Enemies || l.s.

0.6

The week went by painfully slow. Both boys had built a wall between each other, even in the hallways, when Louis would usually tease Harry, he swerved away from him.

Harry didn't care, though. He didn't have much in him to care.

How could he be so stupid? He thought. How could he have thought Louis would change after all those years? The word he called him bounces off the walls of his brain, over and over again, and he has to slam the locker to stop himself from thinking about it again.

He earned a few glares from people around him but didn't care.

"Haz!" He hears his name being called, and whips around to see Calum running towards him.

"Hey," he mutters, clutching his school books close to his chest.

"Haven't seen you around, How's it been?" He says.

That's cause I was trying to avoid you, he thought, but he didn't want to say that. It's not his fault his friend almost took advantage of him.

"I've been great." He lies through his teeth, because that's the exact opposite of how he's been.

"Oh, cool." Calum nods, and they continue to walk in silence to the lunchroom.

"So, I was kinda wondering," Calum speaks up, "are you still going to the party tonight?"

Harry slaps his head, completely forgetting about the party this Friday.

"Holy shit! I totally forgot!" Harry told Calum. After all that's happened, certain things just kind of slipped his mind, and was forgotten.

"Well, are you gonna go? Or.." Calum asked. But Harry shrugged his shoulders, he kinda just wanted to go home today.

"I dunno, I kinda just want to get done work done. Sorry."

"Aw, c'mon Harry. Niall and Liam are going, and Ashton too, so you won't be alone."

Harry flinched at the mention of Ashton. Part off the reason why he didn't want to go was because of Ashton.

"No, Calum." Harry said firmly. He turned to walk away from him, his cheeks heating up in anger, when he feels his hand wrap around his wrist.

"Harry-" Calum starts, but Harry didn't let him finish.

"What the hell is it with every one touching me?" He raises his voice towards him. "Fuck off! Do you know what that means? Does anyone know what that means?"

Calum stands there, confused and suprised at Harry's harsh and snappy demeanor. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly closes it.

"Just...forget it. Do what you want," he mutters, anger and hurt behind his words.

Harry suddenly feels a pang of guilt for the poor boy as he walks away. He didn't mean to yell at him, he just didn't want to be touched. He picks at the fringe of his ripped jeans, his cheeks heating up again.

Fuck.

----

"Harder, Louis! Harder!" The voice in his ear commands him.

He grits his teeth in frustration, sweat rolling down his tan, and toned body as he fires punch after punch into the punching bag.

"Damnit, Louis! You're punching like a girl!" His coach--also known as his dad--barks at him, making him even more riled up.

Finally, with the last power punch, the coach throws in the towel.

Louis knows he's mad at him. But he doesn't care, anyway. Everyone seems to be mad at him, and by everyone he means Harry.