"How's Zayn doing?" Louis touches the subject I've been attempting to avoid.

I continue tightening a loose wheel on my skateboard when answering, "He's officially expelled and feeling the wrath of Mama Malik. I don't feel any kind of sorry for him."

"I don't either. But he's still your friend. You should go and talk to him," Louis suggests. I glance up at him and he's squinting as the blinding sun is baring down on us. It may be getting chilly again, but for some reason the sun is amplified.

I took Louis to the skate-park per request to get him out of his house. He's never been and it's cute to watch him in "white trash" territory. He's already received multiple double takes from everyone who's never seen a footballer approach this area.

"I'd rather not speak to him, honestly. He's probably just going to find a way to blame it on me and demand I fix it."

Louis scoots over a little on the bench to make room for me. I take the weight off my feet and lay my repaired skateboard on the ground and roll it back and forth under my feet. "Do you really think that?"

I scoff. "I know that. 'Mate, I coulda just hid it at your place if you weren't such a bloody stiff'."

"It's not your fault he does drugs,"

"My point exactly. I don't feel like getting yelled at for his pot addiction today. I'll probably go see him tomorrow or something," I say, turning my head to stare at Louis, only to find he's staring at me.

He swiftly looks forward and begins speaking. I smile. "You don't have to, y'know? If he's just going to be an ass about it."

"Yeah, but he's just about the only friend I've got, aside from you and Liam."

Louis looks incredible today. He's in a white v-neck, rolled up blue jeans and a beaten up pair of Vans; simple, but he would manage to make a trash-bag work. I wish I could stay in moments like these; where he's with me and we're talking and nothing else really matters.

"Honestly, why are you even friends with Zayn to begin with? Like, Liam's an alright guy, but Zayn's a dick. I'm not trying to tell you who to hang out with, but you don't have to put up with him if all he is is a jerk to you."

"I know, s'just we've been mates forever. We grew up together, and I don't like who he's become, but I like who he used to be. I guess I'm just holding onto that."

"And I know he pressures you about the drug thing. You guy might've been buddies since birth, but real mates don't try to make each other do detrimental things and then ridicule them about not having the balls to do it or whatever. Peer pressure is for bullies,"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "No offense, but your advice is kind of hypocritical."

"How?" He knits his eyebrows together.

"You've gone through like six girlfriends because of peer pressure to be straight,"

Louis rolls his eyes. In hanging out with him more and getting to know him, I've learned he's incredibly sassy and sardonic. "Okay, but that's not drugs, that's a date. One will ruin your life and the other will just ruin your night."

"I'm just saying, practice what you preach, Tommo," I stand up and wink at him. "Ready to ride?"

Louis gives me an annoyed glare before lifting himself off the bench as well and shaking his head. "Not really, I'm probably going to break an arm."

"With that attitude you will!"

"Shut up, Harry," Louis laughs. "Do I not need a helment?"

"I don't even own a helmet. You're not going down anything steep yet, anyways. I'm just gonna teach you how to ride,"

Louis nods and we amble over to a flat part of the park where the limited beginners congregate. Louis' trying really hard to hide the fact that he's nervous, but I can see through it. I grin to myself and wrap an arm around his shoulder. "You'll do fine, don't look so scared."

Louis turns towards me. It would be so easy to just lean in and press my lips against his. But I fight the urge and bite my lip. "I am not scared, Harold. I just feel oddly out of place."

"Don't," I tell him, patting his back and moving away before I forcibly snog him. "We don't discriminate here."

In beginning his skating lessons we discover that he is truly execrable. It seems like a football player would have more balance but he could not stay on the board. Eventually he just road with both of his hands on my shoulders and mine on his hips.

"We should've just done this from the start; so much easier," Louis chuckles.

"It is pretty easy, with me pushing you and all,"

I flick my eyes up to meet his, and there he is, so close again. Louis' diamond blue eyes lock mine in a gaze again and it's impossible to break free. It's like being trapped in a dream world; everything's so perfect that it makes you want to stay, but you know you can't.

"Yeah," He whispers with a winsome smile. At this point we've sort of slowed down in terms of me dragging him along the smooth concrete. My stomach feels tight and twisted, but in the best way imaginable. "You've got really, really nice eyes, Harry."

My lips curl into a grin as well. "Your's are perfect."

Louis tugs his bottom lip with his tooth, still grinning. I feel I'm floating in some kind of alternate universe where good things actually happen to me. "You're sweet."

"I try," I remark and he laughs a little again. God, he's so gorgeous. How did I even get him to talk to me?

"You don't have to. Now, it's time I learned how to properly do this. Show me how to do the momentum thingy again,"

I snap out of my daze a moment after his reply and start to teach him the basics again. While doing so there was lots of eye-gazing and arm holding. I don't think I've ever felt so content before meeting Louis. I wish I could be his next girlfriend.

"Alright, almost all of your are being annoying, so do this worksheet. I'm tired of talking over you. Work with your row partner," My French teacher says with vexation laced in her tone as she begins handing out papers. I feel sorry; she's such a good teacher, but no one respects her because she's so young. It is, in fact, annoying.

I peer over at my row partner who's sitting in the desk adjacent to mine, and she just so happens to be Louis' girlfriend number four, Leanne. She's giving me a death glare straight from the depths of Hell. I lift an eyebrow. "Alright there?"

"Just shut up and help me with this stupid worksheet, I haven't gotten a clue how to do it."

"Okay then, who peed on your porno magazine?"

Leanne let out an over dramatic sigh. "Can you not be a sarcastic git for ten minutes?"

"I can try," I retort, shaking my head and training my eyes on the worksheet. Before I can open my mouth to talk about French, Leanne unleashes her fiery anger on me.

"What's so special about you, huh? I dated Louis for a week and all he bloody spoke about was you! 'Oh, Harry's so funny, guess what he said', 'I've already been to the place, Harry took me,', 'It's a shame Harry's gay, he'd make a great boyfriend, don't you think?', 'I wish Harry wasn't busy today,', 'Harry, Harry, Harry!'. I swear to God he's queer for you, and I had to listen about it for a week straight. It's like I didn't even exist!"

I try as hard as I possibly can to stifle my smile. "Really?"

"Yes, really! It was so humiliating. There I am, a perfectly good girl and he's just going on and on about a perfectly weird boy. I even wore my best outfit for that dickhead!"

"Wow," I say in awe of the fact that Louis even cared enough about me to mention me to someone. "That sounds dreadful."

"It was. I can't believe he didn't even pay me any attention at all. I looked really cute on our first date, too." Leanne whimpers before the teacher pins her with a Shut the hell up glare. She apologizes and turns her livid eyes to me again, whispering this time. "Why don't you just date him, then? He won't be satisfied with anyone actually useful, so he may as well date white trash like you."

I smile at her. "I guess that's what he deserves after treating you so poorly."

"That's what I'm saying! God, could he be anymore inconsiderate?"

The beginning of a headache enters my skull when I glance down at my phone and see that this class doesn't end for another twenty-five minutes. "Clearly not."

_

"How come you never sit with, like, the football team?" I ask Louis as we lower ourselves into our unofficially claimed bench outside the cafeteria. I notice a lack of Liam across from us, but don't say anything. I never want to endanger a prime opportunity for extra alone time with Louis.

"They go to lunch next period," Louis answers as he struggles with opening a can of Pepsi. He purses his lips and lets out a few grunts before shoving it away and exhaling deeply and spewing a string of swear words.

I chuckle, grabbing it and pretending to have a bit of trouble before popping the tab open. He murmurs a thanks before taking a sip. "Besides," he continues. "If they did have this lunch, I'd still prefer to sit with you. You don't make fun of me for not being able to open this."

"This is true. You might also have to interact with Leanne at some point, and she's mental,"

"Isn't she?" Louis rolls his eyes. "She still texts me sometimes just to rant about how much of an ass I am."

"Just block her number,"

"And miss my entertainment for the day? Please, who needs cable when you've got a crazy ex-girlfriend?"

"Fair enough," I say, grinning at Louis. He's got his fringe gelled back in a quiff and a teal sweatshirt on. It brings out the bright blue in his enticing eyes and I'm entranced. "She told me something interesting, though."

He looks a bit nervous after hearing that. "Yes?"

Trying to remain nonchalant, I twist open my water bottle while elaborating, "She was actually quite mad with me during class because you'd talked about me non-stop instead of noticing her cute outfit or something."

Louis guzzles down the rest of his Pepsi before replying. "Is that right?"

"I dunno, is it?"

Blush colors Louis' cheeks. I bite the inside of my cheek so a smile didn't split my face open. Those amazing blue eyes dance to mine again. "It's possible she isn't lying... I'm sorry, God, that's embarrassing,"

I allow my lips to curl into a grin and takes his wrist in my hand, pulling it away from his face. I can tell he really is embarrassed by the bright pink shade of his lightly tanned skin, but I don't let him cover his face anyways. "S'alright, Lou. I enjoy being bragged about to your girlfriends."

Louis' own lips find a grin, "Who says I was bragging?"

"Leanne,"

"Goddamn it,"

I laugh as he retreats into his sweatshirt, hiding his face and arms inside. "Don't worry," I speak, leaning in a little closer. "I brag about you to anyone who'll listen."

"Don't lie to make me feel better." Came Louis voice, muffled from his hiding place.

"I wouldn't lie! Or try to make you feel better,"

"Alright," He accepts as he retreats from his clothing, quickly fixing his hair and smirking at me I begin to feel a little nervous. "What do you say about me, Styles?"

That you're beautiful and perfect in every way imaginable and I want to kiss you and hold you and never let you go, "Nothing of import, really. Just that you're an amazing person to talk to and you're hilarious and you're also pretty annoying and bad at skateboarding."

Louis fake sniffles and rubs under his eye, "I've got a tear, actually, Harry. How sweet are you?"

I smile. "You've got no idea."

"He's late," I observe for the fifth time in five minutes. Mum sighs heavily.

"I'm aware. You've astutely pointed that out enough times. He's probably got stuck in traffic or something."

"You're probably right," I ironically concur, sipping at a hot cup of tea.

The sperm cell that helped create me was supposed to be at our house fifteen minutes ago, but as per usual, he's decided to make a more dramatic entrance as Mum used to tell me. But, I've grown, and I now call it his inconsiderate ass being late because he doesn't care enough to be on time. You learn so much when you get older.

Mum frowns and reaches over to brush my curly mop of hair from my forehead. I didn't take the time out of my morning to brush it, or put pants on. "I know this is hard for you, Harry. But I'm very thankful that you're taking the high-road and speaking to your father. Just know I appreciate your effort."

"Yeah, well, don't appreciate anything too much just yet. I'm in a punching kind of mood."

"You're not going to punch your father,"

"I'm going to punch anyone who messes with my mum, and he never says the kindest words to you."

Her frown morphs into a grin and she presses her lips to my forehead. "I can handle anything he has to say, sweetheart."

"Can you?"

Before she could answer a rhythmic knock sounds. Nervously, Mum stands up and smooths out her blouse. I think she looks beautiful, but I know Dad won't even see her. I sigh and try my best to look uninterested.

The door swings open and awkward greetings are exchanged between my parents. I still don't look up at the man I hadn't seen since Christmas when he enters the house and says hello to me.

"Hi." I barely acknowledge. I take another exaggeratedly long sip of tea.

I gaze up at Mum and she's holding it together a lot better than last time. She's smiling politely at him and not shooting as many worried glances at me. On the way back down to the book I'm pretending to read, I see Dad standing there with his hands in the pockets of an expensive looking black suit, a blue pin-striped white undershirt with a red tie underneath the crisply ironed jacket. His hairline is receding, but whatever's left of the once thick, curly hair like mine is neatly combed back and his awkward situation smile is resting on his cleanly shaven face.

"Hungry? I'm taking you and Gem out for lunch at that one diner you like."

I shake my head, standing up and placing my nearly empty tea cup onto the table beside my. "I've actually got plans with a mate. I'll have to take you up on that another time."

"Harry," Mum warns. "I'm sure you can do that another time."

I pick up my black jeans from where I laid them on the couch and slide them on. "I actually can't. Louis and I have to study for a big test on Monday and he's got football all day tomorrow."

Dad sighs, and I have a morbid sense of achievement when I hear it. "How about dinner tonight? Just me and you?"

I swiftly try to come up with a reason why I can't do that either, but I can't under Mum's scrutiny. I shrug. "Fine,"

"Good," his fake smile returns. "I'm excited to get caught up with you."

"Yeah," I scoff. "If that were true than you'd call me every once in a while."

"Harry-" Dad tries to say something, but I cut him off.

"Bye, Mum, I love you."

I exit the house and slam the door shut, trying to contain my anger. I set off to where Louis and I were to meet with my head swimming with thoughts of different ways to ruin mine and Dad's plans tonight.

_

Writing on a rock was not an easy task, so I eventually gave up on studying like I said I was going to as Louis had. I watch him try and skip rocks in the thin creek. After a minute he realizes I'm watching him and peers over at me with a sympathetic grin.

"Do you want to talk about your dad? You never really do, but I'm here to listen. And to whack if you need to get it out of your system."

I smile sadly. "I'm not going to whack you."

Louis shrugs and stops his actions to step closer and sit beside me on the rock. "Then talk to me."

I wet my lips, staring down at the muddy forest floor. "What do I even say?"

"I dunno," Louis says. "Maybe start with how he's a giant dick."

"He is. I just don't understand why he even has to come here and pretend like he's got an interest in me. He doesn't; and he never has. He truly doesn't even like Gemma that much. Just more than me because she adores him. I can't even stand to see his face and I've got to go out to dinner with him."

Louis wraps an arm around my shoulders and it alone makes me feel a bit better. His side is pressed against mine, and our thighs are touching as well. I grin to myself and continue to hang my head.

"I won't say I know how you feel, but I can relate about the caring part. My dad doesn't give a damn about me, and he doesn't try to. I'm just a trophy son. Have you told your mum you'd just rather not have contact with him?"

"I've mentioned it, but I don't think she'd let me. I'm only seventeen. I've still got to listen to her."

"It's rough. I wish I could punch your dad in the face for you."

"I wish I could, too."

"Have you even met his new wife?"

I nod. "Once when Gemma and I went up to Spain to visit. She speaks very, very broken English. I get why Dad likes her so much; big boobs, big house, big bank account, small vocabulary. My mum's so much better."

"Your mum seems lovely."

"She's the greatest. I just wish she'd realize she is. She's so much better off without Dad telling her she's shit all the time. I guess she just doesn't have time to think that way."

Louis hums while reaching up and gingerly running his fingers through my hair and coiling strands of it around his fingers. "Has she got to work a lot, then?"

"Yeah. Child support isn't quite enough. I wish I could do something more to help her. I feel really guilty going to uni, but I want to get out of here so badly."

"Don't feel guilty," he told me. "Once you become the most successful person in the world, you get dig her out of poverty and give her a bigger beach house than your dad could even wrap his mind round. That'd show him."

"It definitely would, but I think that's a bit out of the realm of reality. I'm trash and everyone knows it. The only kind of steady job I'd be good at is flipping hamburgers or selling ecstasy."

"Harry, just because people call you white trash doesn't mean you are. Look at you; you take four AP classes and you've got A's in all of them. You're one of the kids being considered for valedictorian. You're a bloody genius, and if people can't look passed where you live and who you hang out with and what you wear long enough to see how special you are, than that's there loss and you can prove them wrong if you really wanted to."

I turn my head to face Louis. "You think?"

"I know," Louis answers, smiling. "Screw your dad and the rest of the idiots in this town right in the face. You're amazing, Harry. And I know you're going to do great things. You just have to know that, too."

My heart was swelling with so many different wonderful feelings that I couldn't even pick out just one. Louis is the only person who isn't my mum that would say this to me; and I don't know why, but I believe him, and I believe that he means what he says. I'm so happy that I forget to filter myself. All I can say is one thing as he stares me right in the eyes.

"I love you."

The happy feeling turns to a cold, paralyzing fear. My insides feel like they're being stood on by someone from My 600 Pound Life and I've lost the ability to breathe. I can't believe I'm stupid enough to say that.