Baby, We're Invincible

Harry rolled over in bed with the muggy feeling that came along with too much sleep in a warm room. He groaned, peeling his eyes open slowly despite the hazy feeling. He lay there for a moment, stretching out his arms and grazing them over the soft sheets. He frowned a bit as he lay there, a weird feeling overcoming him. He twisted onto his side and stared at the spot next to him; he’d had an overwhelming dream about a brunette girl that had been sharing the bed with him and she’d gone to bed mad at him. Something about waking up from that dream without that issue settled did not sit right with him.

“Harry! You better be up! You can’t be late for school again.” His mom called. Harry let out a groan, deciding to abandon his bed without fight. Even after a brief shower, he couldn’t wash the weird feeling from his skin. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his bed had been too empty that morning- the dream was too realistic for his taste.

He made small chatter with his mother over a quick breakfast. Afterward he thanked her with a kiss on the cheek and he grabbed his backpack, hoisting it over his shoulder and making his way outside. It was relatively nice out for a fall day so Harry didn’t really mind the short walk to school.

“Styles, what’s up? Remember, practice at field B at four.”

Harry glanced in the direction of the shout, nodding with a grin at his teammate. Nick was the team captain of the school football team, and also a life-long friend of his. When he got closer, he thumped him on the back. “Sounds good, I’ll be there.”

“Bring that attitude you had last game, your goal was awesome.” Nathan complimented him, thumping him on the shoulder roughly before jostling his way down the hallway.

Harry made his way to his locker, depositing some of his things and gathering his textbooks for the day. The hall was incredibly noisy, noisier than usual, and the sound was fogging up his head. He slammed the locker shut and pushed through the hall, greeting his friends as he encountered them.

The day couldn’t have gone by fast enough. Harry was grateful to be swapping his school things for his soccer equipment as he jogged onto the field, the crisp breeze cutting through his curly locks. He immediately snagged a practice ball and began to dribble it between his feet, watching as the rest of his teammates began drifting onto the field in clumps.

“Styles, we missed you this weekend! Where were ya, mate?” George asked, making a move to steal the ball from him. Harry expertly maneuvered the ball away from his feet, letting out a laugh as George slid a little on the damp earth. They battled one another for the ball as they fell easy into some light drills, mostly discussing their tactics from the previous game and what they would tweak for their upcoming game at the end of the week.

They were beginning to run laps around the field when Harry noticed the raven-haired girl sitting in the bleachers. He frowned a little, taking in her profile as he jogged alongside George. She had dark-rimmed spectacles, thick hair well past her shoulders, and she wore a simple outfit consisting of a nice shirt and a skirt. Her legs were not bare, but covered with a pair of dark tights that went down to the top of her battered sneakers. He’d never seen her before.

“‘Ey, who’s that?” Harry breathed out as he jerked his chin toward George. The blonde haired boy glanced in the direction Harry indicated, squinting a bit at the girl. He made a face of recognition.

“Oh, that’s the news reporter girl for the school paper. I think she’s covering football for Fabian for a few weeks.” He shrugged nonchalantly. Harry glanced her way one more time before the run dissolved into some more strenuous drills. By the time Nick had finally called an end to practice, his legs felt like jell-o and his lungs were screaming for mercy. All-in-all, it was a good days’ work.

Harry jogged to the locker room, eager to get out of his sweaty clothes so he could take a quick shower. He was always the first in, while the rest of his teammates dallied around exchanging typical male gossip about pointless subjects. He relished in the feeling of clean skin as he stood under the nozzle, the harsh droplets raining over him and plastering his hair to his skin.

Once he stepped out of the shower, he shook his hair dry and threw on a change of clothes. Stuffing his practice clothes into his bag, he made his way back outside. He was shocked to find the brunette girl awkwardly loitering around the door. He frowned a little, adjusting his bag over his shoulder as he continued to walk. She spun around, catching him off guard.

“Uh, hey. You’re Harry, right?” She spoke, her voice soft and meek as she peered at him through her spectacles. Harry stopped in his tracks at her voice. He nodded, waiting for her to step closer so he could get a better look at her features.

“Y-Yeah, that’s me.” Harry stammered, cursing himself afterward for how idiotic he sounded twisting over his words. He peered at her eyes quickly; they were a pretty hazel color that he was sure couldn’t be replicated by any amount of paints, crayons, or colored pencils.

“Could I interview you for the uh, school newspaper?” The girl stuttered, her cheeks turning a rich pink color. “You scored the game-winning goal last game, didn’t you?”

“Sure did.” Harry was sure she thought he was glaring at her with the way that he was studying her face, taking in the details that he’d tried to take in during practice. She was different from most girls that he stumbled across. Her hair was tied back into a low pony tail at the nape of her neck, her face was free of make up, and she sported a band t-shirt instead of something flashy. He could really appreciate a girl that way.

“I’ll give an interview if I get your name, at least.” Harry cleared his throat. He instantly regretted his words, knowing they could be misconstrued to make him look poorly. He was constantly coming off as a jerk without intending to.

“It’s Emmah.” She fumbled with her notebook. Her shaking hands flipped the pages until she she found a blank one and she poised her pen over the paper. Harry could sense that she really wanted out of this situation as quickly as possible.

“Alright Emmah,” Harry paused for a moment, admiring how soft her name was on his lips. He shook the silly notion from his head, focusing on her intently. “Ask away.”

She hastily fired a few questions at him, listening to his answers and scribbling them down in her notebook without much comment. Normally quiet people offset Harry, but this time he found himself not minding too much as she listened to him ramble about the pressure he’d felt after being benched last season.

Halfway through his description of his big goal, his teammates began to noisily file out of the locker room cracking inappropriate jokes. He shot them a glare as George walked by, thumping his shoulder roughly like they always did. In the presence of Emmah, this irritated him.

“Bugger off,” He grumbled under his breath as he reasserted his focus back on Emmah. He was strangely fascinated with watching her uncomfortable movements as she cast his teammates an uneasy glance.

“Is it o-”

“Is that your little girlfriend, Styles?” One of the young guys on the team jeered at the two of them, casting a gleeful look at the pair as he passed by. A few of the other guys burst into a spiteful laughter in unison. Typically, he thought his snide comment made him look cool to the rest of the team.

Harry glanced back at Emmah, and was startled when he found her glowering at him from behind her glasses. He was sure he visibly recoiled, because he lacked any form of filter in terms of his facial expressions linked to what he was feeling. He felt himself freeze.

“Er,” He stammered, feeling incredibly awkward thanks to his teammates and his nerves. He was beyond awful at talking with new people, especially cute girls, and this one seemed to want to stab him in the eye with the pen that she was clutching in her fist.

“Interview over.” She hissed, throwing the notebook shut with such a force that Harry was shocked the binding didn’t completely fall apart. He parted his lips to say something to her, perhaps apologize for his teammate being an arse but with a spin on her heels she was gone. He was left gaping at the empty air in front of him and the faint scent of her vanilla perfume.