Letting Go (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter 7: Birds, Perches, and Fortune Cookies

Natalie Clemons

Harry was good. 

Well, he was better than most of the others on the field anyways. Thirty minutes into the game and his team was winning 4-1, which, if you know anything about soccer, is pretty high. Two of the goals were scored by Harry and the only goal from the other team was Connor's so the curly headed hipster still had a shot of winning his bet after all. 

Crap. 

I knew that Tyler wouldn't be able to score three goals, but honestly I didn't expect Harry to either. After all, it wasn't just Tyler he was playing against, it was Connor and six other counselors as well. It seems like he's more British that I accounted for. 

Saying that isn't considered stereotyping is it? What do you call people who are prejudice against the English anyways? Country-ist? Culture-ist? British-ist? 

I don't know, I'm just trying to avoid the fact that Harry is probably going to score another goal and I'm going to have to accept whatever his next challenge is. Though I have absolutely no idea what it could be, there is one thing I do know: it can't be good. 

Turning my attention back to the field, Harry had just taken the ball from Connor and was racing down the sideline before passing it across to James on the left. James bumped it lightly with his chest and then spun around Adam and sprinted towards Courtney, the last defender between him and the goal. 

Oh, please let James score the next one. They were playing first team to five so this would be the game winning goal. If James scored, I was safe. If Harry scored, I was dead. 

"Harry!" He yelled and proceeded to kick the ball. It soared about 7 feet off the ground to the right and was about to pass the goal post when Harry jumped up and headed it in the corner. It was a perfect pass for the perfect shot. 

"Yes!" Harry yelled, throwing his fist into the air. James and Daniel, a senior in high school, picked him up on their shoulders and chanted in victory. I grinned as I recalled them doing the same thing to me two years ago. 

Gosh, I would give anything to be out there. 

My body immediately froze at the thought. No. No, that's not right. I wouldn't give anything. I wouldn't give up Chickasaw. There was a lot I would sacrifice to be able to walk normally again, except for the one thing that might actually give me the chance to do it. 

Oh the irony. 

Alright, I really needed to get over myself. It's not the end of the world. I'm fine, I can still maneuver. A lot of people have it way worse than I do. I just need to quit feeling sorry for myself and focus on saving this camp.  All I had to do was make sure the campers had a perfect summer and find a way to raise some money. Shouldn't be too hard, right? 

Suddenly, a shadow blocked me from the sun, breaking me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see that Harry had loped over to me, a wide mischievous smirk on his face.

 "That's three for me babe." He folded his arms, his eyes bright. 

Maybe if I was really, really nice to him he wouldn't make the challenge so bad. "I saw that. You played really well Harry." I smiled, attempting to remove any sign of anxiety from my features. Unfortunately, all the nervous tension seemed to travel to my feet as they swung back and forth wildly. 

His smirk grew into a grin as he watched my reaction closely. "Really? How so?" 

I nodded, frantically searching my brain for something else to say. Why couldn't he just accept the compliment and move on? "Um, well you have good speed and maneuverability, you don't hog the ball, and your passing is pretty accurate." I was mentally crossing my fingers, hoping that was enough to satisfy him without inflating the size of his ego a billion times over.