From the Wrong Side of Town l.s.

Chapter 3: Harry

A/N River has vowed that they are going to end my bloodline for some of the plans I have later in the book, so that's your warning. 

 "Why did you do it," I ask when the principal left the room to go grab our files. Apparently they thought it better to not keep student files in the principal's office for some unheard of reason.

"What do you mean," he asks, confusion clear on his face.

"You knew it was going to blow up, so why?"

"You've never done a thing wrong, and he was yelling and yelling at you for something neither of us knew was going to happen and I just wanted him to stop and the man hates my guts, so I figured it would get him to shut up," he explains as the principal comes back into the room. He sets two folders down, vastly different in size. The thicker of the two, reading Tomlinson, Louis, W. at the top seemed like it couldn't have fit anything more inside it. Mine however, was as thin as a single sheet of printer paper.

"Lou," the principal starts. "Is Jay working today," he asks. Louis shakes his head, before muttering something about the twins and not having a babysitter today. The principal sadly nods, seemingly thinking about the situation. "You know how much your mum hates when you get in trouble at school," he scolds.

"I know," he says. "Mr.Nicholson was just going off on Harry who's never done anything wrong and I needed to do something to make him stop," he explained. The principal nodded, with this knowing look as if he knew something I didn't.

"Harold," he says, turning to me. "I need to call your parents." I was sure everyone could see the panic on my face.

"Please no. It's hard enough," I murmur, pulling my knees up to my chest.

"Lou," the principal asked, panicked. He simply nodded, pulling me from the chair. For a while, he was pulling me along until we reached a set of double doors that led out to the track. When we were finally outside, I felt like I could actually breathe for once.

"Talk to me," he asked, sticking his hands in his pockets and began slowly walking.

"I don't know," I muttered. I wanted to break down every little thing I'd been feeling: the pressure, the fear, and most of all, the isolation. "Have you ever felt like you were just this observer in your own life," I ask.

"Once, before I came out. My sisters kept saying that people aren't actually gay. They were still very young and didn't really understand the whole thing, but I think my mum may have had a suspicion that I was because when she scolded my sisters, and I just sat there numb and felt like I could see everything happening, but none of it really felt real," he explain. The way he said it embodied every feeling I'd had since I'd come to terms with the fact that I was gay. Of course, I had told very few people. I'd told my sister and Niall had figured it out on his own, but they were the only ones who knew.

"Don't tell anyone," I asked, taking a deep breath. He nodded in a way of promising he wouldn't say a word. And he never did, not until everything came crashing down in something similar to a hell fire. But it was hell fire I would have walked through to be with him. "My parents, they like to make these little snide comments about everyone that's gay they see, especially if I'm with them. They're kind of crazy religious, and think it's okay to justify their homophobia with their religion," I begin.

"And you're not religious," he asks.

"Not as much. It's obviously beliefs that they've stuffed in my head since I was a kid, but sometimes they take it a little too far, especially using it to justify their homophobia. Especially to their closeted gay kid," I explain, glancing up at him. His face changes a couple times as he processes this information. At the end, he simply smiles, continuing to walk.

"I'd be happy to shut them up," he jokes. I smile at him. This was the boy I was falling for more and more everyday.

"And they put so much pressure on me in school. They expect me to get perfect grades and to never do a single bad thing. And when the principal suggested calling them, I just wanted to break down because if they knew that I'd gotten in trouble, much less with you everything would go to shit a whole hell of a lot faster than it is."

"Why is it worse if it's with me," he asked, stopping and turning to face me.

"Most of dad's snide remarks are at you," I quietly admit. "And I don't have the courage to tell him to shut up because he doesn't know you. He scares me, Louis. I'm scared to be in that house half of the time."

"Oh, baby," he muttered, pulling me tightly into a hug. It seemed that we both realized what he said at the same time and neither of us really knew what to do. For a few moments we just stood there awkwardly standing and looking at each other. "Oh for fuck's sake, I like you okay," he shouted after a minute or two.

"Then I guess it's a really good thing that I really like you," I respond, beginning to walk around the track once more.

________________________________

"Gather round," our teachers instructed. When most of the class was sitting around them like we'd done when we were children, they'd hollered for the rest of us to actually sit down and quit complaining. Louis had taken a seat next to me and would occasionally poke my side because he wanted my attention. Never in my life did I think the boy of my dreams would think of me as the boy of his dreams.

"Today, because a couple of the teachers are out, we decided to combine you all together for a large game of dodgeball." There were several excited cries around the room, but that statement made me slightly dread this class period. Here's the thing: I loathe dodgeball. Especially when all the seniors decide to target the weaker underclassmen (a.k.a. me).

"But we're not doing your traditional dodgeball," he continued. "We're playing partner dodgeball," he added on. Everyone was glancing around the room, trying to put partners together before the teachers had even said to find partners. "However, we've noticed whenever we combine classes to play dodgeball, the upperclassmen tend to target the underclassmen, so we're partnering you up," the other teacher informed us. At this, Louis poked my side, apparently needing my attention while one of the teachers rattled off the list of names.

"I hope they put us together," he whispered to me.

"Liam Payne and Zayn Malik," they pause, allowing the pair to find each other. "Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles," they called out and waited for either of us to move before noticing the two of us already sitting together. They just smiled in a way that said they knew everything, which I guess in a way they did.

"My partner is the cutest boy in the world," Louis whispered to me while poking my side.

"I beg your fucking pardon," Louis asked, nailing one of the upperclassmen in the chest with a dodgeball. "Nobody fucking messes with me, got it," he threatened. When the man sat down, he walked back over to me and helped me back up.

Naturally, nobody even tried to get Louis or I out for the rest of the game and he ended up slamming ball after ball into our classmates.

"Harry," he called, tossing a ball in my direction. I barely caught it. He nodded his head towards a pair that seemed to not have caught wind of the fact that it was a very bad idea to mess with Louis, and I guessed me by association.

"I can't," I insisted, shaking my head. He furrowed his face at my words, walking over to where I had been shakily standing.

"Nonsense, angel. You can do anything," he softly told me, squeezing one of my hands gently, before turning back to the two coming near us and hitting one square in the chest. Shakily, I tossed the ball he'd handed me at the other person, the ball gently scraping their arm. The pair that had come over, sat down on the floor, frowns on their faces. "See, I told you," Louis gently said, lacing our fingers together. He was holding my hand. I could live in this moment right here forever. But forever never lasts.