Magnolia in May [H.S]

Part four

Harry

— -

Heart-shaped kisses. Orange traffic lights on a foggy morning. A faded glare residing in a puddle.

The sun beamed through my car windows, contracting off my sunnies. Glistening tepidly within the treeline, every windy turn molding to its grace. My free foot taps to the beat of the song, the tattoos on my arm glistened outside the window. With a crispy midday breeze tilting the skin on my waving arm, wafting effortlessly on my immersed body. Eleanor Rigby blasts out of the shitty grain of the speakers, leaving a trail of the acoustic guitar behind me.
"All the lonely people, where do they all come from?"

With the familiar sight of the rink, I lower the music, rolling up my windows and parking in my usual spot. Right in the back, where no one can bother me or my car.
The door to my vehicle slams and my black vans land on the puddle resulting from melted snow.

Another day, another skate. It was out of the ordinary; me coming here on a Monday. But I have to admit, this was just my excuse for flaking on Rory. After the game on Friday night, I didn't feel like talking to him. Not because I was mad, but because I knew he'd see right through my act. He'd know that I was lying to him about feeling okay, physically, and mentally. And that what happened on the rink flared up emotions I wanted to stay in the depths of my mind. Reading me like some grade-school level book.

It was stupid of me to think there wasn't a chance I'd run into him here, but considering he complains about practice other days it's not very high. Just a burnout that was forced by his parents to partake in a sport, then it turned out he was actually good at it.

My jersey hangs off my body, without its padding it's about one size too big so I drown in the fabric. With the cease of soldering winds my curls are out in the open, wild like a lion's mane. I try and brush down the pieces sticking up on the sides but just like me, they don't listen. Because of my lack of knowledge of taking care of my hair, I usually throw it in a beanie or snapback but since it was fucking warm I left them at home.

The sunnies on my face darken when I arrive inside the lobby, I walk past the checking and go straight for the lockers.

Instantly chatter fills my ears, I ignore the loud chit chat and throw my bag into one of the steel gray lockers. Grabbing my skates and hockey gear out.

"Hey styles!" One of the voices shouted from afar. Fuck sake.

"Where were you on Monday? I haven't seen you since Friday. What's up? Rory said you got caught up." Ah, Infamous intelligently lacking Cliff.

"Hey, Cliff. Yeah, well uh... Just mundane family stuff I had to deal with.." My voice stays monotone and my attention is set on my locker. Like a reflex my hand goes to the compartment where my water bottle usually is, internally I groan at myself when I realize I forgot to bring it.

"Oh, I thought you didn't really have much family.." He scratches his head, red ginger hair peeking out of his blue snapback.
"Yeah...I don't." I mumble, starting to collect my things. Unnoticeably frustrates by his lack of social cues.

"Anyways we were just about to hit the ice, wanna join?" He props against another locker, his smirk broiling on his face. Pressing me further to clench my jaw as if a knife is thrust into my chest.

"I'm gonna have to pass... Coach said I should just be doing runs... you know since what happened last game... I needa rest it..." My demeanor keeps itself even though I'd love to send my fist into his jaw. Nothing less than a purple bruise to match mine. At least this time it'll be a fair fight.