Bloodsport

chapter 43

“What?” Harry frowned, staring across the Range Rover at Zayn. They were leaning against the car in the parking lot, waiting for the next class after lunch. Zayn was smoking, and Harry had just made sure he’d packed all of his football gear that morning, and not forgotten anything in Louis’ room.
“He literally knocked his shoulder into mine.” Zayn was explaining the text message Harry had received the other day, about Louis. “I have a bruise. He’s fucking strong, mate. You wouldn’t expect that.”

Harry watched his friend smoke, considering. So, Zayn had walked into the bathroom at school and met Louis, who’d looked upset, and on his way out had knocked his shoulder into Zayn’s. Who now had a bruise.

“He’s pretty strong, yeah,” Harry agreed, remembering his own surprise the first time he’d realised.

“Do you think he’s upset that I’m friends with Niall?”

Harry squinted, looking up. “Why are you friends with Niall?”

Zayn shrugged, walking around the hood of the car and settling by Harry’s side. “He buys my weed.”

Harry raised an unimpressed brow. Really?

He shoved him in the arm. “Do you have a problem with Niall?”

“No…”

Zayn rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Harry’s childishness. “Good.”

“All right. Be friends with him then. What’s it to me?” He crossed his arms.

His friend laughed softly. “You’re such a child sometimes.”

“I just don’t get what’s the big deal. Niall this, Niall that.”

Louis really was upset about losing his friend. Understandable. Still, enough to have given Zayn a freaking bruise from walking into him. Even Zayn seemed infatuated with Niall in one way or another. What was so special about him? Harry had no idea.

“He’s a good mate, a genuine lad. Kind of like Liam, but different.”

“At least Liam doesn’t abandon his friends.”

Zayn narrowed his eyes. “Now you’re just petty.”

Harry stared at the parking lot for a short moment. Fine. “Yes. I am. Also, you’re my best mate, and don’t you fucking forget it.” He ended the sentence with a shove at Zayn, who laughed, making Harry grin despite himself.

“Let’s go to class. You weirdo.”

It was Friday, and the quarterfinal of the championship had arrived. Harry had been excited all day, and couldn’t wait for the evening to arrive. He’d pressed his forehead to the back of Louis’ shoulder that morning, palms resting over his naked stomach, wondering if match days were his favourite days of the month, too. There were so many things he wanted to ask him, a plethora of matters he needed understanding of. Some things he knew; Louis’ favourite food was pizza, he preferred Messi over Ronaldo, he despised early mornings, and he liked to press his thumbs into Harry’s sides, right above his hips but below his ribs, when they kissed. But there were other things… Harry wanted to know everything. Like, how close he was to his mother, what happened with his dad, and what was so special about Niall freaking Horan. And by the way, who the fuck was Greg? Harry still had zero clue.

“Maybe I should switch you for Liam,” said Harry as they walked into the classroom after Zayn had waved to Niall across the hallway moments before.

“Harry, please.”

Liam was already sitting at a desk, dressed in a crewneck and jeans, and his books were ready on the table. Harry flung his arms around Liam’s shoulders from behind and patted his firm chest. “Hi, friend.” He leered at Zayn and subsequently slid into the empty chair.