As I walk through the crowded hall, my stomach is swirling with thoughts of seeing Louis again. He hid in his room the rest of last night, basically, and this morning I left for campus before he had even woken up. We have our lecture together in a few short minutes, and it's nerve-wracking.

Someone grabs my arm, and I spin fast, my heart skipping heavily in my chest. I wish it were blue eyes before me, but they're brown and filled with rage. I swallow, trying to keep my posture straight so no one notices my fear. "We need to talk after practice, and you need to meet me there after lectures," Josh demands lowly.

Why did I think that I could easily escape him throughout the week?

I nod out of intimidation, and he lets go. I watch as he storms off down the hall to his lecture, and I can't move. I'm going to get sick to my stomach. I find my way into my lecture, glancing at the empty seat beside mine. Usually, I beat him here anyways, but I can't mask the slight disappointment. I settle in my chair, attempting to shake off these nerves by messaging Ali to ask if she wants to watch the guys practice. Anything to keep me safe from him. She'll make it hard for him to shake her off, giving me a little bit of hope and sanity.

The seat beside me is taken, and I lock my phone instantly. Louis sits down, his eyes straight ahead to steer clear of me. "I'm sorry," I start, my voice so thin. His lips purse together, and he barely just shakes his head. "Not your fault," he mumbles, still refusing to look my way.

"Please don't be mad at me," I ask pathetically. Josh is already so pissed with me; I can't deal with Louis being upset with me as well.

"I'm not," he stalls with a heavy sigh. "I'm not mad at you. Just drop it," he finishes. I want so desperately to ask why it's such a big deal to him, but Heather takes a seat to his left, which marks the end of this conversation. I look away. My heart stuck in my stomach. He isn't mad, and yet I still feel so guilty.

Lectures drag by, insanely slow. Regret has been consuming every ounce of my veins. I should have never gone to his flat. Jace would have never walked in on that, Louis wouldn't be so withdrawn, and Josh wouldn't be so furious. It's like one mistake after another. I'm helpless. I don't know what to do with myself. It tortures me all day, up to the practice. Hannah is too busy with an assignment, so Ali is the only one to go with me.

The air is crisp, and I hold my pea coat tighter to my body. My eyes skim over the football field, first finding Shane and Derek in black by the goalie net, laughing about something. The team has both the home and away jerseys on, some wearing black and the others wearing white, for a practice match against themselves. Louis is also easy to find, wearing white with his tattoos contrasting. Although his back is to us, not knowing that I'm here at all. My eyes finally find the centre, and my stomach churns as Josh looks our way with a clenched jaw. My head falls, not wanting to look at that death glare.

"I only agreed to this, so I have an excuse to look at Louis," Ali notes with a hint of a laugh. Even that adds to this nausea. The coach blows his whistle, and the team starts to play. I look up, my eyes drawn to those tattoos first. He's looking this way, noticing that I'm here, and my heart is heavy. Only he focuses on the scrimmage, and I nibble on my bottom lip.

I'm not interested in watching at all. Football has always been my brother's and Tom's favourite sport, and I ended up dating a player and befriending more. Even Ali has little to no interest, so she goes into small conversations to make the time go by faster while interrupting every so often to make a remark about Louis.

I may go nuts if I hear her talk about Louis one more time.

About a half hour in, Josh tries to show off, the ball now between his feet. He dribbles it a little with a trick in the air, the ones in black finding it hard to get it from him. Show off. Initially, I was intrigued, but now I'm not too fond of those stupid tricks anymore. Louis suddenly steals the ball and swiftly kicks it in the net, sending the others in white into a fit of cheers. The moment grasps my attention before I watch Josh's arms flail up.

"What the hell? We're on the same team," Josh snaps, loud enough that his voice echoes over the field. The rest of the team falls silent. Louis turns to face him, and my stomach dips instantly.

"Maybe if you didn't try to fucking show off every time, it would have been in the goal even earlier," Louis retorts. That's all it takes before Josh shoves at his chest. An instant chill runs down my spine. Worrying that Louis could mention me being with him instantly hits me. He has that leverage against Josh, who is trying to pick a fight. The kind of leverage that will get me killed.

"Oh no," Ali whispers, and I'm suddenly on my feet. Louis shoves back, and I run right onto the field. The rest of the team is staring, wide-eyed, and the coach blows his whistle. I grab Josh's arm before he has a chance to go after Louis once more, forcing him to face me instead.

"Stop before you get benched for this week's game," I let out a shaky breath, looking him dead in his eyes. Except I couldn't care less if he did, I care more about saving Louis from taking a hit. He seethes out, his face red and that vein popping above his brow. I'm more than used to this anger, and I'm not scared of it for once. He stares at me with those deadly eyes, contemplating his fate. "You will lose out on the scouts and give the wrong impression, missing out on the first game of the season. All of this hard work will be for nothing," I add, hoping he'll stop. One more heavy breath escapes him. He finally grabs onto my arm roughly, a gasp escaping my lips, and turns to walk away with me.

"How about you ease up on her arm?" Louis challenges and my heart plummets. Josh turns back so fast, removing his touch from my arm. My blood is cold. Lifeless. I had almost gotten him away from the situation.

"Excuse me?" Josh snarls.

"You're pissed at me, not her. Take it out on me instead," Louis' words ignite a flare in Josh's eyes.

"Josh," I try to stop him as he goes after him again, stepping forward with his arm arching back. A sharp pain takes over my cheek, and suddenly I'm on the ground. My hand is on my cheek, my eyes aching with tears threatening to spill. The whole world has stopped moving, and I'm left stunned.

"Josh, what the hell?" Ali screams so loud.

"That's it, off my field, Abrams," the coach's rough voice is heard.

My vision is blurred. There's a commotion all around us, and I can't even think straight.

"Megan, I didn't mean to do that," Josh tries to kneel before me, his voice wavering. He tries to grab my face, and I flinch back with a small gasp.

"Don't touch me," I weakly get out. So much commotion goes on around us. Josh still goes to grab my cheeks, and my hands swat at his chest to get him away. "I said don't fucking touch me," I scream, my hand slamming harder into his chest. I have never hit him, and there's a hollow thud from my hard blow to him that strikes even more fear through me. Except he doesn't retaliate, he's pulled back before anything else happens, and his eyes are wide.

"Josh, just get back," Shane holds onto his arm. Josh tries to protest, but Shane is pressing on his chest to stop him. "Man, just give her some space," Shane quips.

"Are you alright?" Derek is suddenly before me, worry laced in his brown eyes. No, nothing is alright. I was just punched by the same guy who slapped me the other night and is now acting like he never meant to hurt me. I just want to burst into tears, even with all these eyes on me. I don't answer him. I can't answer him. It's like something is stuck in my throat. "Come on, let's get you some ice," Derek frowns after I don't answer. How was I supposed to respond when they are all oblivious to what goes on daily? I'll get the blame for stepping in between when Josh and I are alone.

Derek helps me up by my arm and wraps his arm behind me. My head lowers, not wanting to see any of those eyes watching.

This isn't the first, and it isn't the last that Josh has hurt me. Unintentional, this time, but all of the other times are wrapping into one, and I break. I can't do this anymore. I end up curling into him, my head in his chest as a sob escapes me. His breathing staggers, and he wraps the other arm around me, yet he thinks it's solely because I just got hit. I can't control it. This is the first time I have cried to him or any of them openly because of Josh. I can't help but fall apart.

Eight at night, I am lowering yet another ice pack from my cheek. I can only take so much more of the cold sensation on my sensitive skin. I know the rest of my face is swollen from tears, and I can't help it.

"Do you want another?" Hannah asks, concern laced in her words. I swallow back the lump in my throat and shake my head in refusal. "Fucking Josh. All because the ball was taken from him," Hannah murmurs.

"He keeps texting us to see if you're alright," Ali notes. That's a load of bull. He may be texting that, but under that facade of concern is someone who is pissed about the weekend and is probably even more pissed because I embarrassed him. I will hear all about it later, scolded like some child or maybe even cornered against a wall.

"I don't want to talk to him," I whisper, clearing my throat.

"Well, he is your boyfriend of two or three years. You two will have to talk it out at some point," Ali notes, and it's almost heart-wrenching. Why can't I just disappear? Leave this life, no explanation necessary, and start fresh somewhere. I don't have it in me to answer that. Mentally, I am slowly giving up and closing myself off. I'm sure they sense it, but they haven't interrogated me for it.

There's a knock at the door, and I blow out a raspberry. It's either Shane or Derek to check in on me. Or, it's Josh waiting to scold me. Regardless, I'm not in the mood for either, especially not the latter. Ali helps herself to the door and opens it, only for her to step back with a nervous flutter of her lashes. I look towards the doorway, and my mouth dries instantly, finding Louis standing there with his lips pressed together and his white uniform still on.

"Uh," Hannah stammers.

"Can I talk to you?" he asks, his blue eyes matching my hazel ones.

Hannah gives me a wary look, and I nod. Little does she know, Louis is the least of my problems. Hannah gets the memo and stands, grabbing her black jacket from her bed. "Let's go to the cafe," she tells Ali. Ali clears her throat and nods, still looking so shocked by his presence. By this time, I'm so numb that I don't care that they know he's here. The two make their way out, and Louis hesitantly steps in, shutting the door behind himself. If it weren't for Friday night, he wouldn't know where to find me.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen at all," Louis starts, and I look away. His apology is genuine, compared to the frantic one Josh had partially given so that he doesn't look terrible in front of everyone, but I can't bring myself to look up at him.

"I told you I'm fine, and you shouldn't have said anything," I whisper dryly. My cheek still aches, even just talking, a constant reminder of what happened on that football field. My cheek may feel worse tomorrow.

"I can't just sit there and do nothing. You won't tell anyone else what Josh does, you won't leave him, and he was probably about to lash out at you because he was pissed at me. I didn't want that to happen," he defends.

"Alright, but it isn't your battle to fight," I remind him, a frustrated hand running through my hair. I stand and turn away to move the chair closer to the wooden desk—something to keep me from looking at him. "Louis, we hooked up once months ago. We aren't friends, and we aren't together. I just opened up about things I shouldn't have to someone who doesn't ever talk about himself, which was a mistake. We can't keep meeting or doing whatever we're doing. I don't want something else like this to happen again. I'm fine. Just drop it."

He stays silent for a moment, the air filled with heavy tension. All of this strain on my chest only makes me weaker. After what happened, I'm terrified that something more can follow, and I don't want to risk it.

He touches my hip, and my body can no longer move, a shaky breath escaping me. "I'm not leaving," he starts, a low whisper so close behind me that it sends chills down my spine. I spin to face him, gulping as I realise how close he is to me. Those eyes are intent on mine, his face just a few inches away. His fingertips are on my chin, and his eyes flit over my left cheek. He breathes out slowly, not happy about my bruised skin at all. It's faint, at least, and luckily low enough to spare me a black eye. "You don't understand how bad I want to kill him. This isn't the first bruise, and it won't be the last," his reminder strikes some pain in my chest.

"Stay out of it," I lower his hand from my chin. His lips press tightly together, aggravated by my response. I smell the faintest scent of tobacco on him. He smoked after what happened, which he said he only does when stressed. My stomach is in knots. "Why does it matter so much to you? It's my relationship, not yours."

"Doesn't mean I don't want to get to know you more and protect you," he whispers, so huskily low. Time stands still, and I am short of breath. His hand gently caresses my other cheek, the warmth of his touch being like a fire to my skin. My eyes fall on those lips, anticipation rushing through my veins.

There's a knock at the door, and his hand immediately leaves my cheek. I push at his chest, light enough to not hurt him but just enough to distance ourselves. "Get in the closet," I whisper frantically, shoving him in that direction. He doesn't hesitate. He gets in, and I shut the closet door behind him when he is inside. Ali and Hannah know he's here, and I'd prefer the others not find out.

I open the door, and my heart drops instantly. I thank my lucky stars that we reacted so fast. I expected either Shane or Derek, but Josh stands before me instead. Only he doesn't look angry like I had expected. He seems worried, genuinely worried. He's no longer in his football gear, now in a hoodie and sweats. His brown hair is a chaotic mess. He holds a bouquet of red roses in one hand and coffee in the other. Worry pounds heavily at my chest, knowing that Louis is also in here. One little sound, and we're both dead. God, I hope he doesn't smell his cologne.

"I'm sorry, Megs," he breathes out. I swallow. He gives me the flowers, and I have little time to react before his arms are around me. His free hand laces through my hair, and my chest is tight. "I didn't mean to hit you," he whispers. Heat courses through me instantly.

"But you did the other day," I start, my voice cracking. I try to move out of his arms, but he won't let me out.

"I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, and," he starts to go on, and my chest is tight. I can't listen to him do this again. I've heard it a million times after different bad days.

"Josh," I push out of his arms. He lets me go this time, and I feel so sick. "I want to be alone," I plead lowly. His jaw tightens, and he looks down. Just like that, I can feel the anger starting to return. The tension is like a slow poison, already beginning to sink in. "Hannah and Ali will be back shortly. Just, please, I'm tired. I want to go to bed. I don't even want to see them or anyone," I beg.

He clears his throat and sets the coffee down on the desk. He doesn't say another word. He turns and leaves. That frog is back in my throat, watching the door shut. I wait, my pulse becoming weak. He may barge right back in. He might not. I wait long enough until I think the coast is clear before opening the closet door. I dodge eye contact with Louis and turn away to drop the roses down onto the desk beside the coffee.

It's nothing but silence at first. More tension fills this room, but different from the last. I finally turn to look at Louis, but his eyes focus on the roses and coffee. "See? I am fine. Josh and I are fine. You should leave."

"Gift giving is another sign of manipulation, to keep you around," he states boldly, eyes focused on those gifts still. My entire body goes numb. This guy is far too brave and bold, admitting that out loud. Even more anxiety that I don't need starts up. "He doesn't deserve a single ounce of your time. When will you see that?"

"Louis," I start, my voice wavering. The door opens, and my heart drops to the floor.

Derek.

It's just Derek.

It's not Josh. I can breathe, just a little.

Although confusion immediately sprawls across his face. Worry etches over me as he looks at Louis. "What are you doing here?" he immediately asks.

"He came to apologise," I answer, timid behind my words. Derek's face softens, and I don't see any suspicion whatsoever. I can breathe just fine.

"Josh gets...power-hungry. He just wants to be the best at everything. He's at fault for that whole situation, in my opinion," Derek notes. It only makes my stomach curl. He just called Josh power-hungry, and now I can't help but wonder if he does know what I go through. If Louis could figure it out in such a short amount of time, I'm sure at least one of my friends has, but would he really let it go on without saying anything? The thought alone brings worry and doubt to the pit of my stomach.

"I'll see you in our lecture," I tell Louis, my voice weakening. He doesn't protest. He nods and makes his way out, Derek bidding him a mumbled goodbye as he walks out. Only the moment he's gone, the strings around my heart tighten. Derek shuts the door after him before looking at me. "How did he know where your dorm is?" he asks, an eyebrow raised.

"Ali," I lie, no longer looking him in the eyes. Louis' words are fresh on my mind, sinking in and making my stomach twist into knots. My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I take it out to find a message from him already.

Louis: If you want to talk, meet me tomorrow night at my flat.

Derek begins to say something, and I just delete the message, my insides becoming a mess.