New Guy on the Street (Larry)

Chapter Seven: Pizzas and Sleepovers Don't Always Help

"You're so stupid if you think that's true," Louis argues.


"It is true." He rolls his eyes.

"Captain Crunch is way better than Tony the Tiger." I scowl at him which only makes him shoot me a grin.

"No he isn't! Tony the Tiger could eat Captain Crunch!" I say, knowing I'm right.

"But he's a Captain!" Louis says. He really sounds like a five year old.

"You're stupid! I can't even believe you started this argument!"

"I can't believe you think Tony the Tiger is better than Captain Crunch."

"Just watch the movie," I say, turning back towards the T.V., quite annoyed.

"I don't want to," he says, sounding like a five year old again. I ignore him for as long as I can until I feel something hit the side of my head.

"Did you just throw popcorn at me?" I ask accusingly, even though I know he did it considering the fact we were the only two people in his house. His response is to throw some more. I gape at him as he throws another handful. "I am ten years younger than you, yet I'm still more mature." I dodge a piece this time.

"You're no fun," he huffs. My mouth drops.

"I'm no fun?"

"Pretty much, curls." My eyes roll at him.

"And just how is that?"

"You watch 'Star Wars', you don't like video games," he pauses, "and I'm pretty sure you have never said my name."

"I've said your name." I respond quietly. Actually, I'm not sure if I have said his name or not.

"Say it," he demands.

"What?" I question.

"Say my name. You've never called me by my first name and-"

"That's disrespectful, though." He is making me really nervous for some reason.

"I don't care," he says, annoyed by my stubbornness. "Say it. 'Louis'. It's not that hard." He smirks and crosses his arms as he waits for me to say his name. I don't really get what the big deal is.

"Louis," I breath out, and for the first time realizing how much I like the way his name rolls off of my tongue. Normally, saying someone's first name shouldn't be a big deal, but from the way I was raised, calling an adult by their first name was extremely rude. Plus, he is a teacher which makes it one-thousand times worse. I didn't want to come across as a 'bad kid', even though saying that would make me sound like a baby.

"See? It wasn't that hard," he smile. "I like 'Louis' better than 'Mr. Tomlinson' anyway."

"Me too," I admit. He throws another piece of popcorn at me from across the couch. That's it. I jump up from my seat and tackle him to floor, spilling the entire bowl on the floor in the progress. My body is on top of his and once I've pinned him down, he doesn't fight back. I take it as the perfect time to straddle his waist to keep him down and to scoop up some popcorn. While throwing piece after piece of popcorn on him I ask, "How do you like it?"

"I love it," he says. I freeze and stare at him. He laughs at my blank expression. "You shouldn't have let up. Now you're vulnerable." I don't understand.

"Wha-" I don't even get to finish before Louis flips up over to where he was in the position I was, pinning my wrists down. "Hey! That isn't fair! You distracted me." He just laughs.

"Rule one in the Louis household: Don't get distracted, or you end up underneath me." I gulp at how I perceived that in a dirty way instead of the way Louis intended. He lets go of my wrists and sits back, but still on top of me. "What?" he asks studying my uneasy expression. "I didn't mean it like that." After he says that, I swear I hear him mutter "too much", but I could just be an idiot. He looks around and observes the mess around us. "You're cleaning this up."

"In your wettest and wildest dreams, Mr. Tomlinson," I respond trying to shove him off of me. He rolls off of my body and stands up, brushing himself off before extending a hand to me, which I take.

"That can be arranged," he says as I stand. "And it's 'Louis'." What could be arranged?

"Louis," I correct myself. He smiles back.

"I'm serious though. You're cleaning."

"I have homework."

"I have to cook." We stare at each other blankly.

"Can't you order a pizza?" I ask.

"Can't you take an 'F'?" He responds sarcastically. I glare at him intensely. Finally, he throws his hands up in surrender, "Fine! We'll get a pizza and I'll clean up your mess. You're welcome" I blow a kiss which he 'catches' and 'puts in his pocket', making me blush a bit.

"Thanks Mr- Louis," I say, correcting myself before I called him 'Mr. Tomlinson'. He seems pleased by that, but doesn't let it show for long.

"Yeah, yeah," he responds, waving his hands towards me as he walks into the kitchen, which I assume is to order the pizza. Once he is gone for a bit, I sigh and get up from the couch, picking up the overturned bowl on the floor and kneel down to begin cleaning up the mess. I don't really have homework, I just didn't feel like cleaning up the mess. But, because I made it, I guess I should be the one to clean it up.

I begin to pick up popcorn bits off of the floor. Now, after I spilt the food, I wish I didn't. Popcorn is really hard to clean up. No wonder people who work at movie theaters are so crabby all of the time. The last boy I dated worked at a movie theater. That explains why he was such a bitch.

"You didn't have to pick that up," Louis says to me from out of nowhere. I didn't realize he was standing in the doorway, so he may or may not have scared me a bit. "I was only kidding." I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't really have homework," I admit. Louis just laughs.

"I figured as much," he says while shaking his head. Louis crosses the room and begins to brush popcorn bits off of the sofa and into his hands. "I can vacuum this up later, you know?" he asks me after dumping what was in his hands back into the bowl.

"Okay, Louis," I say. He smiles again. He must really like it when I say his name.

"I ordered a pizza and talked to your mom. She won't be back anytime tonight, she doesn't think." He leans up against the wall with his arms crossed giving me a sad smile. Just recently, I opened up to him about how I wished my mom was around more. He knows I don't like her working so late.

"Why not?" I ask, trying my hardest to not sound upset. It's clear in my voice that I am, though.

"She had to pick up someone's shift. A nurse got sick."

"Oh."

"You're welcome to stay here," he offers.

"That's okay, Mr. Tomlinson," he doesn't even correct me this time. "It's a school night and I gotta shower and whatnot."

"Oh, come on, Harry. It will be fun!" He tries. "You know you want to."

"But it's a school night."

"I can drive you in the morning. And you can wear my clothes. They fit you," he says. Something deep inside of me makes me hate knowing that I can wear an older man's clothes and they fit. I don't it show, though. I'm already sad enough.

"I guess that will be alright. I just don't want to impose. You don't have to let me stay because my mother isn't here. I can stay alone at my house," I say.

"It's fine. I like sleepovers."

"This is not a sleepover, Tomlinson. That's just weird.

"It could be a sleepover. In fact, I will call it that, no matter what you say." I roll my eyes as the doorbell rings. "That's probably the pizza." I get up from my spot on the floor and follow him to the door where the pizza guy is waiting. He opens it and greets the guy, thanks him for the pizza, hands him the money and a tip and shuts the door. We both go to the kitchen where he sits down the pizza and gets two plates and cups. "What do you want to drink?" he turns to me and asks.

'I'll get my water from my backpack," I say walking out of the kitchen door and into the living room, where the bag was waiting. Once I know I'm out of Louis' sight, I slump against the wall and let out a sigh. I haven't seen my mom in three days, I think to myself. Where is she? I don't even register Louis' footsteps coming towards me. Only when I feel him sitting down next to me, I realize he is in the room.

"Harry, your mom is sorry she hasn't seen you, you know?" He asks, turning towards me. "I know that's what you're upset about."

"I wish she didn't have to work all of the time," I say, my voice cracking a bit. "She said this time it would be different. She still works late shifts, dates creeps, and is never home." Louis reaches up and wipes a tear off of my face that I didn't even know I was crying.

"I know, Harry," he sighs. "There's nothing I can do to make your mother be back tonight, and I know its not the same thing, but I'm always here for you." He wraps his arm around me shoulders. I really am glad to have Louis around. He does make the whole thing a bit better.

"Can I call you mom?" I ask with a weak laugh, trying to cheer myself up.

"Sure. Call me Momma Louis," he says. I turn and hug him tightly. He hugs me back even more tightly than I hug him.

"I'm sorry for being such a wimp," I speak into his shirt.

"You're not a wimp." We sit like that for a few more minutes before he speaks up again. "Are you hungry?" No.

"I guess so." I stand up and wipe my eyes a bit and watch as Louis stands up. He bends down and grabs the water bottle out of the side pocket of my backpack and hands it to me. "Thanks," I mumble as I follow him into the kitchen. When I see the table set and pizza already on the plates, I feel bad because now Louis' food is probably cold.

"Eat up," he says to me as he pats my shoulder before siting at his spot at the table. I sit down and pick up a piece of pizza and begin to nibble on it. It's cold. I look up and see Louis staring at me sadly. I really don't want him to have sympathy for me.

"Thanks for the food," I say to him.

"No problem," he says smiling at me. "Eat up."







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A/N: Aww... Poor, poor Harry.

I had something else to say... but I can't remember. Ugh. It will come to me after I post this chapter, I'm sure.

Love,

Charlotte

P.S. I GOT IT! I was gonna say that the beginning of this chapter was stolen from 'The Allen and Craig Show' episode 8 part one by eviliguanaproductions. The funniest thing on this planet I swear... (well, right after my face).