Louis ran over the entire curb when he turned into the school parking lot. He was five minutes late, which would be alright literally any other day of the year. However, it was the first day, and being five minutes late to class your senior year after navigating your way through the school for three years straight is just embarrassing. Louis was not trying to embarrass himself this early in the school year.
He snatched his backpack from the passenger seat and flung his door open, forgetting to turn the car off before getting out. One of his backpack straps got caught around the steering wheel, causing his bag to slam into the horn. He let out an awkward squeak as the few last few stragglers in the parking lot glared at him. So much for avoiding embarrassing scenarios. The first one had already occurred and he hadn't even made it to the door yet.
After pulling the key out of the ignition, Louis locked his rickety old red Toyota Corolla and hurried off toward the back entrance. He made it inside just as the warning bell rang, signaling about two minutes until he'd have to be in class. He released the pent up air from his lungs that he didn't notice he was holding in and slowed his pace. He watched his feet as he walked, dragging against the white and grey tiled floor since he was too tired to pick them up any higher. There was one single smiley face doodled in black sharpie at the toe of his white vans. If only he could be smiley right now. His homeroom was upstairs. He was so not looking forward to having to walk up the stairs first thing every morning. Why did school stairs always feel so much harder to walk up than regular stairs?
It was as if the sun had just emerged from the clouds when he spotted the all-too-familiar face of Liam Payne sitting grumpily in the back row of the classroom. Liam's eyes lit up a tiny bit at the sight of Louis trudging towards him.
"Thank fuck," Louis muttered as he settled into the seat right next to Liam.
"You could say that again. Thought I was going to have to ask the girl next to me to wake me up everyday after class was over."
"Glad I could be of assistance." He scanned the classroom for anyone else he tolerated, and upon finding no one, he sat back in his seat and crossed his arms across his chest. "This class is shit."
Liam nodded in agreement right as the bell rang. The teacher ambled in a moment later with a bright smile on her face.
"Hello guys! For those of you who don't know me, I'm Mrs. Anderson. I teach History 4, and I'm glad you all decided to take a fourth year of history even though it wasn't necessary." Louis and Liam traded knowing glances. Bless her and her pure heart that ignored the fact that ninety percent of the students in the classroom were only taking the class to fill their empty schedules.
Mrs. Anderson rambled on about the curriculum and the syllabus and first day of school bullshit that had Louis zoning out until it was time to leave. He rushed out of class after saying goodbye to Liam and strode through the hallway in the same style he'd been for the past three years: eyes on the ground and a scowl on his face. As the day dragged on, he hated himself more and more for agreeing to a full schedule instead of leaving early like most seniors. Colleges, his guidance counselor had said. Colleges want overachievers. Especially the one you're looking into. Whatever.
So he went through with it, begrudgingly sitting through all seven periods and listening to new faces talk about the same shit they did every year. It'd been going as swimmingly as it possibly could until he was on his way to his last class of the day. The class he'd been on the fence about taking all summer.
It was a new class, just added to the list at the end of his junior year. His english teacher had been adamant about him taking it, claiming that it had his name written all over it. From the way she described it, it sounded like a regular english class with a bit of a creative twist.
"So, creative writing?" He'd asked.
"No... more like... artful writing."
He'd given her the most incredulous look he could muster up. She just laughed at him. So, on the day of the deadline, he called his guidance counselor and told her that he wanted to take the class. He ignored the annoyed sigh on the other line of the phone.
He'd gotten himself somewhat excited for this fancy writing class, which is why his parade was rained -- no, poured -- on the second he walked through the door. Front row, right in the center, sat Harry Styles and Niall Horan in all their glory. Louis very nearly turned right back around and walked out, but he settled for clenching his fists and marching to the back of the room, taking the seat farthest from them.
Mr. Golden Boy Styles and BFF Niall Horan were everything cliché about popular boys. Harry, quarterback of the football team with Niall as his left tackle. Girls painted their football numbers on their cheeks at every game, obsessing over them like they were proper celebrities. Louis thought it was pathetic.
The two boys had been best friends since elementary school, and even then they were everybody's favorite duo. Harry with his big bright eyes and pink cheeks and childhood charm, Niall with his bubbly disposition and dorky braces and good jokes. Teachers had always worshipped the ground they walked on. Even though they were friendly with everyone, their only real 'friends' were each other. A Crescent Hill High party without Harry and Niall was simply just not a Crescent Hill High party.
The boys were like a fantasy to everyone in school. Louis despised them.
Well, Niall wasn't terrible, per se, but he was loud and boisterous all the time and it drove Louis nuts. Harry, on the other hand, was a total nightmare.
Even though chances were Harry didn't know Louis' name, Louis still hated every bone in that boy's body. The way he held his head up high sporting his dumb dimples, making the girls quite literally trip over their own feet as he sauntered by. The way he'd greet his fan club with a kiss on the cheek and a cheesy compliment and have them swooning over him all week.
He'd heard a rumor once that a group of popular girls made a list of who would get to ask Harry out and in what order, all just hoping to squirm their way into his pants.
All so fucking cliché. Louis could vomit.
He wiggled his hands underneath his thighs to keep himself from biting at his nails. He was getting himself all worked up over having to bear a class with Harry Styles, and he was not going to give him that satisfaction, regardless of whether or not he knew.
The classroom looked like an art class. In fact, it probably was, and they let whoever the godforsaken teacher of this godforsaken writing class just use the room for one period a day.
The man himself walked in a full minute after the bell rang, carrying a computer bag and a stack of paper. He was young, definitely fresh out of college. A slightly tousled head of brown hair hung over his forehead a bit, and he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
"What's up guys, I'm sorry I'm late," he started as he set his things down on his desk. "I had to talk to my supervisor one last time before she let me teach this class."
He pushed himself onto his desk and sat facing the students, crossing his legs at his ankles. His eyes scanned the room for a moment, taking in the faces. It was a small class, about fifteen kids at most.
"Now, I'm sure you've all been told already that this is not a normal english class. First things first, you can call me Stan. No Mr. Lucas crap. I'm too young for authority terms. I'm, like, three years older than the majority of you, so I'd prefer if you called me by my first name."
Louis liked him.
"I'm not going to go into a big spiel about grades or worth ethic or any of that shit they shove down everyone's throats on the first day, so instead I'm just going to jump right into it." Stan reached behind him on the desk and picked up the stack of paper, hopping down to pass it out. "Your first assignment is an easy one. When I'm done handing out this paper, I'm going to take attendance. Pay attention to everyone's names."
His eyes lingered on Louis as he handed him his paper, a bit skeptical, before turning to go back to his desk and take out an iPad for attendance.
"Mia Allison?" Mia raised her hand shyly as everyone in class looked at her. She was beet red by the time Stan snorted and moved on.
He went through a few more names before reaching Niall.
"Niall Horan?"
"Here!" Niall accompanied his annoying wave with a wink, the girls in his immediate vicinity giggled.
More names.
"Harry Styles?"
"Here." Louis wanted to knock out Harry's stupid bunny teeth the second his mouth opened. Before he could, though-
"Louis Tomlinson?"
"Here."
He now understood why Mia had flushed so hard at the attention. The entire class turned in their seats to stare at Louis like he had ten heads. It was a bit dramatic, really.
He caught Harry's gaze, who smirked before turning back around in his seat. Louis rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.
Only two students were left after Louis. Once he submitted his form, Stan dropped his iPad onto the desk.
"I hope you all know each other's names, because now you will be making a list. I promise you that I will be the only person to see your list, so no worries. You are going to list every person in this classroom in order from who you like the least to who you like the most."
People looked around at each other quizzically.
"I told you guys this isn't a normal english class. Now get going, you have the rest of the period to figure it out."
With that, Stan plopped down into the chair behind his desk and watched on as students stared at each other around the room. Louis was already writing.
***
Thinking about it now, it was pretty weird. Like, what could that assignment possibly have had to do with anything? Seating arrangements? Class partners? So Louis did what he did best and didn't think about it.
That was until Liam called later that night and there was a lull in the conversation. Of course, Louis found himself taking a deep breath and giving him a detailed description of every aspect regarding the class.
"What kind of assignment is that?" Liam asked. Louis was sprawled out on his bed, his phone on speaker laying next to his ear.
"That's what I'm saying! And guess who's in that class!"
"Who?"
"Niall Horan and Harry Styles."
A few silent moments passed before Liam burst out cackling. Louis rolled his eyes.
"Guess Mr. Styles is number one on your hit list, then?"
"You guessed correct." He stretched his arms above his head and yawned right into the microphone. "Stan said he's going to tell us why he made us do it tomorrow."
"Yeah, what's with the first name thing?"
"No idea, man."
Louis complained for a few more minutes until he heard Lottie shouting for him from the kitchen. They said their goodbyes, Liam teasing Louis one last time about his situation. When he made it down to the kitchen, he smelt toast. He spotted Lottie standing next to the oven, inspecting a steaming casserole.
"What did you burn?" He asked. She glared at him over her shoulder.
"Nothing, dickhead. It's supposed to smell like that."
"Well what the fuck is it?"
At the best possible time, Jay entered the kitchen still dressed in her work uniform. She went on scolding them for their language before Lottie interrupted her with an all too cheery, "hi, Mom!"
Lottie shuffled away from her dish to make room for Jay, who nodded her approval. She turned to Louis, who was still planted in his spot against the doorway.
"Waiting to be served or something?"
He dragged himself over to the kitchen counter and Jay thumped him on the back of his head as he passed her. She then made her way upstairs to change out of her work clothes.
The second Jay sat down at the dining room table, now in her pajamas, Louis began his rant about the first day of senior year.
"I mean, the first name thing? Really?" Louis' eyes were bugging out of his head. Jay giggled.
He'd ended up failing at the whole 'don't think about the list' thing by the time he was curled up in bed later that night. He'd definitely been the only person in class who'd put Harry as his least favorite, no doubt about it. Never in all his years of knowing who Harry was had he ever met someone who hated him. Or even marginally disliked him, for that matter. In fact, he'd talked to far too many people who had an odd obsession with the kid. They treated him like some sort of god. It was painful.
He eventually drifted off to a place where he could punch Harry Styles in the face freely, and he was severely disappointed when he woke back up to reality the next morning.
***
So he was a teeny tiny bit excited to see what Stan had needed the lists for. No, not excited. Just curious.
Liam had to tell Louis to shut up three times during homeroom before he obliged. Louis was usually chatty with him, but today was too much for poor, poor tired Liam.
Louis was vibrating in his seat by the time last period rolled around.
"So I'm sure you're all just dying to know why I asked you to make those lists yesterday." Duh. "Before I tell you, I'm going to give you each a name of someone in this class."
The short blonde girl sitting next to Harry raised her manicured hand as Stan began passing out small pieces of paper.
"No questions."
Louis didn't miss the ever-so-slight smug smirk on Stan's face when he was passed his paper. He was only kind of surprised to see 'Harry Styles' written on it in blue ink.
"Alright, so most of you have just received the name of the person you wrote as your least favorite person in class," Stan started, leaning against his desk. "If it isn't the first person you put, then it's the second, or third, or someone near the top. What you are going to do with these names is super important. It is part of your year-long project."
Year-long project?
"Oh, calm down. It's not that huge. You're basically going to study the person you were assigned for the rest of the year. Watching how they do things, how they talk or write, how they interact with others. Their facial expressions. You can do some outside work, like see what they post on the internet or look into their family on Facebook."
So stalking?
"I know it sounds kind of like stalking." Louis smirked. "But I promise you, it's not. I will be the only one who sees your project, unless you decide to share it with your person at the end of the year."
As fucking if.
"I'd like to think of this as more of studying. Observing. You're going to study your person and take notes, do research. Whatever you need to do in order to create a list of 10 things you admire about them. Obviously I didn't have you study your favorite person because that would be too easy."
Admire. Admire? I want to hit Harry Styles with a bus!
"And I don't want cheesy one word responses. I want to know the truly fascinating quirks and traits about them and an explanation as to why you found them so interesting."
Louis was about to have a stroke. Right in the middle of class. He did not admire Harry Styles in the slightest.
"Who knows, maybe you'll realize that your least favorite person isn't that bad, after all."
He didn't even think about who had a piece of paper with his own name on it. All he could process was the fact that he had to pay even more attention to Harry stupid mother fucking Styles than he already did, which was, as eloquently put as possible, a burden.
Louis looked over at Harry, who was laughing at something Niall had said. He threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and his curls flopped with the motion. He needed a haircut.
Unease began to unfurl in Louis' stomach. He would never be able to make this list. He was going to fail this class.
"It'd be cool if the list was a progression," Stan pondered. "Like, in the beginning, you can tell you're not too fond of the person, and by the end you realize that they actually do have some admirable traits."
As. Fucking. If.
"This is called The Admiration Project. Remember that for when you title your list. I want at least two pages, and don't even think about telling your person that you were assigned to them!"
The Admiration Project. So fucking cheesy.
***
"There is nothing admirable about Harry fucking Styles, Liam! How am I supposed to do this?" Louis was whining from his spot in the passenger seat of Liam's car.
"Lou, it can't be that hard. Just go ask somebody who adores him. They'd probably give you plenty more than 10 things they love about him."
Liam had a good point. And Louis was never opposed to taking the easy way out. But something inside him was telling him to just suck it up and do it. So, he was going to prove a point to himself. He could do it. Even if, in the end, he ends up wanting to rip his eyeballs out.
"I want to follow the rules."
Liam nearly crashed the car.
"Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?"
"Come on, Liam, I know it's going to make me want to put a bullet through my head, but I took the class for a reason. I wanted a challenge. This is quite the challenge, don't you think?" He was surprising himself with every word that tumbled out of his mouth. He really didn't know who he was trying to convince: Liam or his own brain.
"Alright, but I don't want to hear you complaining about how much you hate him on the daily. This is your decision."
"Oh, Liam, you're never going to hear the end of it. Just because I'm making good decisions doesn't mean that I'm going to like them."
Liam groaned as he pulled into the diner parking lot.
The familiar scent of the grease and french fries as they walked through the doors had Louis feeling a million times lighter.
Ever since freshman year, Liam and Louis had been going to Burger Girl Diner every Friday night. They rarely missed their Friday night hangout. The waiters and waitresses knew them like family. On the nights they were the busiest, which was usually right after the football games, Louis and Liam got special treatment. They had their own booth in the corner. The workers made sure that it was always unoccupied on Friday nights.
"Boys!" Shannon scrambled up from her seat at the hostess stand and pulled Louis and Liam into a tight hug. Her black hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail and she smelled of cinnamon. Her baby pink uniform clung to her figure, a prominent brown stain on her right shoulder, and she smoothed out her white apron when she released the boys from her death grip.
Shannon was a single mother in her mid-forties. Her husband had left her and taken her two sons with him right after the youngest was born. Louis had a soft spot for her because of it.
She walked them to their usual booth, not bothering to bring menus. The boys had it memorized from front to back. Louis could probably recite it with his eyes closed. Twice.
"The usual? Or going for something different tonight?" Shannon asked with her hands clasped behind her back.
"Usual, right Li?" Louis asked across the table. Liam nodded.
"Right, thanks Shannon!"
Louis sat criss-cross on the leather seat. This place was like his second home. He's surprised he hasn't taken up leaving his shoes by the door. Maybe he'll try that next week.
The boys fell into a casual conversation for a few minutes, Shannon bringing back their drinks and telling them the food would be ready momentarily.
Just when Louis forgot all about his dumb project, the door chimed and the loud, animated voice of Niall Horan boomed through the diner. Louis turned to look at who was entering, only to roll his eyes. Of course Harry was with him. Why wouldn't he be?
Louis and Liam trading glances and watched as Harry and Niall were seated a few tables away.
"Perfect seating arrangement, there. Might as well get started on your project right now, huh?" Liam mocked. Louis was facing Harry, who was wearing some kind of scarf around his head, holding his curls away from his face. Louis wanted to yank it off. Maybe pull out a razor and shave all his hair while he's at it.
"Ha-ha."
"You can put that dimple on the list. Everybody loves that."
Louis made a gagging noise.
"Never! That dimple is so ridiculous. All the girls drool over the thing. It's just a stupid dent in his face. What's so great about it?" Louis could imagine the steam coming out of his ears as he ranted.
Liam chuckled. Shannon came out a moment later with their food and Louis began his customary burger-eating ritual: two fries, drink, burger, drink.
As much as Louis tried to ignore Harry's presence, he couldn't stop himself from glancing at him here and there. Harry caught him once, and Louis could see the recognition flash through his eyes. He quickly looked away before Harry could reveal that annoying smirk of his.
"Would you quit scowling? You don't even know the kid. Maybe you guys could be friends if you gave him a chance."
Liam was right, and Louis hated it.
"Liam, you and I both know that one of your greatest qualities is seeing the good in people, but Harry is not good. I can guarantee it. Popular boys are only friends with other popular boys for a reason, and that's because they all suck." His tone had a pinch of finalty to it, so Liam let it be.
They finished their burgers in companionable silence. Shannon gave them the bill, and Liam handed her his card since it was his week to pay.
Before leaving, Louis spared one more glance at Harry. He found Harry already looking at him while Niall talked with his mouth full. Instead of his usual smirk, Harry gave Louis an actual smile. Just... a friendly smile. If Louis slightly reciprocated it, then no one had to know.
***
Louis sat behind his glowing computer screen for about three solid minutes without moving a muscle. Every other light in his house was off, and Lottie and Jay had both gone to sleep an hour ago. The hushed buzz of his overhead fan was the only noise.
The Admiration Project
by Louis Tomlinson
Subject: Harry Edward Styles
The number 1 was staring him in the eye, daring him to continue. He huffed out a sigh and began typing.