Bloodsport

chapter 28

The following week was depressing. Harry came home the evening after the fight, and though his car keys and phone had been placed atop his school bag, Harry refused to touch them. He wondered if one of his parents had received a stroke of guilt and returned them, and in that case, it was probably his father. His mother was still upset. Each time he left the house, her gaze was following him down the road, and every time he came back home, she was waiting for him. She seemed to refuse to leave the house, perpetually checking when he came and went. It was exhausting.
“Stop trying to control me,” he told her once.

“Just tell me who the girl is, Harry,” she retorted. “I don’t understand why you must hide it.”

Because I’m gay, he wanted to scream at her. Didn’t she realise how much it hurt, not being able to give her an answer that she’d like?

Sometimes he wanted her to feel the same pain, because maybe then she’d stop asking him to be something he wasn’t. Slowly, he realised that a small portion of the indifference he had felt that afternoon of the fight still existed inside him. Sometimes he wanted to tell the truth just to shock her. Sometimes he thought it would be more satisfactory to tell her simply to hurt her, rather than actually being free of the secrets.

Two days after the family discussion, he took his phone back. He needed it in order to talk to Louis, and when he would be heading down to Chelsea it was vital. He left the car keys alone, though. He didn’t need their bribery.

After football one day, Liam saw him walking along the pavement, heading home. Louis was already gone, having sped off with a bit of haste, and Harry had popped his earphones in, listing to a footie podcast as he walked. Liam pulled up alongside the curb in his grey MINI Cooper. “No Rover today?”

“Um… oil change,” Harry lied.

“Need a ride?”

“Sure,” he agreed, and Liam slung the door open. Harry settled in as they sped down the street. The car smelled fresh, but faintly sweet. There was a large hair clip sitting in the cupholder, and a pair of small sneakers rested on the floor in the front seat. Liam’s football gear was on the floor in the back.

“Sorry,” he murmured as Harry gently moved the sneakers to fit his feet on the floor. “Soph’s.”

“S’fine.” Harry glanced around the car briefly, a little intrigued by the traces of her around them. There were little signs of their relationship here and there. “Things all right with you two?”

“It’s pretty good, actually?” He sounded a little surprised, but delighted nonetheless. “I didn’t think we’d ever get together after all this time, you know? But here we are.”

Harry smiled. “Have you liked her for a long time then?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think I love her already, and we’ve hardly been together six months.” He shook his head, chuckling.

Harry didn’t know Liam that well, but he was easy to talk to. Somehow, he expected Liam to be genuine, even though he’d personally lied only a few minutes ago. Liam was simply good like that. Maybe it was why everyone liked him so much.

“Does she love you, too?” Harry asked, his smile fading as something odd gurgled in his stomach.

The grin on Liam’s mouth reached all over his face, even broadcasted in his thick brows. “She told me a week ago. How crazy is that?”

“Not crazy. Sweet,” he replied determinedly. “Are you happy?”

“It’s kind of… What is being happy, you know? How can you know what that really is? But I think, yeah.”