Bloodsport

chapter 19

Thankfully, Louis did turn up Friday morning for the next practice. He didn’t look an inch in Harry’s direction but at least Harry could see that there was nothing terribly wrong with him. He kind of wondered where he’d been the day before, but it wasn’t like Harry hadn’t ever skipped school just to stay in bed. Louis didn’t tell, and Harry didn’t ask. They didn’t talk.

The whole weekend passed, and all of a sudden there was only a week left of school before the winter holidays. Louis didn’t contact him during those days, and Harry didn’t try to speak to him, either. His mother returned home on the Friday prior, but he hardly spoke to her, hiding out in his room for the most part. He wasn’t ready to speak to her yet, and she went to lunches and dinners, meanwhile, he spent the whole of his Sunday at Zayn’s house, grateful for his friendly parents and sisters. On Monday, he still felt full from the large feast of a dinner they’d had the night before, prepared by the Malik family, and Zayn seemed to feel the same from the way he met Harry’s eyes during lunch, only an apple in hand.

He saw Louis around, of course, both in classes and at football. Memories of the last time at Louis’ house danced around in his mind as if on crack, but as the week passed, they slowly faded out and were replaced by pure guilt and dread. Once again, Louis was entirely unimpressed by Harry’s erratic behaviour and physical assault. Moreover, even though Jasmine refrained from texting him, she still seemed to lurk around every corner at school. It was the last week before Christmas break, though, and it wasn’t long until Harry didn’t have to worry about seeing her every day at school. While that was a shitload off his shoulders, it still meant about two weeks at home. He hoped sincerely his parents would be needed at work for most of it.

By the time the last day of school was over, it had been almost two weeks since Harry was at Louis’ house, and since they’d slept with each other, or even touched one another. It wasn’t that Harry perpetually thought about sex; it was that he perpetually thought about Louis. This whole autumn term he had been thinking about him, in one way or another. The guilt was there, the regret lingering from Wednesday’s fight, but he was sure that if Louis would text him, or they’d talk, then he could squash those feelings with new and pure ones. But Harry couldn’t bring himself to reach out. It would be too pathetic. And what if Louis shut him down? He’d asked Louis to be there for him once already, but Louis hadn’t asked to see him in weeks.

Friday night, Harry’s parents were gone from the house. There was a note on the fridge that stated they’d headed out for dinner. Harry was at once grateful. He hadn’t actually spoken much to his mother since that Sunday morning, and he wasn’t eager to, either. Of course, it stung that they hadn’t waited for him to get back from school before they were out of town, but the end result was relief. He ended up on the sofa, ate leftover spaghetti from Tupperware, and watched people from school who generally seemed to have more fun than him through the screen of social media. Liam had posted a video from his house, where he and his girlfriend, Sophia, seemed to be hanging out. To be fair, Harry could probably very easily have headed on over and been welcomed with open arms, but something stopped him.

Despite being lonely, he didn’t feel in the mood. What would he even do there? Talk about girls and drink? He didn’t want to drink, and he didn’t want to talk about girls. It was Louis he wanted to talk to, and it didn’t look like Louis was over at Liam’s house anyway. Harry scoured the posts and videos he could see from the people who appeared to be there, but he couldn’t spot a mention of the guy he wanted to see most. What would Louis Tomlinson be doing on a Friday night? Movie night with his large family? Was he in bed, tucked under the fluffy duvet in his bed, watching Grease on DVD? Or maybe he was with other friends. Perhaps the blond guy he was always with — Niall — having fun and probably not thinking about Harry.