Smile For Him
Chapter Seven
“Styles! You’re meant to run after the ball, not away from it!” his P.E teacher screamed at the top of his lungs, still wearing the same shorts and polo shirt as yesterday despite the fact it was hammering it down with rain. Harry pushed his wet curls out of his hair again, trying to make sense of the game as raindrops landed in his eyes. “Kick it, Styles!” his teacher cried again, as the ball was sent hurtling towards him. His green eyes winded as he watched the black and white ball fly towards his face. Any other boy would have given the ball a good header, but Harry ducked, putting his arms over his head in defence and let out a rather feminine yelp which he prayed no one else heard. “Pick up the ball,” he was instructed. Harry ran off of the pitch and grabbed the muddy ball, placing it on the white line. He breathed heavily, his mouth tasting metallic from all of the running he had done. Not towards the ball of course, but rather in the opposite direction. He shut his eyes for a second and hoped that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. He took a couple of steps back, took another breath, and then ran to the ball and kicked. His right foot scuffed against the top of the ball, making it roll slowly forward until it stopped only inches from its starting position. Harry tried not to blush as the other boys burst out laughing. Through the sound of their howls he could hear the teacher sigh, “Pathetic,” under his breath, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
Harry chewed the inside of his lip and hung his head in shame, trudging back onto the pitch so another boy could take his place. As the game kicked off again Harry stood in the same place. Shivering violently as the rain pelted him with their cold droplets. He prayed it was nearly the end. They must have been standing out there for at least forty minutes, so Harry knew with confidence the school day was nearly over. And sure enough, Sir blew on his whistle and sent the boys to the changing rooms.
Harry shuffled into the warm room, heading over to his corner and pulling his wet top over his head daintily. Around him a small pudding was forming as it dripped from his hair and off of his clothes. He tried hard not to get any mud on his school clothing. He already had to meet Louis looking like a wet dog; he didn’t want to look dirty too. “Alright, Styles?” he heard that familiar voice. Harry closed his eyes, knowing Bert was here to taunt him. “Good game, yeah? You should try a bit harder next time. Maybe if you could actually kick the ball I wouldn’t be so tempted to punch your face in.” He snorted with laughter, to which his friends followed. “Better luck next time, chum,” Bert slapped an arm around Harry’s bare back, “oh, and err...tell your sister thanks for the other night.” Bert gave Harry a disgusting wink and walked away, a demonic glint in his eye. Harry could only stare after him. His sister wouldn’t do that, would she? Sure, she wasn’t the purest of souls, but Bert? He was positive even his sister had standards. But then again, he couldn’t be so sure of anything anymore. He didn’t even know his family anymore. Harry licked his lips and continued changing, fully aware that the minutes were ticking on and that Louis was no doubt in his car, driving to meet him.
-
“You off then?” a brown haired boy asked, handing an elderly gentleman his pint of beer. He was speaking to another boy who had just emerged from the toilet wearing a grey knitted jumper; a black work shirt he’d previously been wearing was in his hand. “Yeah, finished at three, didn’t I?” Louis replied, pushing his fringe out of his eyes. He checked his watch noticing it read 3:12p.m. He smiled to himself. “Oh yeah?” the other boy asked, leaning forward and placing his hands on the bar, “you going out, or just going back to the house?” Louis smiled at his friend and workmate, a smile that was somewhat cheeky yet secretive, “I may be meeting someone. Not that it’s any of your business, Liam.” Liam raised his eyebrows in interest, “It’s certainly my business if you’re gonna be bringing someone back to the house.”
Louis looked down shyly, “Nah. No worries. It’s not like that anyway.” Liam raised his eyebrows again, this time in surprise, “No? Then what is it like?” Louis licked his lips, “We’re just friends. I kind of like it that way though. Do you know what I mean? I’m comfortable around him. I don’t feel like I have to try so hard. It’s just natural around him.” Louis shrugged casually, while Liam widened his eyes. “Him? It’s a him?” a smirk replaced his shocked expression, “So you’re back on the boys then? Been a long while, hasn’t it?” Louis shot him a look of disapproval, but chuckled anyway, “Shut up, Liam. Look, I have to run. I’ll see you later tonight.”
Liam nodded, watching as Louis grabbed his car keys and placed his bag on his shoulder. “I think Zayn’s getting a pizza tonight. Says he wants to watch that movie about people being stitched to other people’s arses.” Liam sighed at Zayn’s odd taste in films before adding, “You can bring your friend round tonight if you want. I was joking before.” Louis shook his head with a smile, “Nah, it’s okay. It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“Oh, okay. Well, see you.” Liam said as Louis rushed out of the doors. Louis held his bag over his head as he ran to his car, his shoes already drenched from stepping in a puddle. He grumbled to himself as he fiddled with his car keys, eventually managing to unlock it. He clambered into the driver’s side and franticly shook his head causing droplets of water to fly off of his hair. He checked in his mirror to see that he didn’t look to gross before turning the engine on and driving away.
-
Sure enough, there he was. He wasn’t standing outside leaning effortlessly cool against his car like yesterday, but instead was sat inside protected from the rain, looking through his streaky windows in search of the young boy. As soon as he spotted the curls he gave a wide grin and sounded the horn. Harry blushed as people jumped and turned towards the car in question. Inside Harry felt proud as he walked towards the navy Mini, but on the outside he was dying from embarrassment. He hunched in his coat as he slid into the passenger’s seat, goose-bumps erupting at the warmth that greeted him. “Hi.” Louis said. Harry could tell he was smiling just from the sound of his voice. “Hi.” Harry said back dryly, his curls sticking to his face. “Where to?” Louis asked, foot already on the clutch, eager to go. Harry shrugged, “I don’t mind.” Louis shrugged back, driving out of the school. Harry noticed he didn’t turn on the radio like yesterday, but he found the beat of the rain on the window strangely comforting.
“How are you?” Louis began the conversation. “Fine.” Harry replied bluntly. “School okay?” Louis took his eyes off of the road for a split second to stare worryingly at his passenger. “Fine.” Harry repeated. “You seem miserable.” Louis noted rather light-heartedly. “I’m cold and I’m wet.” Harry muttered with his teeth gritted. This was the reason Harry was moody, but it was more to do with the fact that Louis had to see him in this state rather than the fact that he was cold and wet. He felt embarrassed and uncomfortable, although he did notice that Louis’ hair seemed rather damp too. “Well, let’s warm you up then.” Louis said, a bit more flirtatious than he intended it to be. Harry’s breath hitched nervously in his throat, although he tried not to make it obvious. “D-do you like hot chocolate?” Louis asked, cursing to himself once he realised how patronising it sounded. He wasn’t talking to a child. Harry was at least seventeen. “I’m more of a coffee person.” Harry muttered. Louis cleared his throat and nodded, swinging into a rather empty street and parking on the side of the road. “There’s a cafe just down the road. Fancy a drink?” Louis turned to look at Harry properly for the first time since he got in the car. He noticed the boy looked slightly sad, and that he was very wet indeed. Louis laughed at the dripping curls and placed his hand over Harry’s, which he discovered was freezing cold. “Come on.” He said quietly, un-strapping his seatbelt and exiting the car to greet the harsh rain.
Minutes later they were nestled at the back of a tiny but warm cafe. A mug of frothy coffee was clutched in Harry’s hands as he tried to warm them up, while Louis sipped on his black coffee. It felt slightly awkward, they had to admit. Neither was particularly sure what to say. Louis was just about to ask Harry if his coffee was alright, when Harry opened his mouth. “Louis, do you realise you don’t know anything about me?” Louis blinked in surprise at the fact that the young boy had the courage to speak without being spoken to first. “Yes I realise. But, you don’t know anything about me either.” He replied. “Well, then why are we here again?” Harry muttered.
Louis frowned, “What do you mean ‘here again’? We’ve never been to this cafe.” Harry sighed, “I meant this situation. The same we were in yesterday. Awkward conversation. Not knowing what to say to one another because we don’t actually know anything about each other. Why did you come again?” Louis laughed at Harry’s words, “Well, you asked me to. And I wanted to. The truth is Harry, I feel comfortable around you. Sure, I’ve only just met you, but I like you. I told you that. But, if you think we should know more about each other, than I think we should play a game.” Harry raised his eyebrows and sipped from his mug. He noted the bitter coffee and the frothed milk was not as nice as the ones at home. “A game?” he asked with interest. “Yeah. I ask you a question, and then you answer it. And then you get to ask me one. Sound fair?” Harry nodded. “Okay, I’ll go first. How come you hate your family?”
Harry’s eyes shot up to meet his. “Wha-” he began to argue, but Louis interrupted. “Answer the question, Harry.” Harry sighed and looked deep into his coffee cup, thinking of the right words to say. “I don’t hate them, not all of them anyway. My mum, she just doesn’t understand. The moment she re-married was the moment she forgot I was her son. My sister’s just an idiot. And my dad...well, I don’t have a dad. Not really. My dad ran off to Spain when I was five. Robin’s my step-father. I hate him. And he hates me. It’s mutual.” Harry breathed and looked back up. Louis’ blue eyes were sad, but not sympathetic. Louis didn’t like in sympathy, he thought it was patronising. He didn’t say a word though, only nodding at Harry with understanding. “So, I get to ask you one now?” Louis nodded again at Harry’s question. “How old are you?” Louis chuckled as he licked his lips, “I’m twenty. Nearly twenty-one. How old are you?” Harry swallowed, a little embarrassed, “I’m seventeen.”
Both were quite aware of the age difference. There was almost a four year difference between them. It wasn’t much in reality, but somehow Harry couldn’t help but feel Louis was so much more mature than himself. He’d been out of school for three years. He was an adult who did adult things. Harry was still a baby, who had homework and his dinner cooked for him every night. Louis also felt that Harry was so much younger than himself. But Louis thought Harry was so much more mature than any other seventeen year old he had ever met. It was worrying, really. Almost like Harry had had to make sense of the world for himself, despite the fact he has the money for someone to do that for him. But what neither of them dared tell the other is that they enjoyed this factor of their relationship. Harry felt protected, and loved the idea that Louis could show him the world, the dangerous side and the more thrilling side. And Louis enjoyed that too. He wanted to walk hand in hand with the seventeen year old and never let go. They looked into each other’s eyes, the steam from their drinks slightly hiding their smiles.
Harry chewed the inside of his lip and hung his head in shame, trudging back onto the pitch so another boy could take his place. As the game kicked off again Harry stood in the same place. Shivering violently as the rain pelted him with their cold droplets. He prayed it was nearly the end. They must have been standing out there for at least forty minutes, so Harry knew with confidence the school day was nearly over. And sure enough, Sir blew on his whistle and sent the boys to the changing rooms.
Harry shuffled into the warm room, heading over to his corner and pulling his wet top over his head daintily. Around him a small pudding was forming as it dripped from his hair and off of his clothes. He tried hard not to get any mud on his school clothing. He already had to meet Louis looking like a wet dog; he didn’t want to look dirty too. “Alright, Styles?” he heard that familiar voice. Harry closed his eyes, knowing Bert was here to taunt him. “Good game, yeah? You should try a bit harder next time. Maybe if you could actually kick the ball I wouldn’t be so tempted to punch your face in.” He snorted with laughter, to which his friends followed. “Better luck next time, chum,” Bert slapped an arm around Harry’s bare back, “oh, and err...tell your sister thanks for the other night.” Bert gave Harry a disgusting wink and walked away, a demonic glint in his eye. Harry could only stare after him. His sister wouldn’t do that, would she? Sure, she wasn’t the purest of souls, but Bert? He was positive even his sister had standards. But then again, he couldn’t be so sure of anything anymore. He didn’t even know his family anymore. Harry licked his lips and continued changing, fully aware that the minutes were ticking on and that Louis was no doubt in his car, driving to meet him.
-
“You off then?” a brown haired boy asked, handing an elderly gentleman his pint of beer. He was speaking to another boy who had just emerged from the toilet wearing a grey knitted jumper; a black work shirt he’d previously been wearing was in his hand. “Yeah, finished at three, didn’t I?” Louis replied, pushing his fringe out of his eyes. He checked his watch noticing it read 3:12p.m. He smiled to himself. “Oh yeah?” the other boy asked, leaning forward and placing his hands on the bar, “you going out, or just going back to the house?” Louis smiled at his friend and workmate, a smile that was somewhat cheeky yet secretive, “I may be meeting someone. Not that it’s any of your business, Liam.” Liam raised his eyebrows in interest, “It’s certainly my business if you’re gonna be bringing someone back to the house.”
Louis looked down shyly, “Nah. No worries. It’s not like that anyway.” Liam raised his eyebrows again, this time in surprise, “No? Then what is it like?” Louis licked his lips, “We’re just friends. I kind of like it that way though. Do you know what I mean? I’m comfortable around him. I don’t feel like I have to try so hard. It’s just natural around him.” Louis shrugged casually, while Liam widened his eyes. “Him? It’s a him?” a smirk replaced his shocked expression, “So you’re back on the boys then? Been a long while, hasn’t it?” Louis shot him a look of disapproval, but chuckled anyway, “Shut up, Liam. Look, I have to run. I’ll see you later tonight.”
Liam nodded, watching as Louis grabbed his car keys and placed his bag on his shoulder. “I think Zayn’s getting a pizza tonight. Says he wants to watch that movie about people being stitched to other people’s arses.” Liam sighed at Zayn’s odd taste in films before adding, “You can bring your friend round tonight if you want. I was joking before.” Louis shook his head with a smile, “Nah, it’s okay. It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“Oh, okay. Well, see you.” Liam said as Louis rushed out of the doors. Louis held his bag over his head as he ran to his car, his shoes already drenched from stepping in a puddle. He grumbled to himself as he fiddled with his car keys, eventually managing to unlock it. He clambered into the driver’s side and franticly shook his head causing droplets of water to fly off of his hair. He checked in his mirror to see that he didn’t look to gross before turning the engine on and driving away.
-
Sure enough, there he was. He wasn’t standing outside leaning effortlessly cool against his car like yesterday, but instead was sat inside protected from the rain, looking through his streaky windows in search of the young boy. As soon as he spotted the curls he gave a wide grin and sounded the horn. Harry blushed as people jumped and turned towards the car in question. Inside Harry felt proud as he walked towards the navy Mini, but on the outside he was dying from embarrassment. He hunched in his coat as he slid into the passenger’s seat, goose-bumps erupting at the warmth that greeted him. “Hi.” Louis said. Harry could tell he was smiling just from the sound of his voice. “Hi.” Harry said back dryly, his curls sticking to his face. “Where to?” Louis asked, foot already on the clutch, eager to go. Harry shrugged, “I don’t mind.” Louis shrugged back, driving out of the school. Harry noticed he didn’t turn on the radio like yesterday, but he found the beat of the rain on the window strangely comforting.
“How are you?” Louis began the conversation. “Fine.” Harry replied bluntly. “School okay?” Louis took his eyes off of the road for a split second to stare worryingly at his passenger. “Fine.” Harry repeated. “You seem miserable.” Louis noted rather light-heartedly. “I’m cold and I’m wet.” Harry muttered with his teeth gritted. This was the reason Harry was moody, but it was more to do with the fact that Louis had to see him in this state rather than the fact that he was cold and wet. He felt embarrassed and uncomfortable, although he did notice that Louis’ hair seemed rather damp too. “Well, let’s warm you up then.” Louis said, a bit more flirtatious than he intended it to be. Harry’s breath hitched nervously in his throat, although he tried not to make it obvious. “D-do you like hot chocolate?” Louis asked, cursing to himself once he realised how patronising it sounded. He wasn’t talking to a child. Harry was at least seventeen. “I’m more of a coffee person.” Harry muttered. Louis cleared his throat and nodded, swinging into a rather empty street and parking on the side of the road. “There’s a cafe just down the road. Fancy a drink?” Louis turned to look at Harry properly for the first time since he got in the car. He noticed the boy looked slightly sad, and that he was very wet indeed. Louis laughed at the dripping curls and placed his hand over Harry’s, which he discovered was freezing cold. “Come on.” He said quietly, un-strapping his seatbelt and exiting the car to greet the harsh rain.
Minutes later they were nestled at the back of a tiny but warm cafe. A mug of frothy coffee was clutched in Harry’s hands as he tried to warm them up, while Louis sipped on his black coffee. It felt slightly awkward, they had to admit. Neither was particularly sure what to say. Louis was just about to ask Harry if his coffee was alright, when Harry opened his mouth. “Louis, do you realise you don’t know anything about me?” Louis blinked in surprise at the fact that the young boy had the courage to speak without being spoken to first. “Yes I realise. But, you don’t know anything about me either.” He replied. “Well, then why are we here again?” Harry muttered.
Louis frowned, “What do you mean ‘here again’? We’ve never been to this cafe.” Harry sighed, “I meant this situation. The same we were in yesterday. Awkward conversation. Not knowing what to say to one another because we don’t actually know anything about each other. Why did you come again?” Louis laughed at Harry’s words, “Well, you asked me to. And I wanted to. The truth is Harry, I feel comfortable around you. Sure, I’ve only just met you, but I like you. I told you that. But, if you think we should know more about each other, than I think we should play a game.” Harry raised his eyebrows and sipped from his mug. He noted the bitter coffee and the frothed milk was not as nice as the ones at home. “A game?” he asked with interest. “Yeah. I ask you a question, and then you answer it. And then you get to ask me one. Sound fair?” Harry nodded. “Okay, I’ll go first. How come you hate your family?”
Harry’s eyes shot up to meet his. “Wha-” he began to argue, but Louis interrupted. “Answer the question, Harry.” Harry sighed and looked deep into his coffee cup, thinking of the right words to say. “I don’t hate them, not all of them anyway. My mum, she just doesn’t understand. The moment she re-married was the moment she forgot I was her son. My sister’s just an idiot. And my dad...well, I don’t have a dad. Not really. My dad ran off to Spain when I was five. Robin’s my step-father. I hate him. And he hates me. It’s mutual.” Harry breathed and looked back up. Louis’ blue eyes were sad, but not sympathetic. Louis didn’t like in sympathy, he thought it was patronising. He didn’t say a word though, only nodding at Harry with understanding. “So, I get to ask you one now?” Louis nodded again at Harry’s question. “How old are you?” Louis chuckled as he licked his lips, “I’m twenty. Nearly twenty-one. How old are you?” Harry swallowed, a little embarrassed, “I’m seventeen.”
Both were quite aware of the age difference. There was almost a four year difference between them. It wasn’t much in reality, but somehow Harry couldn’t help but feel Louis was so much more mature than himself. He’d been out of school for three years. He was an adult who did adult things. Harry was still a baby, who had homework and his dinner cooked for him every night. Louis also felt that Harry was so much younger than himself. But Louis thought Harry was so much more mature than any other seventeen year old he had ever met. It was worrying, really. Almost like Harry had had to make sense of the world for himself, despite the fact he has the money for someone to do that for him. But what neither of them dared tell the other is that they enjoyed this factor of their relationship. Harry felt protected, and loved the idea that Louis could show him the world, the dangerous side and the more thrilling side. And Louis enjoyed that too. He wanted to walk hand in hand with the seventeen year old and never let go. They looked into each other’s eyes, the steam from their drinks slightly hiding their smiles.