how you get the boy

sixteen

The flat was too quiet for my own liking.

Louis had been holed up in his room since I returned home from class, which was about thirty minutes ago, and although a part of me wanted to check up on him and see what he's doing, I stayed on the couch and focused on the television in front of me instead.

As much as I hated it, last night's conversation was still fresh in my mind and no matter what I did, Louis' words kept on circulating in my head. Coupled with Harry's words, I found it nearly impossible to focus on anything today.

It'd be a lie to say that I wasn't at all bothered by the fact that for all I knew, I could simply be Louis' rebound even though I hoped that wasn't the truth. He was very upset, after all, when he and Beth broke up – at least that's what Harry told me – and he'd even told me that he would always love her so that should be enough to convince me that he didn't see me the way I wanted him to.

And that, that what put me in a poor mood when I woke up this morning, though initially I blamed it on the lack of sleep; I knew full well that wasn't it. It was the idea of not being good enough for Louis that kept me awake the entire night, the idea that regardless what I did and would do, he could never love me the way he loved Beth. I hated that; hated it with every fibre in my being.

Nonetheless before I could venture deep into the self-hatred harbouring within me, I heard commotion coming from Louis' room. Distracted by the noise, I lowered the volume so I could hear what it was all about. I didn't have to wonder long though because soon, Louis emerged from his room with a massive box in his arms. A box filled with Beth's things.

He struggled with the door as it refused to open wide enough for him to fit through and seeing that the right thing to do was to help him, I heaved myself off of the couch and made my way to him.

"D'you need a hand?" I questioned as I pushed the door for him, to which he shot me a thankful smile before he put down the box in front of the front door. I watched as he kicked the box aside until it met the wall and once he'd done that, he turned to me and kinked an eyebrow.

"Didn't know you're home," he told me as a small smile appeared on his lips, "Thought you had class till 5?"

"Yeah, but class got cancelled so here I am," I shrugged, my hands drifting to the front pocket of my jeans. An 'oh' slipped past his lips and I looked over his shoulder where the box was on the floor like he was ready to throw them out. I doubted he'd do that. "Beth's?"

He glanced over his shoulder and nodded his head, "Yup. I'm meeting her this evening."

A major part of me wanted to say that I wasn't surprised that Louis had arranged a meeting with Beth so she could pick her things up from him, but I was. Mainly because I'd originally assumed that he would throw her things away instead of keeping them in a box and returning it to the owner because she asked for them.

"I think we need to talk about last night," Louis mentioned next after he'd cleared his throat and rubbed his palms together. "I mean, if you want to, that is."

I didn't want to, but I found myself nodding my head and following him to the living room where the television was still on. Louis grabbed the remote control and lowered the volume, then swivelled his body until he was facing me. I swallowed the lump in my throat, wishing that I hadn't agreed to this, but alas I had.

"So, I know I told you that I'll always love Beth," he began, his eyes scanning my face and I tried my hardest not to look away. People always talked about how you could see so much in someone's eyes and I didn't want him to see anything. At the same time, I didn't want to cower away from his gaze even though his words stung. "And I didn't realise it until this morning that you might take that as something else entirely; you might think that I see you as a rebound."