Locker 17

Chapter 12

*Louis' POV*

"Yeah, maybe."

Harry says softly as he walks out of my room. He probably thinks I didn't hear him but I did. The door is closed as he steps out. Something gives me the impression he doesn't want to talk about it but I'm not just going to let it slip. I walk to my neatly done bed. The fact that he did my bed because I wasn't able to is just so embarrassing. I lay down and take out my phone, zero messages. What am I supposed to do this weekend? Last weekend was boring enough, this weekend can't be just as boring.

"Louis?"

I hear a knock at my bedroom door followed by what sounds like Harry's voice. I stand up to go open it and I stand correctly.

"I thought you left already?"

"Well I was about to but I figured that maybe you should text me sometime, just in case you're bored. When I first moved here that's kinda how every weekend was, just laying in bed doing nothing."

It's almost like Harry is reading my mind.

"Yeah it's pretty boring."

My attempt at trying to seem cool is lame. He laughs and slides his hand inside the front pocket of his jeans. His jeans are way too tight by the way he struggles to take out his phone. I had never really noticed how big his hands were until now.

"Here."

He smiles and hands me his phone so I can put down my number. I look down at the phone, it's an iPhone of course. I decide to take out my phone so he can put his number down as well.

"There."

I try my best to keep the conversation short when I hear his mum calling him from the driveway.

"Thanks I'll text you when I get home. If you need anything just give me a call or text or whatever."

The way he shakes his head when he can't find the right words to say amuses me. He walks back down the stairs and leaves my house. That was unexpected.

Twenty minutes pass by and he still hasn't text me. What if he wants me to text him first? But then I'll sound desperate and I don't want to annoy him. I brush my fingers through my hair, a habit I'm starting to pick up from Harry, as I walk back to my bed. My backpack that's on the side of my desk catches my attention. Shit. Mrs. Peter's said we had another paper due on Monday. I stand up from my bed and walk to my desk, sitting down on the chair where Harry was previously sat down at. The seat is still a bit warm. I open the side drawer and take out a piece of paper and a pen. At least I know what not to write about this time.

A couple hours go by and I'm finally finished with my paper, more like five papers. My head was so into trying to make the essay perfect that I forgot all about Harry. My phone is laying in the middle of my bed. I stand up, my legs now sore from sitting down for too long, and walk to retrieve it. I press the home button to see if anything shows up on the screen. One missed call, and one message from Harry. I hurry and unlock it to try to call Harry and text him. I do both but he doesn't respond to my text or answer my call. I look back at the time he called and the time he sent the text. The text was right after I started working on my paper, the call was just an hour ago. This is what happens for keeping my phone on silent. Fucking shit. I sit down on my bed and throw my head back against the head board. Why, why didn't I check when I could. Then again I can't put him in front of my school work. I'm so close to getting a scholarship, so close. I've maintained a perfect grade point average throughout my high school years, I won't let anyone change that not even a homophobic teacher. I start to doze of and fall asleep without knowing it.