it makes me wonder ~ larry stylinson [book 1]

thirteen

A/N: If you've read all of my stories, you're in for quite a bit of semi-trippy, very weird deja vu here. 
Actually, if you've read any one of my stories other than this one, you'll be in for at least a little deja vu. But, if you've read all of them, it's a significantly larger amount of deja vu, because...well, you'll see yourself :)
If you haven't read any, though, it might get kind of weird at one point. Sorry in advance!!
AND YES OKAY I KNOW THIS IS SUPER SUPER SHORT BUT I HAD TO POST SOMETHING TONIGHT, I JUST FELT LIKE I HAD TO, I REALLY REALLY WANTED TO UPDATE AND THIS IS A PIVOTAL CHAPTER.
I'm exhausted and I'm going to go ahead and collapse into bed now, so, hope you like this! Comment if you can with your thoughts! xxxx

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"Louis? Louis Tomlinson?"

"Really?"

"But...but why?"

"That's not right, it can't be."

"You must've heard wrong! Look at him!"

The whispers are everywhere as Louis walks through crowds of people in the locker hall, making sure to keep his head down. Zayn's tugging him along by the arm, glaring at anyone who dares to so much as look at Louis.

"Zayn," Louis hisses under his breath, "Why are they all talking about this, about me and Harry? We're partners for a project, for fuck's sake."

"I don't know," Zayn mutters back, "But whatever the reason is, it's a damn stupid one. C'mon, keep your head up, Lou. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Louis glances up, and sees eyes everywhere; so many eyes, all on him. Every single person he walks by is looking straight at him. He ducks his head down again, focusing on the movement of his feet. Left foot forward, right foot forward, left, right.

"God, fuck, I don't understand this," he mutters again. This time, though, he doesn't get a response back. 

Louis pouts, suddenly realizing that there is a lack of warmth on his right arm, and he looks up to see that Zayn's not tugging him down the hall anymore -- Zayn's not there at all, actually. 

Louis stops in his tracks. "Zayn?"

Nothing. All he gets in response are more hushed whispers, and more intent glares. 

He takes a deep breath and continues serpentining down the hallway, and when he reaches his locker, he is pleasantly surprised. 

There, leaning on the wall of lockers next to Louis's own -- similar to that one day, when Harry walked him to class for the first time -- is Harry, bottom lip pulled into his mouth and staring at his feet. 

"Haz!" Louis calls out, and Harry looks up suddenly -- only, his eyes aren't bright and happy, and he's not wearing that signature goofy grin of his. He looks upset, and -- and kind of angry, actually. 

Louis's heart picks up, and he's suddenly gotten the feeling that there's a massive brick in his stomach, weighing him down. He slowly walks over to his locker and twists it open, glancing at Harry the whole time. "Hi?"

Harry nods in response, but doesn't say anything. 

Louis pauses for a few seconds, completely disregarding his open locker in favor of turning toward Harry and leaning against the wall of lockers himself. "Something wrong?"

Harry sighs, pushing himself off the wall and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, um." He scratches his nose. "There is, actually."

Louis swallows thickly. "Oh," he says quietly, trying to keep his voice steady and casual. "What happened?"

Harry licks his lips, and then looks Louis directly in the eye for the first time throughout this entire exchange. They're barren. "I don't -- I don't think we can. Um. I don't really...want...to do the project with you anymore."