Mr. Coach (Larry)

Chapter 11

"We're here! So, you and your partner can go and pick out a spot that you want and you can start pitching your tents!" Mr. Cowell instructs as we come up on a wide open field surrounded by trees. There were a few picnic tables here and there. It had taken a good 5 minutes to hick over here, thankfully I was used to walking, unlike some of the other staff members who only walked to the vending machine and back. 

"So, we'll use my tent," Harry asks. We had walked together in silence the whole time. I couldn't help but notice how much Harry had brought. It was like full on camping gear. I wouldn't be surprised if he had all sorts of useful gadgets hidden somewhere in that huge bag of his. 

"Sure, mine is kind of old. It's been a while since I've properly camped," I admit, as I set my stuff on the ground. Harry pulls out the bag that held his tent. 

We were the first ones done. It was almost like we had rehearsed putting the tent together, like we had a silent agreement of who would do which parts and we just did it. A perfect team. It wasn't like our tent was small either, it was actually pretty big, it had enough space to hold both sleeping bags, all of our stuff, and even have enough room to walk around. 

It was close to nine at night when everyone had finished pitching their tents. We left the school close to seven and it was a two-hour drive to the campsite. 

"You guys can go ahead and have some down time. It's a little to late to be wondering around and it's going to be an early morning tomorrow. I suggest getting to know your partner a little more maybe," Mr. Cowell suggests as he heads into his own tent. Harry and I both shrug as we head into our tent. I take a seat on my sleeping bag and Harry on his. 

"Harry, can I ask you a personal question," I ask. Harry gives a short nod and I continue. Trying to piece together my thoughts before I start speaking. 

"You said that we were good friends in high school. How close were we? I mean, I just hate not knowing about my own life and I feel that I can ask you these things for some reason," I blabber. Harry silences me and thinks for a moment before responding. 

"We were so close that I knew everything about you, from your favorite color to your pants size. We were so close that I called your mother my mother and that I would stay at your house for weeks on end. I knew everything about you and you knew everything about me. Zayn, you, and I...we were the dream team. A strange mix, to say the least, but a team at that," He explains. I wish I could remember it, but I just couldn't. I wanted to remember all those things, the times that we spent together, but my thoughts were a hazy mix of dream and reality. 

"We can play 20 questions. I know it sounds childish. But I want to know more about you, so maybe we can be as close as we used to be. To make things interesting, how about I ask you a question and you answer for you and for me to see if you still remember everything. If you get all of them right, you'll get a special prize," I explain. Harry nods. 

"In high school what was your dream job," I ask, Harry smiles at me, not thinking at all before answering. 

"Mine was a math teacher and you wanted to be a famous soccer player." I give him a small nod, telling him that he was right. 

So it went one. It came to the last question and Harry had gotten all of the questions right. He wasn't lying when we said that we were close. 

"Last question: do you like me more than a super-awesome best friend," I question, trying to keep the mood light while asking a question that was far from it. Harry gulps, looking down at his long, lanky fingers. 

"I do, I don't know about you. Maybe in high school I would've said yes, but times and thoughts have changed since then," He sighs. I don't want him to give up. He knew everything about me and he should at least be able to figure this last one out. I mean he knew my mother's maiden name for god's sake. 

"What do you do when your student's don't know an answer?" 

"I tell them to pick the answer that makes the most sense." 

"Sometimes, Harry, you need to take your own advice. Think about everything that has happened over the last couple weeks and piece together an answer that makes the most sense," I explain.

"I think, maybe you do," He sighs. I smile, knowing that he had gotten the right answer. He looks up at me, and smiles. "Was I right?" 

I scout closer to him, so close that our lips were nearly touching. "Yeah, you did, congratulations, you know me better than I do," I whisper as I press my lips to his. 

Like before, my hands knew how to work his body like they had been here before. Almost as if this were a familiar lay out to them. His hands go to my hair and pull me in harder as my hands seem to fit in his hips. We kiss for god knows how long before I pull away, out of breath. 

"What was that supposed to mean," Harry huffs, his eyes drifting from my eyes to my lips. I move my hands to the back of his neck and hold him still. 

"Me asking you to my boyfriend. What did it mean to you," I ask. 

"Me saying yes," He answers as he molds our lips together again.