Falling Fast - L.S

21 - part one

After about an hour, Harry's mum suggested he should walk me down to the bus stop. While he went to the bathroom, she drew me to one side.

"I'm glad he's seeing you," she smiled.

I smiled shyly back at her.

She sighed. "He works so hard and makes out he's so tough. And God help if you suggest that he might now be able to make it all on his own, but underneath there's a part of him that's hurting. You know?"

I nodded, swallowing.

"And that hurting makes him angry. Every time he goes out I worry he'll do something stupid. You know, give out to someone who upsets him or get in a fight. She rolled her eyes.

"When I saw his face after that thing with you and your friend..." She put her hand on my arm. "Not that I'm saying he was wrong to step in. But sometimes it isn't the right thing to do. Sometimes it's better to walk away. And I worry he won't know how, and then... and then all his big dreams'll come crashing down and..."

Harry appeared from the bathroom.

"Ready?" he said.

"Sure." I looked at his mum.

"Bye, Louis," she said. "Look after yourself - and my baby boy. All right?"

~

That day changed everything between me and Harry. I felt closer to him than ever. And yet... I felt he was pushing me over sex in that intense way he did everything. It wasn't that I didn't want to do it. I did. I really did. But I didn't want to rush it.

Part of me wished I could be like Taylor. To her, sex was just another thing - an ordinary, everyday thing. But to me - with Harry - it had to be perfect.

We met that weekend, on Sunday, and spent the whole afternoon on our own in the park. It was so cold we could see our breath in front of our faces.

Harry had swallowed his pride and brought the jacket his mum had bought him four 5 pounds. It was pretty disgusting - fake leather with a thick grey lining. He didn't put it on until we were completely out of sight of any other people. Then he wrapped it round both of us and we kissed for hours.

Kissed and talked. About his family. About his dad. About the times his dad had turned up drunk at the flat - or followed Harry and Gemma after school - or threatened Anne where she worked. I held him tightly, knowing that he'd never told anyone any of these things before.

We talked about the play. I was nervous about having an audience. He wasn't. There were just a couple more days of rehearsals, then the dress rehearsal on Wednesday, with the performances on the Thursday and Friday.

We talked about doing it, too. Well, I did. I had to. It was dark and we'd done down the part of the park that was furthest from the road. A disused stone fountain stood in the middle of a little square, surrounded by four park benches.

We lay down on one of the beaches and kissed and touched. Harry told me again that he wanted to make love. I said I wanted to wait.

"But why?" The curly hair boy groaned, pressing against me. "It's the right thing to do," he kept saying. "The next thing. The only thing."

I couldn't see it like that. I wanted him. But I wanted more time, too. In the end I just told him I just wanted to wait until the play was over. He accepted that, and we wandered home, our arms wrapped round each other.

I told myself I was blissfully happy, but in a tiny corner of my brain this little voice was saying, Why's it going to be different after the play, Louis? What's going to have changed in five days?

~

The next few days were really busy. Mr Nichols was in a terrible mood - he spent most of Monday's rehearsal shouting at anyone who forgot their lines or laughed in the wrong place.

I could see Harry on the verge of losing it. Of just walking out on the whole thing. But he somehow managed to keep his temper in check.

I knew he was going through his scenes on autopilot - partly because his lines lacked the same level of feeling I'd seen before and partly because it was so obvious what was really on his mind whenever he looked at me.

Still, Harry on autopilot was better than most of the other actors in the play put together.

To be honest, I felt quite sorry for Mr Nichols. Apart from Taylor and Harry and Luke, no one really spoke naturally or moved confidently around the stage.

Gigi constantly forgot her lines. Camille remembered hers, but was never standing in the right place. And as for Niall Horan - he seemed to have lost what little confidence he'd once had, and couldn't be heard from a metre in front of the stage, let alone at the back of the assembly hall.

"It seats five hundred people," Mr Nichols roared. "How are they going to hear you IF YOU WHISPER?"

Poor Niall went bright red and did his next scene even quieter.

By Wednesday's dress rehearsal Mr Nichols had started to lose his voice from all the shouting and was staggering around backstage clutching his throat and whispering last-minute directions at anyone who would stand still long enough to listen to them.

I saw him draw Harry and Taylor to one side and my heart sank. I knew he must be telling them it was time to put some real kisses in place.

I asked Taylor, very casually, afterwards what Mr Nichols had said.

"Don't use tongues," she said solemnly.

I stared at her. "What?"

She grinned. "I'm kidding. He said we should just see the kisses as part of the lines - and we should ignore anyone who laughs."

During the dress rehearsal, I stood in the wings, anxiously watching the scene in which Romeo and Juliet meet. Despite what Harry said I knew he was a little nervous. It was making him act better. He was speaking with real feeling.

As Taylor fluttered out, it struck me how well suited they were. Attractive. Charismatic. Massively up for sex. I'd had those thoughts before, of course, but right now it was particularly hard to see them, all dressed up in their elegant costumes, circling round each other.

My mind went back to that first rehearsal, when Harry and I had answered all Mr Nichols' questions about what Romeo and Juliet's lines meant. These were our lines, I thought jealously.

I stood, hidden by the curtains, waiting for the kiss. I was so intent on the scene in front of me I didn't notice the other people gathering until two of the girls with non-speaking parts from the year below me at school started whispering behind me.

"Will they kiss each other for real?" one of them hissed.

"Course," the other one replied. "Harry will, anyway. Look at him - he so fancies her."

"Sssh." The first girl glanced sideways at me and sniggered.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see both girls, hands over their mouths, red-faced, suppressing more giggles as they tried not to look at me.

My whole being burned with humiliation.

On stage, Harry was tracing his fingers down Taylor's face. It was a simple gesture - soft and tender - and one he'd often made with me. His eyes were so full of love, so intense. I could hardly believe he was acting.

My guts seemed to hollow out as he leaned forwards and brushed his lips against hers.

This wasn't supposed to be how it ended. Taylor was supposed to be ill so that I could go on in her place and he would be my Romeo and I would be his Juliet.

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I was planning on updating this in one big chapter but I wanted to update it today as it's the 28th September 2020 💙💚 So this is part 1 of Chapter 21 and the second part will hopefully be up in the next couple days. Love you all and happy 28th Sept 😊😊😊