Detention ➳ Larry

Chapter one

One of their stupid heads turns up and looks at me straight in my eyes and- oh shit, I'm a witness now. I'm going to get beat up for sure. They quickly rush over to me and surround me in a circle. I gulp and swallow my fears and feel my palms become speckled in sweat, and I wipe them against my trousers. I know for a fact that if I try to run, it'll just make things worse, so I stay put.

One of them grabs my shirt collar. "Listen kid, you don't say anything about this to anyone, alright?" he shouts. I just nod slowly, unable to speak.

"Aw, he's shy!" another one exclaims, glancing around at his idiot friends.

Suddenly, my jaw is punched and I hear a snap. I realize I'm on the ground now, and my back is in pain when it impacted the cold pavement. I look up to see the five boys surrounding me, and they start kicking me in the stomach. I don't fight back, because I know I can't win, anyways. Their feet collide with my rib cage, sending a wave of pain through my body. Another one steps on my chest with one foot to hold me down against the ground, and the other's continue to kick me.

"Don't wanna fight back, huh? You're weak," one of them mumbles, followed by a round of laughter.

I whimper in pure desperation.

I hear the school doors open and somebody gasp. Their heads turn up to find out who it is, and so do I. Even though I'm hurting, I manage to turn my head enough to see the door.

There's a boy standing there with a footie jersey on. Football try-outs were held tonight after school for the goalie. I'm pretty sure he's the only one the showed up, though. I've seen him around school a few times, and I think he's a in grade ten. I can't recall his name, though. His hair is brown and full of curls, which are now fading to careless waves and are covered in sweat. His eyes are green like emeralds and he looks at me with pursed lips. He's quite attractive, if you ask me.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" he exclaims. To my surprise, the kicking stops, and the five boys run away, leaving their empty bottles of spray paint behind.

I sigh in relief as they flee the parking lot, and I stand up, gripping the side of my stomach in pain. The boy who's name I can't remember walks up to me and helps me up. For a second, as his hand wraps around my waist, my heart stops.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asks me frantically.

I frown. "Um, nothing. I'm f-fine. Thank you for helping me," I say quietly. I turn to start walking home, but he grabs my shoulder and spins me around.

"Yeah, well you don't seem fine," he says raising an eyebrow. He flicks his head towards my hand, which is still gripping on the side of my stomach. "Do you need any help?" he asks me.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you . . . uh- sorry, I don't know your name," I say.

The boy sticks out his hand, and I shake it lightly. "Harry. Harry Styles. You're Louis Tomlinson, right?" he asks, and I'm immediately puzzled. How does he know my name? Nobody does.

"Uh, yeah, that's me."

"You're the director of the musical, right?" he asks me. I nod. "My cousin Liz auditioned for Juliet." I grin and remember what she looks like and, yeah, they do look somewhat similar. Same hair, same cheeks and smile.

"Ah, yes. She's very talented."

He nods. "Yeah, I know. Apparently not good enough to get the lead though, yeah?" he says.

"Um- I'm sorry, I- I just-"

"I'm just joking, mate," Harry laughs, punching my shoulder playfully. "So, how's the musical coming along?"

I frown. "Well I'm not completely sure if the musical is going to continue."

"Why not?"

I bite my lip. "I can't find someone who is willing to play the role of Romeo. You're not as talented as your cousin, are you? 'Cause if you are, then I think I found my Romeo."

"Uh, no," he chuckles, a faint blush creeping on his cheeks.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Mr. Oliver exclaims, rushing out of the school doors. He stares at us, then his eyes widen as they fall upon the spray paint on the teacher's cars. He looks completely bewildered and stunned, eyes darting between Harry and I.

"It's not what it looks like, sir-" Harry begins.

"You two are in so much trouble!" he shouts, staring at both of us, and I can't believe what I'm hearing. He actually thinks that we did this?

"Sir, we didn't-"

"I don't care what excuses you have!" he interrupts me, raising his hands up in disbelief. "As far as I'm concerned, you two are the only ones who were on school property tonight."

Harry just frowns. "We didn't do this. Some other kids-"

"I don't want to hear your stories, Harry. I expected more from the both of you." He growls out his words and his voice is filled with so much disappointment.

We don't say anything. We just nod.

"Both of you have earned yourselves detention for a week, every day after school. I'll be making a phone call to your parents as well. You're lucky if we don't press charges," Mr. Oliver warns.

Harry folds his arms across his chest. "But I have practice every day after school."

"And I have to work on the musical!" I add.

"Well, you should've thought of that before you decided to graffiti a teacher's cars, boys," he argues, shaking his head in disapproval. "You should be ashamed of yourselves. Now go home." He turns around and disappears into the school, slamming the door behind him. The sound rattles around inside my brain. Oh my god.

I stare at Harry with wide eyes. That didn't just happen, did it? I feel sick to my stomach.

"I guess we're detention buddies," Harry says with a smirk.