LOUIS
Harry is reading again, nose buried in a book as Niall continues cheering us on. He occasionally tries to break Harry's concentration, but Harry isn't moving. He's intriguing in a way I can't put into words, but we're complete opposites. Harry is as quiet as I'm loud, as composed as I'm uneasy, and as sweet as I'm sometimes not.
Everyone is aware I exist. And not only because our university's newspaper had something to say concerning me. Yet no one remembers Harry's name. I remember it exclusively because Niall—my roommate—somehow befriended him. We've never exchanged any words, yet I can't stop glancing towards our bleachers.
"Louis," Zayn says, coming up to me as an opponent complains to our referee. "Where are you?"
"Do you not see me?" I question. "Have you gone blind?"
"You're in your head."
"Have you scored yet?"
"Quit it, won't you?"
"I'm good," I say. "We're winning, aren't we?"
"You're in your head."
"I am," I say. "It just isn't important."
"It's important if you're not moving."
"I am moving."
He seems unconvinced, but we're interrupted as our referee starts our game again. I move and ensure us a proper win as I score again. My teammates are crashing into me but making me laugh. Hazel comes towards me once I've escaped, arms wrapping around my neck as I stare up at Harry again. He meets my eyes, gaze soon on Hazel instead. He goes soon, escaping our post-game mess to presumably reach his room. He's 2 years behind us, so we're in separate room-complexes as well as separate ends of campus.
"You were so good."
"I'm sweaty, so can you just... not."
I receive a giggle in response. I reach around so I can unwrap both arms myself, ignoring any expression put on to manipulate me into accepting affection I'm not interested in.
"Drinks are on you."
I pout but accept it as Liam spins around so I can jump onto his back. We revel in our victory some more but soon go back so we can wash away sweat and grass stains. We put on sweats so we can put everything in our rooms and continue out and into London centrum. We pick our usual spot and squeeze into a booth as Liam gets us something to drink.
"Are you worried?" Zayn questions, pleased as Liam comes back. "Someone's gonna cover our game."
"I'm not worried," I say, accepting my drink as Liam pushes it my way. "Twice is unnecessary."
"Once was unnecessary," Liam points out. "No one was wronged as much as you."
"A Freshman's assumptions aren't important anyway," Niall says. "No one even cared."
I cared. As wrong as it was—as unimportant as it was—some words had an unexpected impact. But I suppose Niall isn't wrong. Not that many people read our newspaper anyway.
"Moving on," I say, ignoring any concerned expressions, "I'm gonna request a new roommate."
Niall snorts. "You're so dramatic."
I avert my gaze to Liam and Zayn. "His crush is spinning out of control. He can't stop masturbating—or getting caught."
Liam grins. "You are aware our nurse is 30, right?"
