Awkward (Narry)

iii.

"Hey, coach."

"Hello Horan." The lacrosse coach greets me as he walks passed the row of lockers. I shrug on my practice jersey, and toss my school uniform into my bag.

"Are you going to the bonfire on Friday?" Louis asks me as he washes his face with makeup wipes.

"I'm not sure. You'll be with distracted with Nick, and I don't want to deal with you shoving your tongue down his throat all night."

"Aka, you want to sit on your laptop."

I nod and close my locker, only to be startled by a young boy leaning against the one next to my own. "Who the fuck are you?"

The small brunette looks slightly offended at my greeting, but doesn't say anything about it. He must be new. "Daniel. I'm a ninth year."

"And you made varsity?" I ask, raising my brow, because nobody has made varsity straight out of the gate since my friends and I.

"Yeah."

"Wait." I lean against my locker, siding up next to him. "You're that one kid."

"Very specific."

"The one that hooked us up at the party in August. You brought all that beer." I knew he had looked somewhat familiar. He's a bit of a legend in the sports cliques. Rumor has it Hood told him that he could go to the first party of the school year, but only if he brought enough alcohol for everyone attending. Other people say it was to impress the York Prep girls on the other side of town. I think he probably has a shitty personality that only drunk people would like, so he intoxicated his teammates to make friends. But that's just my opinion.

"That's me." Daniel grins, a small gap in between his front two teeth. I rolls my eyes.

"They call you Jack Daniels now, you know."

"Yeah," he shrugs. "I know."

"Hey, Niall." Louis cuts in our conversation, striking my side with his school shirt. "Quit talking to the children and help me get my bags into this goddamn locker."

"You better change." I motion to Daniel's outfit- the tacky navy blue slacks and white button up shirt that makes up the school's uniform. "Coach doesn't like it when players are late."

"Niall!" Louis snaps at me again, and I turn to help my best friend.

"You're fucking useless."

"Language, Horan." Coach scolds me as he walks passed. I look to Louis, who smirks and continues attempting to shove his bags into the locker.

"Sorry, Coach." I apologize, even though he's already rounded the corner and headed outside to the field.

"These bags usually fit in here. I don't know why they're not." Louis complains, pushing his hair out of his clean face. Even though I've seen him without makeup numerous times, whether for lacrosse, or at night before bed, or in the morning before he puts any on- it's still weird. He's not Louis without darkened lashes, bright lips, and that slightly shimmery stuff he puts on his cheeks. He's just not.

"Did you take everything out of them?" I pick up his purple one that holds his school books. Stepping over him, I attempt to slide the bag onto the top shelf. "Do you have five million rocks in this fucking thing, or what?"

"Econ text book." He explains.

"Gross."

"Pretty much." Louis half laughs. "Now, if you could move your legs, I would like to stand up without ramming your dick." Louis tilts his head back to look up at me, and I laugh.