Mr. Coach (Larry)

Chapter 5

"Liam?" 

I quickly close the door, forgetting why I went there in the first place. I turn and rush to my car. My mind's filling with different explanations to explain what's going on. Zayn's breaking the law. What I just witnessed is so illegal. 

I need to distract myself from what I just saw. The only other thing that has been consuming my mind floats to the surface and I find myself driving to my mother's house. I slip out of my car, trying to find the right words to describe the situation. Before I know it my mother is opening the front door and smiling at me. 

"Hey, Louis! Come in! What brings you here?" She leads me in the house and smiles as I hesitantly take a seat on the sofa. 

"I needed to to talk to you," I state. Her eyebrows furrow as if she already knows what I want to question her about. A bubble forms in my throat as I try to stall. She gestures for me to continue and I sigh before starting. 

"Well, I had this dream. It was of me, but I was in third-person and there was a boy. I felt like I knew him, but it was like my mind couldn't remember who it was. He had given me my jersey, you know the LA galaxy jersey? I...just, can you explain senior year to me again? I know you do it every time, but I just...need to know what this may mean," I stammer. My mother nods. 

The accident. The accident that caused me to forget all of my senior year. I hate talking about it. The event caused me to lose the information I had gained throughout my senior year and forced me to retake the year. It also made my dream of becoming a professional athlete nearly unattainable. 

From what I've been told, someone pushed me to the ground and kicked my head in. The kick ended up giving me Retrograde Amnesia. This type of amnesia resulted in me losing most of my memories before the accident, but didn't cause any long-term memory problems. The doctor said that I would have no problem remembering past skills or every day-to-day activities. I was told that my memory could be 'jogged' if people were to give me things from my past, but things that happened the day of accident, or even a few weeks before, were essentially lost forever. 

This resulted in my senior year being one big blur. Big milestones stood out, for instance I remember my birthday and the first day of school, but when it comes down to the fine details I just can't remember. My mother has always been there to answer questions for me when I need them. We've always been close which means she knows what had been going on in my life and I've never been so thankful for the closeness between us. 

"What is it that you want me to re-explain," Mom asks. Whenever I want to know about something that happened that year my mom would tell me, but typically it's always specific things I wanted to hear about. 

"Tell me about my relationships again," I answer. She sucks in a breath and looks at her hands, preparing herself to explain. My relationships are always something I've been curious about, so Mom has explained it countless times already. 

"In August you told me about Stan and how you had a crush on him. You told me that he was nerdy and you were scared about what your friends would think. Stan asked you out in November, right before your birthday, and you said yes. The two of you were still dating after the accident happened," Mother explains. The story she's told has always been short and too the point. I guess after explaining it so many times, the story shortens itself. 

"Do you have any pictures, or anything really, from the relationship? I think something's been triggering my memories. Maybe if I saw something it'll help bring it to the surface," I suggest. My mother gulps lightly and hestitantly stands. I watch her as she ventures into my old bedroom and comes back with a box. 

I don't recognize the box, so I figure she hasn't showed it to me before. She places the box on the table and opens it. The box is full of origami pieces and each origami piece is made out of a different kind and color of paper. Most of what's in the box are typical cranes, but there are also a few hearts and flowers. 

I reach in and dig around a little bit before feeling something metal. I furrow an eyebrow as I pull it out to reveal a ring. It's silver and doesn't shin anymore. I can tell I had worn it a lot from the small dings in the metal. 

"What's this," I mutter. I pull my attention from the ring and back to my mother. She wipes her teary eyes and smiles a little bit. 

"He got you that for your three month anniversary. You never left the house unless you had it on. I could tell you two were madly in love. You said it all the time and I believed it. It's a bummer you got in your accident. I can't help but imagine where you two would've been if it hadn't happened," Mother sighs. I roll my eyes and decide I'll keep the ring. It feels nice wearing it, almost like it belongs there, as if I was missing something without it. 

I slip it on my middle finger and continue looking through the pieces of origami. I find a larger crane, probably the largest, and on the outside in neat cursive was the word 'unfold'.

I love you

-S 

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the 'S' stands for Stan. 

As I go through the box a while longer, something hits me. I become heavy as I try to find a logical explanation, but nothing comes to me.

"Mom, you're telling me Stan made these all these?" She looks up and gives me a small nod. 

"It was your thing," Mom answers simply. 

"I dated Stan in tenth grade and I know that he hated origami. I know because I had that phase where I was really into it and he always teased me about it. He wouldn't put all this time into making stuff like this. And this handwriting, Stan had terrible handwriting and this is so...so neat and nice," I say slowly. 

"Louis, I think it's time for you to go." 

"What do you mean? I just got here," I protest. Mom stands and gives me a look. She gestures for me to stand and I do, following her towards the door. 

Mom opens the door, "One last thing," I whisper. She wraps her arms around herself, clearly done with the conversation. "Did I know Harry Styles?" I've never seen my mom's face become so harsh looking. Her mouth forms a scold and she polity steps back into the house.  

"Have a nice trip home," She mutters. I raise an eyebrow, but before I have time to say anything she's slamming the door in my face. So much for answers. 

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Hey guys! What do you think? This is dedicated to the lovely @fuckxup because they needed an update. Thanks so much for the positive feedback! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! ~B