Show Me 2 - Remember Me (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter Forty One - Say Something

Say something, I'm giving up on you.

I'll be the one, if you want me to.

Anywhere, I would've followed you.

Say something, I'm giving up on you.

- "Say Something", A Great Big World

....

When Harry and I reached the school the next day, there was yet another memorial of Zayn smack dab in the front, right next to the statue of Howard A. Fields, the school's founder. It was filled with flowers, soccer jerseys, and "We'll Miss You" cards that were probably bought for ninety nine cents each. I stared fiercely at it, noticing with a jolt that the flowers were plastic. Who in god's name was in charge of this thing?

"What's the matter?" Harry asked me, parking the car and trying to follow where my stare was.

"Look at that memorial," I snapped, stepping out of the car as the cold smacked me in the face. "It's tacky and fake, just like everyone else at this school. Zayn didn't even play soccer."

Harry snorted once without humor. "Sick, isn't it?"

I marched straight over to the memorial, looking at the plastic flower stems and at the old jerseys that the school didn't even use anymore. No one here knew shit about Zayn, nor cared, and that reflected here. They just wanted to slap together some memorial that was pulled out of someone's ass to feel better about the guilt of Zayn's death that weighed on everyone's shoulders.

There was already a crushed can of Sunkist that someone had tossed on the ground right next to it. Fighting the tears prickling behind my lids, I snatched up the can and put in the trash.

Harry just wrapped an arm around me, leaning down to kiss me on my forehead. "I'm sorry, angel. I wish I knew what I could do."

"Thank you," I said.

We continued walking in silence, Harry leading me to the athletic building, and on the soccer fields, it was completely empty besides Niall, furiously kicking a line of balls to the net. His face was blood red, as he aggressively ran up and down the barren field. He was dressed down in his uniform as well.

"Harry," I whispered.

"Go on, talk to him." Harry nodded me towards Niall, as he stuck a cigarette between his lips. "I'll be here."

I stood on my toes to quickly kiss him on the cheek, and jammed my hands in my pockets. Niall continued dribbling a soccer ball down the length of the field, his face scrunched up in concentration.

"Niall!" I called. He ignored me. I dashed near where he was, but his eyes were still on his feet. He tried kicking the ball he was working on, but his foot missed and he landed painfully on his back. He jumped up as if nothing happened, but his cheeks were blood red.

"Niall," I said again, and his head snapped up to meet me. When we locked eyes, I realized tears were steadily falling from his eyes. "What?" he whispered.

"Talk to me," I said.

"What, Ali?" he practically screamed. "What should I talk to you about? About the fact that I found my best friend's body after he fucking killed himself and I have a giant soccer game tonight, and a college scout is coming to watch me cause I'm the fucking captain? And I'm supposed to be playing my god damn best and I keep waiting for Zayn to show up and watch me, and I know he never will again? Do you want me to tell you that I keep seeing his face behind my lids and I haven't scored one goal all morning and I keep screwing up my dribbles? Is that what you want me to talk to you about?"