Bloodsport

Chapter 2

The following Monday they made the decision to split up the practices. They had spent an hour shouting over each other, and the boys of the team had looked like they wanted to rather die or sit through algebra than suffer through it. It was all Louis’ fault, naturally. The boy couldn’t let Harry decide anything on his own, he didn’t even let him handle the warm-up. Coach accepted Harry’s request that day, perhaps realising that dipping a toe in might be better than diving in headfirst, and Louis seemed to find it beneficial enough to agree.
The following month was pure purgatory. Louis dictated his practices as if he were the king of the jungle, and Harry made certain he suffered for it later during his own sessions. Louis began sending out emails as they hit September, describing each of the exercises he wanted the team to go through over the next month. When he even began scheduling Harry’s training sessions without consultation, Harry made a WhatsApp group for the team that didn’t include Louis, solely for the purpose of making fun of the emails. Naturally, it took two days before Louis found out and Harry was forced to delete it to follow the non-bullying guidelines of the school. Louis only seemed to take it as a win, but it didn’t stop him from sending out more emails. He just didn’t care that the whole team despised it.

On a Sunday, Harry was slouching on the sofa in the family room of his house, a rerun of a documentary on the telly. He had just received a group email from Louis, giving unwarranted advice on dieting.

Food examples:
Breakfast: Banana, egg whites, almonds, protein shake of choice
Lunch: Chicken, rice, kidney beans, or fish
Dinner: veggies, salmon, avocado
Snack: you wish guys. Pizza is cool though. Sometimes.

Louis was overcompensating in his role as co-captain. It was sort of funny in a way, watching how eager he was to be in charge. Perhaps part of Harry should have worried that Coach would see Louis’ ambition and find Harry slacking in comparison, but he knew half of the shit Louis pulled was solely ridiculous.

Just stop it man, someone retorted within an instant to the email.

Get a life, someone else wrote.

You guys will suffer tomorrow, Louis wrote back.

Harry was certain the guy meant it. He seemed serious about fitness, and Harry had of course seen him without clothes many times over the years. He wasn’t blind, either. Objectively, Louis was fit. And not just physically in shape. For someone who was so stupidly annoying, he was gorgeous. Harry had noticed he was cute when they were fifteen, but as Louis was hitting eighteen, he was suddenly something different. Deep blue eyes, soft caramel brown hair that still looked like a mad haystack after a match, and a pair of really delectable, tanned muscular legs. Harry could admit to thinking about Louis. He could admit to wondering if there was a chance he was into guys. Of course, he’d seen him snog a girl once at a party, and maybe he was just projecting. Truth was, Harry had considered that very question for a long time when it came to himself. It wasn’t until last year, that he became certain of it. It hadn’t been a process he’d enjoyed, but at least he knew himself better now.

As if to emphasise the thought, another message lit up his phone. This one filled his body with anxiety. His fingers turned to stone as his eyes combed over the words on the screen.

We need to talk, Harry. You have to talk to me.

He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to forget her face. Sometimes he wished she’d never existed in the first place, and sometimes he wanted to just run away. Most of all, he wanted to be free of this. However, he knew the only way to be free was to tell the truth.

As his mum walked by the sofa, passing through the room towards the kitchen, he sat up, considering. If he told her, maybe he wouldn’t have to be so frightened. If only one other person knew, he would feel better, and his former friend wouldn’t have such a hold over him.