I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts)

Chapter 2

But Niall, Niall was a nice lad; funny, talkative and odd in a charming way, taking football just as seriously as Louis did. He really hoped they would grow close. Niall seemed like just the person you needed in your life.

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When the episode ended, Louis was almost running late. Practice would start in twenty minutes and he had to cycle to the stadium still, which would take him up to seven minutes. He left his laptop and empty yoghurt on the bed haphazardly and slipped his Vans on. He grabbed for his footie bag that hung on the door handle and crammed his jersey and shorts inside, which he had left airing out overnight.

He locked the doors on his way down and got to his bike in a matter of minutes. He probably rode a little recklessly and was glad that the streets surrounding the university main building and the dorms weren't all that frequented by cars and not many other students on bikes were around.

When he entered the locker room, most of the other boys were there already. Barely anyone noticed him coming in, apart from Niall, who waved happily and tapped an empty spot on the bench next to him. Louis smiled and headed in his direction, when he noticed out of the corner of his eyes another gaze following him. He turned his head slightly, instantly meeting Harry's disapproving face. The boy was in his uniform already, his curls up in a bun and arms crossed in front of his chest. Louis swallowed and lowered his head, feeling chastised by a single look. He wasn't even late, there were still minutes left until the start of practice and he would be changed in a matter of seconds. Honestly, he felt like Harry had singled him out already, chosen him to be his punching bag for the term, and Louis was anything but okay with that.

Niall greeted him happily when Louis finally turned away from Harry and took his seat, immediately beginning to strip of his jeans and shirt.

"How do you feel?" Niall asked then, while lacing up is shoes.

Louis chuckled. "Sore, to be honest. I haven't done push-ups like we did yesterday in ages. Luckily I don't need my arms all that much to play good football."

Niall opened his mouth to respond, probably ready to agree with Louis if his winces when he moved his shoulders were anything to go by, when another voice spoke up, effectively cutting him off. "You having problems keeping up already, Tomlinson? After one day?" The taunting voice made Louis' blood boil and a blush rise on his cheeks. He didn't bother to look at Harry, who was clearly hovering somewhere behind him and Niall if he had heard Louis' words. Niall looked flabbergasted next to him, mouth ajar.

"No, I don't," Louis said evenly, internally fighting to hold his tongue. What had he done to deserve this kind of treatment? He didn't know Harry Styles for twenty-four hours yet, but the boy despised him already.

"You better not. Otherwise, there are plenty of boys names on a waiting list in Collins office, all more than happy to take your place and scholarship if this is too hard for you," Harry said, and Louis didn't think he imagined the vicious note ringing along in his words. He certainly wasn't joking and it made Louis' heart drop.

"Don't worry about it," he pressed out, his voice barely steady anymore, his hands balled to fists.

There was shuffling behind him and after a moment Louis was sure that Harry had gone out on the pitch, along with a handful of boys, Louis and Niall almost alone in the room now. Niall turned his wide-eyes stare on Louis. "What the hell just happened?"

Louis gritted his teeth and refrained from answering. He probably would only snap at Niall and the boy didn't deserve that. He wouldn't know what to answer anyway. So he shrugged and got up to tuck up his shorts, then slipped on his shoes.

Niall patted his back in a supporting gesture and it actually made Louis breathe a little easier, the anger and tension slowly leaving his body. He smiled at the blonde boy, willing to forget the brief encounter as fast as possible. They made it to the field with two minutes to spare, but the Coach didn't utter a word so everything was good. Louis was down for this practice, fired up and ready to go. He would show everyone what a fucking good and valuable player he was and then Harry could choke on his own stupid comments.