Growing Pains

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About ten minutes later, Louis' beaten up car pulls up to the curb. He reaches over and pushed the passenger door open for me. I slid in and shut the door behind me. Louis's car had a distinct smell of a leather air freshener and fast-food...believe it or not, it is not a good combination. Every time I get into this car, I pull the pine tree air freshener from its spot and shove it in the center console. A pine tree that smells like leather...that doesn't make any sense.

If you didn't know better, you'd think Harry and Louis would get along just fine. They look like the same type of people. Piercings, tattoos, they both go to parties and get drunk. I know that not every person who looks like another is going to know and like that other person. But considering, Louis and Harry ran in the same circles and had some mutual friends--you would think that they at least would get along. Nope! Not in a million years.

Louis is very different from Harry, though. For more than one reason, but mainly he's not a dick. At least, most of the time he isn't. Don't misunderstand me I love Harry, he is my best friend and I cannot imagine life without him, but damn does he get on my nerves. Once when Louis came over, Harry was at my house watching a football game. Harry stormed out immediately, yelling at me for letting Louis come over. Louis just stood there, arms crossed smugly, amused at Harry's anger. Very typical. I had to call Harry later and explain Louis' and my parents were engaged...and that did not go over well. I guess I should have told him that our parents had been seeing each other, but that had slipped my mind...not really, I knew he would react that way.

"What's up his ass this time?" Louis asks me as he drives away from the curb. I roll my eyes.

"Harry is just...ugh!" I say, looking out the window. I cross my arms over my chest in frustration.

"Finally you listen to me. I've told you, he's a dick. You best stay away from him."

I turn to look at Louis. "I know, but he is my best friend. He needs me," I say.

"To what? Clean up the blanket of vomit that coats his house every weekend?"

I wrinkle my nose. "Quite the vivid picture you paint there," I say.

He shrugs. "Am I not accurate?"

"No, you are," I say. "But I just ate a lot of Sal's pizza and I do not need a reminder of what I had to wash this morning... I already wanted a shower."

"You know he just uses you," Louis says.

"He doesn't," I tell him firmly. "Okay, he does a little."

"See Blair!" Louis tells me.

"Who cares," I tell him. "He is my best friend, you know that. He is like family."

"Would family treat you like this?" Louis asks.

I ignore his question, "No matter how much he pisses me off, I will always be there for him."

"But Blair will he be there for you?" Louis questions.

"He already has proved that."

Louis is silent now, running a hand through his hair as he pulls into our driveway. "Just be careful, Blair."

"I will," I smile. Louis may not be a brother by blood, but he sure as hell has stepped into that role.

"He'll hurt you, and I am worried that I won't be able to protect you."

"God, what is it with you two? You constantly rag on each other." I exclaim.

"He talks about me?" Louis' hands grip the steering wheel. His knuckles go white.

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