Bloodsport

chapter 67

Harry spent the weekend at Zayn’s house. In his room. He hardly left it.
Walking away from Louis was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

His legs had taken him around the corner of Louis’ block where he’d opened the door to Liam’s grey MINI Cooper and sat down in the backseat. There, he’d crossed his arms over his face and pressed it to his knees. His friends, sitting in the front, had understood.

Zayn brought him food, put on movies, and offered weed. Liam came over and played video games while Harry stared, eyes following the motions on the screen without registering what was actually happening.

“You’ll be okay, eventually,” Zayn promised.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to not love him anymore.”

“It’s going to take some time.”

Harry didn’t want it to take time. He couldn’t handle knowing that Louis loved him back, but refused to have a relationship with him. Louis pushed things away before he could lose them. Even him.

For Harry it was different. If he’d have to stay in Doncaster when Louis was going to leave, then he’d still want him. He’d want him in any way he could, and if Louis came back tomorrow, changing his mind, Harry would take him back so quickly. Even though he knew he had issues trusting the future. Even though he was an unbeliever. They’d always fought against each other, but fighting side by side, on the same team, Harry knew they’d win. Easily. It was only getting Louis to realise it that was the difficult part.

Perhaps Louis simply disagreed.

Harry stared at the video games, felt Liam’s supportive hand on his leg once in a while, and decided he wasn’t going to cry anymore. He was too emotional. Had been since a kid… Still, burning tears slid out the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut against the pillow. He felt Zayn’s kiss on his head and his careful rub at his upper arm, but he didn’t feel better. Not at all.

It was going to take time.

It was hard to get out of bed and go to school. It was the last football practice with the team that day, though, and he had to be there. He wanted to be there, to say goodbye to his lads, and have one last hour with Coach Abrahams as his football coach. He was going to miss them too much.

He knew Louis was going to be there. Facing him again wouldn’t be easy, but Zayn said maybe he could find some closure in it.

He dressed in black jeans and a loose t-shirt. He put sunshades over his red-edged eyes. It was warm out; May brought sun and tepid wind.

At school, Zayn remained by his side almost the whole day. Since the final exams had passed, classes felt pointless. Harry was only there because Zayn told him not to stay in bed.

That morning, he considered dropping Manchester. He would be able to stay in Doncaster with Louis. They could be happy together. Still, the consideration was feeble. He knew that he couldn’t give up his dreams for a guy. It wasn’t fair, not to him and not to Louis.

It wasn’t a question for a nineteen-year-old to face — choosing between love and a lifelong dream. It was a choice for adults. And in the end, he had to make the adult decision. Just like his parents. The only true choice was doing what was right for you. It just didn’t seem fair. The world wasn’t fair. For a second, he’d had Louis, but not really. Not truly.

The whole day he dreaded football training just as much as he looked forward to it. Walking to the locker room, bag strapped across his chest, he felt torn. He’d probably not make this walk again, and though he relished in the feeling of it, he also couldn’t help despising it.