Sidelines

Part title

His English teacher, a thirty-something year-old man with a muscular body and a beautiful jawline held him back one day after class to talk to him. Louis had hoped it was his hot-teacher-fucking-him-over a desk dream finally coming true, but Mr. Lester stopped that thought as soon as he started speaking. He told Louis if he kept up his trouble-making ways that he would be expelled if he didn't get his shit together.

That's when he really started evaluating his life. England isn't big on hockey, as in, he'd only heard of it before he'd moved to the States. The school counselor had suggested an extracurricular or two, to "keep his mind busy". He called bullshit, but then again, getting kicked from two schools in less than a year wasn't exactly ideal. So, steered away from the ever distasteful idea of American football, hockey seemed to be his only option.

But the thing was Louis was really good.

He had never picked up a stick in his life but as soon as he hit the ice it was like he was born to play. And it really did keep him busy; he had practices and games every day and there was no time to corrupt other students or commit petty crimes. His junior year of high school he was at his third game of the season, leading his team to victory 4 to 1 with seconds left on the clock when he got the offer to play for Penn.

He had never thought about college, didn't even plan to go. His records suggested that he couldn't get in if he tried, though he held no interest anyway. But by his senior year he was offered a full ride at several state universities, and the shine in his mother's eyes when he told her had pushed him to accept. His grades had to go up though, he managed to get them up to the bare minimum of what was required and the next fall he was unpacking his new room at Penn.

He and Harry got off on the wrong foot regardless, both of them rather competitive at tryouts. They're polar opposites, but they clashed anyway, both too cocky for their own good.

It didn't help that they both went out for right wing, Cowell immediately noticing the clash between the two freshmen. He had them both try for it and it had set their positions in stone after Cowell saw how hard of a time Harry had with it.

Harry's had it out for him since, and he gets it, sort of. His tiny ounce of a crush just doesn't serve much help for his supposed burning hatred for him.

It was worse freshman year, when they would trip each other and steal clothes out of each other's lockers and play harmful pranks till they were both threatened by their friends with murder.

The thing with Harry is, he's like this all-loving character, always helpful, always defending the people he cares for, and being the exception sort of sucks, especially with the way Louis' heartbeat pounds in his ears whenever Harry touches him, no matter how violent.

Their sophomore year Harry pushed Louis into the wall of the hallway, pointed a finger in his face and started to yell in his face and all Louis could do was snap back at the boy and hide his boner.

And Louis loves retaliating, loves seeing Harry all wound up. His neck turns red and his pupils grow large, cheeks flushed and jaw tight.

Louis can't even be threatened because Harry is just so god damn cute.

Louis' headed to practice at arse o'clock, bag carelessly hanging off of his arm and a growing sensation of dread building in his gut. The dull memory of the previous night burns behind his eyes, and he can't even fathom how Harry might act towards him now.

When Louis gets there and throws his gear on the floor half the guys are already done and heading into the rink.

His shoulder pads seem heavier than usual as he slinks onto the ice, chewing nervously on his guard as Cowell's glare burns into the back of his neck. Zayn skates over to his side, giving him a nod of greeting before Cowell starts to speak.