We Had the Right Kind of Love // L.S.

Chapter 13. Relief

"Go Niall go!" I scream at the top of my lungs, my voice getting lost in the roaring of the crowd that surrounds me. I watch my friend sprint down the field, the black and white ball a blur at his feet. It's one of the school games against Royal, our rival school, and so far Niall has scored two goals.

"Where's he now Harry?" Mia asks, tugging on Harry's sweatshirt and looking adoringly at his flushed cheeks against his porcelain skin.

"He's right there, just passed Taylor," Harry points and she nods like she actually cares about the game.

It hadn't been a surprise when Harry asked me if it would be alright if he asked Mia out. I knew eventually this whole I-Don't-Date-Because-My-Best-Friend-Is-More-Important thing was going to wear off but that didn't mean it didn't still sting at my heart as I looked into his visibly hopeful eyes.

I had told him it was fine; that I didn't care, but that was as far from the truth as I could possibly get. Of fucking course I cared, I would always care. I would constantly find myself getting lost in his freaking gorgeous green eyes and wished they looked at me the way they are now looking at Mia.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be and yet, I just let it happen.

I glance over at the two of them wrapped up in each other's arms, swaying to the cheers to the whoops of the crowd, their attention far away from the game playing out before them. They were lovesick, it had been blooming ever since Spring and all through the summer. While I was having the revelation that I was fucking in love with Harry, he was off texting Mia into the early hours of the morning and glowing a radiant shade of gold the next day.

If this was what being in love felt liked, I hated it.

I fucking hated it.

"Half time," Liam says, bumping my shoulder, "wanna go get drinks?"

"Yeah, I could do with a hot chocolate," I agree, and we walk down from the bleachers behind Zayn who has his arm around Perrie's shoulder and is whispering something in her ear that's making her giggle like an idiot.

Zayn's idiot.

The two of them had got together early this fall and had been down irreparable ever since. Gone were our weekend sleepovers and in their place double dates to which Liam nor I could participate in. And though I was happy for them, it felt like middle school all over again. Once again my friends were moving on and I was stuck in the dust, behind, lost, and confused why I couldn't be like them.

We get in line, and I tune out Liam's talking as I watch Mia study the list of drinks nailed to the side of the wall. She must have offered to get the two of them drinks and I can hear Harry's signature laugh from where he's in some conversation with a group of guys who don't acknowledge my existence unless I'm with Harry.

"I'll have two apple ciders please," Mia says when it's her turn to order and before I can stop myself, I butt in.

"Harry likes hot chocolate," I say and then internally groan. I'd been doing so good about bugging out of Harry's relationship this year. I never came over when she was over, I never complained when she was top priority on the weekends, or when I had to spend the weekend alone at my dad's while he went off to the movies with her. I never called him out when he'd say, "Let's do homework after school," and then not show which usually left me working on my homework at the Styles' kitchen table with Gemma.

I had been doing so well until now.

"I—he does?" she asks, furrowing her perfectly shaped brows. I had to give her that, she was beautiful. Dark hair, tan skin, and a radiant smile that was infectious no matter how much I wanted to hate her.