I Bet You Won't • Larry

28. I Bet You Won't Surf

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm here. Sorry," I say, my cheeks flushing.

Louis smiles. "It's okay, baby boy. Just thought I lost you there," he says, looking back at his phone.

My heart races. Baby boy. Does he know how much I love that name? God, he must.

I chuckle a bit, my cheeks continuing to heat up until I'm almost one-hundred percent positive that I resemble a tomato.

"So, Venice has surfing lessons at two, and it says that I can reserve a class for fifteen bucks. After, if you want, we can walk around the beach or the pier. Oh! We can go to the Santa Monica pier after we look at the shops! Won't that be fun?" He says, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Honestly, that sounds fantastic. It's eleven, and if we leave now we'll get there in probably around an hour. We can get a late breakfast at a cute little cafe and then go!" I respond. The day hasn't even started yet and I'm already bouncing in my seat; I'm so excited.

"That sounds amazing, Haz. Let's get dressed," he says. I nod, standing up from the bed. I notice that he glances over to his phone and frowns, fingers itching in his lap. Something he saw on his phone made him upset. He doesn't realize I'm staring, but I see him reach over for it before retreating his hand back quickly.

"Lou," I say. His head snaps over to me, his eyes too wide for him to pass as innocent.

"W-what?" He stutters out, afraid he's been caught.

"What's going on?" I ask, pulling an old t-shirt over my head-I'm going to be taking it off anyways, so what's the point in trying to look good?

"It's really nothing, Haz. No need to worry about me." He sits up and leans against the headboard.

"Lou," I say, sitting down. I face him, sitting with my legs folded so our knees are touching, seeing as he's sitting the same way. "Please. Talk to me."

Louis sighs and looks at his phone for a few seconds, debating whether or not he wants to tell me. He lets out a long sigh through his nose, looking back at me.

"I don't want to ruin our vacation any more than it already has been," he finally says, fiddling with his phone in his lap.

"Lou," I say, softly. "Hate to tell you, but that really can't happen. I think some of the worst things that could have happened to us, did. And even if they didn't, it wouldn't matter, because you telling me how you feel isn't going to ruin anything."

Louis sighs again. His eyes won't meet mine, and he's focused on the way his small fingers wrap around parts of his phone.

"It's just... I got a text today. From Lottie. It's just... there's something I haven't yet told you. I'm sorry," Louis says.

"Oh, that's okay, Lou. Talk to me."

Louis sighs for the nineteenth time. "I... I just, my mum. She's... she's been sick. For a while. She... has breast cancer, Harry. She's had it for about a year now. And Lots texts me with updates every so often, and she just had her fourth round of chemo. She's not doing too well, Haz. She's lost all of her hair, and she looks really, really bad, and she can barely move now. They're keeping her at the hospital for another day and then Lots and Fizzy will take her back to our house. I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Louis says, not making eye contact with me. He keeps his bright eyes trained on his lap.