Do You Realize? |l.s.|

XXV

The bullying was lighter the weeks starting back after the break for the holidays, but this past week it's taken a turn for the worst. My whole body aches as I walk alongside Harry, and I try to hide the grimace as I breathe. There's a sharp pain when I breathe, and it was there ever since some guy named Evan kicked the shit out of me yesterday. I think he bruised a rib or something, and all I'm focused on right now is trying to mask it.

"Hey, what happened to you wrist?" he asks me. I look at it to see a dark brown bruise on the bone of my wrist.

"Oh, nothing," I shake my head, pulling my sleeve down quickly. "I hit my wrist on the corner of the desk during class."

"Fucking hate that," he says. "They need like, cushions on those things, I swear."

"Yeah," I chuckle tensely. Getting to school, me and Harry part ways as normally, and the day begins. Nick is giving me glares through the hallway and during our classes, and I feel like it's sort of more than he usually does. He seems to be in a bad mood, and I dread knowing what he's gonna do. Walking from lunch as the second lunch crowds into the lunchroom, I decide to use the bathroom before class. I walk in to see Nick and all his friends in there, smoking. I stop, trying to back out slowly so they don't notice me, but their heads shoot up at the same time.

"Shit, look who it is," Nick smirks. "We were just looking for you, must be our lucky day."

"I need to get back to class," I say, pointing behind me. They run at me and I pivot, but not in time as two guys come at me, one grabbing each arm and carrying me through the air as I kick and struggle. The pull me back against the wall, and Nick swings at me before I even get the chance to turn my head. He hits me square in the eye, sending a shooting pain through it. The blow sends my head back into the wall hard, and I feel dizzy, going cross-eyed as I try to blink away the blurriness.

He punches and kicks me more as I struggle less and less with the weaker I grow. I begin feeling myself struggling to fight back as blood runs down from my nose and into my mouth, me spluttering it out as I cough from the punch after punch I receive to the stomach. I cry out in pain when Nick hits me right in the head, his watch scratching my temple. They throw my body to the ground, kicking me again before chuckling and walking out. I watch them leave, seeing doubles when Harry passes them. He eyes them in curiosity as he walks into the bathroom, before looking down at me and his eyes widen.

"Shit," he says, running over to me and bending down before I can process it. "Shit, Louis, shit, shit, fuck," he swears to himself as he hovers his hands over me, trying to decide what to do to help.

"Haz," I whimper, partially because I'm in pain, and partially because he knows now.

"Shh, it's alright, Lou. I've got you, just stay awake, I'll get you cleaned up." He hurries over to the sink, wetting a few paper towels before dabbing them under my nose. He moves to the cut on my head and I wince. He pulls back slightly before dabbing it again, and this time I don't react. Once he's done wiping off my face, he puts my arm over his shoulder. "I'm gonna help you up, now."

"I can walk," I groan.

"I don't doubt it," he says. "But you need to stay off your feet as much as you can for now. Shit Lou, how the fuck? This is insane." He walks me to the nurse in silence, me wincing every once in a while, which he just responds to by whispering a quick apology. We get to the nurse and walk in, Nurse Jan looking at me expectantly.

"Louis, I see you haven't come far since last time," she sighs sadly. "Let's take a look, see what  the damage is this time around." Harry looks at me in confusion, and I just smile sheepishly, though it's also mixed with a grimace.

"Hey, Jan," I say, wincing when Harry puts me down on the bed. 

"You know the drill," she sighs, and I nod before lifting my shirt off. "Are these all from today?" she asks me, seeming concerned as she usually is.

"From this week, scattered a bit," I say, not daring to look Harry in the eyes.

"You poor dear," she says, giving me several ice packs to put around my body as I lay down, my eyes closing. "I'd recommend you head on home."

"I'll manage," I say.

"Lou, she's right. I can take you home," Harry interjects for the first time since we've arrived.

"You don't have to," I try. 

"But I will. Thank you nurse Jan, we appreciate it," he smiles gratefully at her before helping me up. I groan as he helps me walk, and I wave to Nurse Jan, who just smiles sadly before she's out of sight. We start walking home, Harry leaving our books in his locker and carrying both of our bags, along with helping me walk. Half way home, I let him know I can manage to walk on my own, and he hesitates before letting me.

"So, this has happened before?" he asks me, sounding almost... disappointed?

"Yeah," I nod. "You could say that."

"How long?" he asks me.

"Since freshman year," I mumble, looking down at my shoes as I walk.

"And why didn't you tell anyone?" he says after taking a moment to process it.

"I didn't wanna cause you trouble. You're friends with a lot of people, Haz. I didn't wanna ruin your relationships with everyone else."

"So it isn't just that Grimshaw kid and his friends? It's other people?" he asks me.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but the I don't exactly have any other friends besides you. The entire school sort of hate my guts," I chuckle bitterly.

"Since when?" he asks.

"Don't act so surprised that no one mentioned it to you," I roll my eyes. "You're friends with me, remember?"

"I guess so," he says sadly. "So all those times you've had bruises, was really something completely different?"

"Yeah," I say. We make it home and Harry tells me to get comfortable on the couch, taking several pillows from Zayn's room and bringing me ice packs and painkillers. "Thanks, Haz," I tell him sincerely.

"It's the least I could do. You look like shit," he says.

"Feel like shit," I say. "And I'm sorry again, for like, dumping all this on you. I know it must not be fun finding out about your friends being assholes and your other friend being the school joke."

"You're not a joke," he argues, looking sort of angry. "I don't know what shit they've been filling your head with fore the past few years, but you're my friend and I think you're an absolutely wonderful person, inside and out."

"Thanks," I blush, smiling to myself.

"I mean it."

"You're not so bad yourself," I joke. As guilty as I feel and as much as I wanted to hide it from him, I'm sort of relieved he knows. At least now, I have someone here by my side who can make me smile, even through a situation like this.