Baby, We're Invincible

Harry had found himself frantically searching for Emmah since his disaster meeting with her on Monday. It was now Thursday, and tomorrow the team would be playing their division rivals. To say he was nervous was an understatement, but his anxiety over being unable to locate his little brunette overwhelmed those nerves. He was amazed how it was so hard to locate one person, when the school wasn’t even that big.

He’d decided to opt out of lunch that afternoon, knowing fully well that when practice came around he would regret it. He spent his lunch lounging outside, soaking up the last of the decent fall weather before winter would surely assert itself in the atmosphere. He contemplated not going back inside, maybe even skipping the rest of the day entirely, but his grades would suffer.

When he stepped into the main hallway, he was almost immediately intercepted. A tall blonde stood in his way, an angry look on her face as she stopped him in his tracks. He squinted at her for a moment, trying to place who she was. After a beat he recognized her as Mila; she was on the dance team that performed at his home football games, and she dated one of the quiet guys on the team, Zayn. If he remembered correctly, she was also on the girl’s football team in the spring.

“Oh, there you are Styles.” She sneered, looking like a woman seriously scorned. He was nervous, wondering why she was addressing him in such a way. They were hardly even acquaintances- he’d maybe greeted her once or twice when they were at the same party.

“Er, hi.” He raised a brow. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, ‘can I help you’?” She mocked. “How dare you and your wanker, arse head friends direct your shitty comments at my best friend! I swear to-”

“What are you talking about?” Harry exclaimed. He threw his hands up defensively, a universal sign that he would not partake in a scuffle if Mila were to attempt to fight him. She practically began to steam like a tea kettle at his question, visibly becoming angrier.

“I heard all about how you and your big headed cronies were making fun of Emmah! I bet you think you’re real cute, don’t you? I swear-”

“Dude, I’m so sorry.” Zayn must’ve witnessed the scene brewing, just like everyone within five yards’ reach. The hallway was very quiet, with students hanging around in silence taking in the brewing spectacle. Harry knew that if Mila smacked him in front of all of these people like she looked to be about to, his dignity would never recover. He was thankful for Zayn interjecting.

“Babe, relax,” Zayn muttered to her, placing his arm around her waist and speaking in hushed tones to her. “Let’s just ask him about it before we get carried away, okay?”

She glared at Zayn, and for a second Harry was a bit worried for his teammate. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Mila huffed, looking annoyed that her style had been cramped by Zayn. “Styles, you have one chance to explain yourself before I rearrange your face.”

Harry silently thanked Zayn with a look. He had no doubts that Mila, regardless of her size, would back out on her threat. He swallowed. “Look, I was just talking to her. She was interviewing me for the paper, and then one of the rookies made a comment and I tried to apologize for it, I really did. But I haven’t been able to find her.”

Mila assessed him wearily, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared him down. Harry felt like a defenseless animal under her gaze as he waited with baited breath, hoping he wasn’t about to get slaughtered in front of his peers. Everyone seemed to be on the edge of their seats; this was the most entertainment they’d get for the whole day.

“Well, you better find her and apologize.” Mila growled, her blue eyes flashing dangerously. She shot her boyfriend a dark look, more than likely for intervening, before stalking off.

“So sorry about that.” Zayn mumbled as the hall began to clear, people realizing there was nothing to be seen any longer. Harry chuckled, shaking his head. He didn’t know Zayn well enough on the team, but he was a quiet bloke compared to his feisty girlfriend. “She’s just got a big heart.”

A “big heart” wasn’t something Harry would use to describe Mila after his run-in with her, but he accepted the apology nonetheless. “It’s understandable, mate. Tell her I’m sorry.”

He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder, feeling relieved to be able to live to see another day. His converse shuffled squeakily against the tile floor. Begrudgingly, he began the trek to his history classroom.

When Harry rounded the corner, he felt like he got sucker-punched in the gut. There at the water fountain, filling up a plastic bottle, was the girl that he’d been searching for. He stood stock still for a moment, attempting to gather his thoughts before he quickly approached her.

“Hey,” He murmured quietly. The sound of his voice startled her and she jumped a little, splashes of water sloshing out of the bottle. When she saw it was him, she narrowed her eyes to thin slits. “Look, please-”

“Do you need something?”

Harry had managed to somehow personally tick off the entire female population, he was sure of it. He immediately felt stupid as he fidgeted in place, feeling two feet tall as he tried to think of what to say. He stared at her for a moment, taking in her soft demeanor and replaying her quiet voice. He didn’t understand how someone like her could be friends with big, bad Mila. Then again, he only knew her name. He supposed he didn’t know enough about her to judge who her friends were.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you.” Harry told her. She merely blankly stared at him, so he took this as his go-ahead. “Uh, I’m really sorry... Emmah. I didn’t know they were going to say that. Seriously, they’re a bunch of pricks. I’m just sorry. If you want to finish the interview, or-”

“Don’t worry, I’m doing the story on something else.” She murmured hastily, making a motion to move around him. Harry stopped her, his hand light on her wrist.

“You don’t have to do that. I play tomorrow-”

“Deadline is in,” She glanced at the thin, silver watch on her wrist. “Two hours. Really, it’s fine. I don’t need anything.”

With that she put her head down, pushing past him. Harry turned to watch her retreating figure, her curly ponytail bouncing off of her back as she retreated. The only thing that lingered was that familiar scent of vanilla, and he instantly decided that he liked it a lot.

The exchange really had no outcome, but Harry found himself smiling nonetheless as he walked to history.