he hadn't really met her; or loving his father even though his father seemed to hate him; or hating Harry even though he loved Anne; and like thinking about Harry even though all he ever thought about was that he needed to stop.
It was fine. As long as Harry didn’t come back into his life, Louis could cope with whatever that was.
He sometimes wondered if Harry could feel it too—if his eyes also seemed to get caught in Louis’ shadow whenever they were in the same room. He wondered if they were both cursed: him with guilt, and Harry with resentment.
The thing with feeling guilty was that it never stopped Louis from making the same mistake twice. Guilt just ran under his skin and, when it came to the surface, it always turned into anger.
The problem with Louis was that all his emotions translated to anger.
“Everyone, come here!” Shouted Coach. Louis hadn’t even noticed his presence there.
Snapping out of his daze, he headed towards the others. In the distance, he saw Zayn waving goodbye and disappearing into the school’s building.
“Last week, we won the first game of the season—”
All the boys broke into celebratory shouts, not even letting Coach finish the sentence as the excitement of the game took over once again.
“But that can’t make us complacent,” McGregor continued, raising his voice so that everyone would listen to him. “We have the whole season ahead of us, and the stronger the competition gets, the more we’ll have to work to keep up. Last year, we lost to the Winthrop team in a game that decided the championship. It can’t happen again,” he said. Louis felt his eyes fixed on him as he spoke. Louis nodded. He wanted Coach to know that this was the year he was going to end the school’s losing streak. Louis would lead them to victory before graduating. “Did I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Coach!” They all replied, the excitement still vibrating in the air.
It had been twenty years since their school last won the national inter-school championship. Louis was finally captain, and he was determined not to let his team lose again. The previous year, they had come incredibly close to victory but lost in the most frustrating way. Louis still refused to admit that he bore a large part of the responsibility for that. As usual, he preferred to blame it completely on Harry, and his sidekick, Liam.
As if summoned by thought alone, Liam appeared on the court out of uniform and looking agitated, as if he’d run a marathon to get there. He was fuming as he headed straight for Louis.
Louis hadn’t even noticed his absence until that moment.
He had only a few seconds to react before Liam tried to punch him in the face. He managed to dodge the punch by a few millimeters.
“You son of a bitch!” Liam spat on his face and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
Annoyed and also very confused, Louis glanced over at his teammates to see if any of them knew what was going on, but they all looked just as shocked as he was, watching them with wide eyes. Even Harry was frozen in place.
“Are you okay, Payne?” Louis asked. “Have you finished loosening the last functional screw in your head?” He managed to break free from Liam’s grip, only to be thrown to the ground.
“All right, that’s enough, Liam. Let go,” said Coach from afar.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know, you bastard!” Liam shouted again, ignoring coach McGregor.
In all the time Louis had known him, he had never seen Liam so upset. They’d never confronted each other directly, and Louis couldn’t think of a single reason why they needed to do it now; in front of everyone; in the middle of the soccer field; in the middle of practice; with Coach watching them. It was the last thing Louis needed.
“First you slept with my girlfriend, and now you’re kissing her in front of the whole school! You thought I wouldn’t find out?” Liam’s face was red with anger. Louis could hear the gasps of his teammates. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t mess up your face right now,” demanded Liam.
“No one is going to mess anyone up!” Coach insisted, but he was struggling to reach them through the crowd that had gathered to watch the fight.
Baby was nowhere to be seen.
Louis decided he’d had enough. He really didn’t have time for this. He had been fighting with Harry ever since he joined the team, which lead Louis to losing the captain position every time, year after year. But he’d finally managed to convince Coach that he could stay out of trouble. Louis would not mess it up, specially since the next game of the season was in less than a month and he needed to keep Liam’s fists away from his eyes. Besides, he couldn’t afford to be suspended, even for a day, because that would mean missing soccer practice and classes. The only thing keeping him afloat at school were the credits he was getting for his extracurricular activities.
He really wanted to shut Payne’s big mouth for once and for all, but he’d have to wait at least until Christmas break—if he was lucky enough to meet him on the street.
Louis grabbed Liam’s arm, trying to break free from the grip around his neck.
“Payne, listen. I have no idea who your girlfriend is... if you even have a girlfriend. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to let me up.”
Louis couldn’t hear him clearly, but Coach must’ve said something else, because Liam looked from Louis to him, still breathing heavily and clenching his fists, still with no intention of letting go of Louis without a fight.
“You’re telling me I didn’t see you just half and hour ago leaving the chemistry classroom with Veronica?”
“I don’t even know anyone named Veronica!” Louis insisted, beginning to think that maybe Liam really had lost his mind.
“Baby, you fucking jerk!” Shouted Liam, somehow looking even more furious than before.
Louis opened and closed his mouth, at a lost for words.
“What’s going on?” Harry’s voice rang out above everyone else’s as he made his way to Liam’s side.
Fucking perfect.
“I’m just trying to get back to training,” said Louis, at the same time as Liam yelled: “Tomlinson has been sleeping with Veronica!”
The pressure of Liam’s hand in the back of his neck was starting to hurt, so Louis pushed him back with all his strength, causing Liam to wobble but ultimately not fall.
Louis got off the ground, but didn’t attack Liam— he had no intention of starting a fight with either of them. It wasn’t worth all the trouble. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him. Louis tried to avoid his gaze, fanning the crowd to find Coach, but he couldn’t see him due to the number of people surrounding them. And then it become impossible not to return Harry’s gaze.
Before he became team captain, Louis had found it easy to ignore Harry. He followed any team orders involving him and exchanged just enough words to avoid hindering the team’s progress. When he became captain, he made a point of giving general instructions and assisting anyone who needed help individually after the day’s training. But Harry never seemed to need Louis’ help, and Louis never offered it.
After the infamous bathroom altercation all those years ago, their fights had never been about anything personal again. Their disagreements usually began and ended on the court and they never lasted more than a few days. Usually, they ended with them deciding that fighting the other wasn’t worth getting suspended or jeopardizing the team’s chances of a championship. Whatever got them out of each other’s presence as quickly as possible was usually their way to go.
But at that moment, Harry was looking at him again. Not like he thought Louis was a bad captain or a bad person; but he was looking at him the way he used to many years ago. Bright green eyes. Too damn expressive. Too damn confused.
“Is that true?” Harry asked.
Feeling suddenly inadequate, Louis stood up straight.
“What if it’s true?” He answered.
Once again, whispers filled the court. Some of his teammates were smiling and having a good time, while other looked a bit shocked. Louis could hear coach McGregor yelling to passing students to go back to their classes.
“It’s true!” Liam insisted, heated. “I’m not the only one who saw them. Samuel saw them too. Several times!”
Louis decided he would never trust Samuel with any kind of information.
Harry looked annoyed as he watched him, and Louis finally remembered why he used to hate it when Harry would look at him like that. Or just look at him at all.
And, honestly, fuck Harry for looking so angry. He really had no right to. Fuck Harry for always defending his friends like his life depended on it. And fuck him for still expecting Louis to be someone he never was.
The voice in his head, the one who always urged him to either disappear or make Harry disappear, grew louder. The idea of getting out of that situation without a fight lost all its appeal.
“What are you going to do about it?” He said, moving closer to Harry but speaking loudly enough for Liam to hear. “Because if you’re trying to stop me from fucking her, let me tell you it’s already too—”
Before Liam could try to punch him again, Harry stepped between them and lunged himself towards Louis. His fist landed on Louis’ lower lip. Louis was only too happy to strike back.
It was the Bee fight all over again. But this time, every time Louis punched Harry, he punched him back. This time, Harry hated him too.
As Harry hit back, attacking any part of Louis’ body he could reach, Louis felt a strange sense of relief. At last, Harry was acting like someone other than the perfect son, the coach’s favorite player, the school’s top student and everyone’s best friend. Finally, Harry didn’t seem to have everything under control, even if that meant Louis would go home covered in bruises.
He didn’t even noticed when they ended up on the ground, rolling around the court, fighting for control.
At first, Liam seemed to enjoy watching Louis get beaten up. But when he realized that Harry was getting beaten up as well, and that neither of them had any intention of stopping, he finally reached over to pull them apart. A few of his other teammates also jumped in to try to stop them. Louis could feel hands pulling him away from Harry, but they were stuck together, their legs intertwined on the floor. Harry was using one arm to grip Louis’ neck and the other to hit his ribs. Louis freed himself and went for Harry’s neck, choking him.
“Son of a bitch.” Harry managed to say, fighting with both hands to free himself from Louis’ grip.
The loud sound of a whistle cut through the air and made them stop in their tracks.
Still tangled up on the floor, they looked up to see coach McGregor and Principal Grace standing in front of them.
“To my office. Now!”
. . .
Two days’ suspension. Two weeks of detention. A pairs’ essay that he had to write with Harry. A meeting with the school’s therapist. A note he had to bring back signed by his father.
That’s what his fight with Harry resulted in.
Coach McGregor didn’t even talk to them. He didn’t look at Louis, didn’t say how disappointed he was. But he also didn’t tell him that it was the end of his position as team captain. Louis decided to focused on that detail, and not on the fact that he had just done the one thing he’d promised himself not to do that year.
He knew Harry had received the same punishment as him, because Principal Grace told him so. In two days, they’d both be back at school, where they’d have to spend their afternoons in detention, working on an essay about each other’s importance to the team and their good qualities.
Louis already knew he hated every single one of Harry’s so-called qualities. He also knew that it was improbable that Harry could think of any quality of his to begin with.
Their after-school training always took place at the same time as detention, so they wouldn’t be able to train with the rest of the team until they’d handed in the essay.
As for Liam, Louis knew that he had also been suspended for starting the fight. However, as this was the first time he’d been involved in a situation like that, unlike Harry and Louis, he was only forbidden from attending practice that week.
When Louis arrived home to find it empty, he realized that maybe he should’ve be more concerned about how he was going to get his father to sign the note the principal had given him. But after the way his dad had reacted years ago when he picked Louis up from school, Louis knew there was no way he was going to confess that he had gotten intro trouble again.
After cleaning the cut on his lip as well as he could and making sure the bruises Harry had left on his body weren’t too bad, Louis went to his room and pretended to sleep until he finally drifted off.
. . .
After learning that Harry had signed up for the school’s photography workshop and would be coming home late, Louis started going to see Anne every Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesdays quickly became his favorite day of the week. He could arrive at the Styles’ house and pretend it was his home. He could convince himself that he would never have to go back to his real life. But if he didn’t leave, Harry would show up eventually, and then Anne would remember that he wasn’t her real son. That he would never be Harry.
But while he was there, life was good. Anne would ask him about his day at school; how soccer practice was going; how his classes and his father were doing. Sometimes they would sit and talk until late. Other times, they would watch a movie while drinking the hot chocolate she had made.
The second day of his suspension fell on a Tuesday. Louis walked down the driveway until he reached the door of the Styles’ house. Like always, he found the door unlocked and entered without knocking. Everything was quieter than usual. Mr. Styles worked late, so he was never around when Louis came, but Anne was always waiting for him on the living room.
That afternoon, however, the house was unexpectedly dark. Louis could hear only the faint sound of a horror movie playing on the television and all the lights were off. Although it was winter, sunlight still illuminated the streets, yet all the curtains in the house were closed.
Confused, Louis walked blindly, following the dim light from the television, hoping to find Anne, who might’ve fallen asleep while watching a movie. It didn’t occur to him that it could be Harry until he heard a girl’s high-pitched scream when she saw him. She was curled up on the coach next to Harry, who turned his face toward Louis.
It was only standing there in the middle of the darkness, seeing the girl’s horrified face and Harry’s unreadable expression, that Louis remembered that Harry had also been suspended from school for the same amount of days as him, which meant he should’ve known he would find him at home. But in all the years ever since their fight, he had only run into Harry a couple of times when going to see Anne.
At first, Harry had protested like no tomorrow, but the argument ended when Anne said Louis was her guest.
“If you don’t want to make up, that’s fine,” she said, looking at the both of them. “But Louis has always been welcome in this house, even before you were born, Harry. He’ll always be welcome, no matter what you two are fighting about.”
Harry looked at his mother like she had betrayed him, but from that moment he took it upon himself to stay out of the house every Tuesday, and stopped demanding that his parents throw Louis out whenever he came to visit.
Maybe Harry’s anger shouldn’t have made Louis feel so good, but he couldn’t help it. At the same time, he suspected that Harry didn’t quit the soccer team for the same reason: to piss him off, so he thought they were even.
However, seeing Harry’s stupid face, even if he was angry, was the last thing he wanted to do at that moment.
Without saying a word, Louis turned around and retraced the blind path that had led him there. He could hear footsteps behind him and braced himself for a hit from Harry that never came. Instead, the girl passed him swiftly and headed towards the door in record time, as if she were too embarrassed to even face him.
Louis had started to follow her steps when Harry got up from the couch. “Louis? Wait,” he said. His voice sounded too loud in the midst of the awkward silence.
Louis kept walking, trying to ignore him. But before he could reach the door, Harry grabbed his arm and forced Louis to turn toward him. Louis’ body was still sore from the earlier fight, so he couldn’t help but groan as he folded in on himself.
Harry lightened the force of his grip but didn’t let go completely.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, sounding genuinely confused. “Have you decided to ruin my life for good now?”
“Ruin your life?” Louis scoffed, still trying to recover from the sharp pain that had just rocked his entire body. “It’s not the end of the world. You can go back to trying to fuck her now.”
“We were not about to fuck,” Harry said, sounding both annoyed and embarrassed.
“I wasn’t saying that as an insult, you know?” Louis stood up straight again and moved his arm to break free from Harry’s grip. Harry let him go but didn’t back down.
“What are you doing here?” He repatead. In the dark, Louis could still see his wavy hair, messy from laying down on the couch. Louis could see his slightly flushed cheeks, and the way his green eyes watched him with an intensity that never failed to make him feel sick.
“It’s Tuesday.” Louis replied, as if that explained everything. Then he tried to turn toward the door again, but Harry grabbed him by the arm and pulled hard. Louis remained in the same place to stop the twinges of pain spreading throughout his body. “And I forgot you’d be here,” he explained at last.
“Am I supposed to believe that? Where else would I be? This is my house.” Harry said.
And fuck him for that, Louis thought.
“You can believe whatever you want. I'm telling the truth. Now, if you don’t mind, I'm going back to my place.” He said, but he made no attempted to free himself from Harry’s grip, fearing the sharp pain that would follow. “It’s enough to know that I’ll have to see your stupid face in detention. Let go.”
“And whose fault is that?” Harry insisted. “You fucked Baby? Really? Liam’s been in love with her for years! Everyone knew they were about to make it official.”
Louis was pretty sure that no one but Liam knew that, but he decided against commenting on it.
“She certainly never mentioned him while she was with me.” He said instead.
“Everyone knew!” Harry repeated. “But of course you wouldn’t care. You only think about yourself.”
“All this trouble because of Baby?” Louis was starting to lose his patience. “Didn’t known you were such a prude. Weren’t you about to—”
“We were not!” Said Harry, heated. “Believe it or not, there are still people who don’t just… Ugh! Whatever. You know that’s not what this is about. You know it. This fight is between us. Don’t bring Liam or any of my friends into this.”
Louis tried to laugh at how worked up Harry was, but the sound turned out distorted. Nothing about the situation was funny. Harry was still the same, and Louis still hated him.
He hated him because it didn’t make sense. It felt like a sick joke. It felt unfair. It was unfair that Harry was great at everything Louis was good at. Harry was kind when Louis was cruel, and outgoing when Louis was painfully awkward. Harry was soft in all the edges where Louis had been stretched to the point where he nearly broke. And he was broken where Harry was as good as new. Harry was loyal to those he loved but Louis couldn’t even be loyal to himself.
Nothing had changed.
“Do you really think I’d do all of this just to upset you? You’ve always thought the world revolves around you, huh?” Louis said as calmly as he could, but he wasn’t sure he managed to keep the venom out of his voice.
Harry finally let go of Louis’ arm, as if his words had taken him by surprise.
“I don’t think that.” He said.
Louis didn’t roll his eyes, but it was a near thing.
“Yeah, you think everything revolves around you. You probably were born thinking that. And I’m sure the fuckers you call friends just go along with whatever you say.” Louis said. “But I won’t.”
“I think everything revolves around me,” Harry repeated, as if the words made no sense to him. And then he almost looked offended. “All I did was think of you. You punched me in the face… I couldn’t see anything on my left eye for two weeks because you punched me in the face. Because you couldn’t handle that someone actually considered you a friend!”
Louis felt another kind of pain run through his body; one that had nothing to do with his bruises.
“We were never friends.” He said slowly, because he was used to repeating in like a mantra in his head and to anyone who ever asked. But he still felt like screaming. He wanted to list all the reasons why he hated Harry, but even after all those years, Louis came up with nothing. “I never asked you to… to help me, or whatever it is that you were trying to do. I told you, but you just wouldn’t leave me alone. You can’t stand that someone doesn’t think you’re, like, the second coming of Christ or something. You just can’t stand that someone doesn’t like you.”
Louis didn’t want to breathe, afraid that it would come out shaky. He was looking at Harry without really looking, his eyes unfocused.
“You really don’t know anything.” Harry said after a couple of seconds, his voice low and barely holding it together. His words were laced with an emotion Louis couldn’t quite grasp, but it felt too much like longingness.
Making Harry feel bad usually made him feel better, but as they stared at each other, all he felt was emptiness.
Louis held Harry’s gaze for a moment, just to prove to himself that he could do it. Then, he turned away and walked out the door.