CHAPTER ONE
“Mom, I’m not really sure I want to go with Dad. I know I made a commitment already, but I don’t really like boxing.” I said nervously.
“Louis, you’ve never been to a game, you’ll never know if you like it unless you go. Plus, your father’s really looking forward to spending time with you.” She told me.
“He’s looking forward to it? That’s a fucking lie; he’s pretty much hated me since I came out last year!”
“Louis, language! And I know honey, I know, but he didn’t hate you, he was just surprised and upset that his only son is actually gay... We never expected it.”
“Well, that sucks for him because I am.” I retorted.
“Louis William Tomlinson, language; and I’m not going to say it again!”
I rolled my eyes and scoffed, walking away from her. I wasn’t looking forward to this boxing match at all, mostly because it would mean being next to my semi-homophobic father for the whole day. Although, there was some good that came out of it; I’d get to see sweaty, shirtless guys; and hopefully hot ones at that.
I got dressed in my bedroom, picking an outfit that consisted of black skinny jeans, a graphic tee shirt, and converse sneakers. With a little time to spare, I turned on my iTunes playlist and kicked back on my bed.
Over the music there was a loud knock at my door. "You almost ready to go Lou?"
"Yeah dad, I'll meet you in the car." I said, turning off my music and grabbing my phone, keys, and then quickly checking my appearance in the mirror. After deciding I looked alright, I hustled down and out, yelling a loud 'goodbye' to my mother and jumping in the passenger seat of my dad's Camaro.
The first ten minutes of the car ride was filled with unhealthy silence, but then my dad spoke up. "You know son, I'm not mad at you. You can love who you want to love, I'm just-"
"Save it." I spoke. "You screamed at me the day I told you."
"Lou, you gotta listen..."
"Nope," I said, blocking my ears in a childish manner. As my father continued to speak, I made noises to show an immature uninterest in what he had to say. "La la la la la."
My father huffed, turning his focus back to the road, where it should've been all along. "I support your desicion."
"Desicion? You think I chose to be gay? To go through all the bullying, and self-hatred? Ha! You really don't get it, do you?" I shook my head, laughing at him in disbelief. "I was born this way dad."
"Whatever, you know what I mean Louis. I support you being a homosexual."
"Thanks." I said simply, but inside I was actually really flattered that he said that. I never would have though the day would come when he'd tell me that, but here we are; it really happened!
After another fourty minutes of driving, we finally reached the stadium. Luckily, it was indoors and air-conditioned, because it was almost ninety degrees out, and I wouldn't have been able to survive sitting outside for so long.
"Our seats are out there, section two, row c, seats thirty-four and thirty-five." My dad said, pointing out towards where our seats were located. "Here's your ticket to get in; I'll meet you after I use the restroom."
I nodded and walked down to my seat. I saw people give me dirty looks as I walked; probably because of the tee-shirt I was wearing, that said "Same Love" across it in a rainbow heart. Yes, I was supporting Macklemore's famous song.
"Fag," a man, not too much older than me 'coughed.' "Little gay boy."
Ignoring his rude, immature comments, I didn't dare to even look at him as I passed by. Finally I reached my seat, slumping down a little, to be comfortable, and to hide. I crossed my arms about my chest, hiding the heart on my shirt. Although I should be showing off my shirt, for gay pride and all, I didn't. In fact, I was really self concious about my sexuality. I didn't want to draw any attention to myself; why did I even wear this shirt?
I pulled my phone from my pocket, checking for texts. There was one from my mother that read: "Have fun honey, please try not to fight with your dad."
I replied with a "Too late." and shoved the iPhone back into my pocket when my dad came and sat next to me. "About time." I huffed.
"Louis, please listen to me." He started, sounding truly sympathetic. "You know that I've never been a huge supporter of gay rights and such... But, for you, I can make an exception. I may not love the fact that my only son is gay, but I do love my only son, so I do support you, okay? I'm sorry for all the conflict over the past few months."
"Thanks dad, that... It really means a lot." I said, accepting his apology. "I'm sorry too."
He pulled me in for a hug, telling me again how he's sorry. He pulled away right as the announcer came on. "Welcome ladies and gentlemen!"
I waited for the first match to be announced. "In this corner we have Shane Mosley weighing in at 180 pounds, and in this one, Anthony Rodriguez at 210."
"Who do you think will win?" I aske my dad, knowin nothing at all about this sport.
"Well, even though Mosely's thirty pounds lighter, he has more muscle than Rodriguez... So, Mosely." He hypothesized.
I nodded, turning back to the ring. Rodriquez threw the first few punches, one after another, after another before Mosely threw one back, and then kicked him in his upper thigh. He went to kick him again, but Rodriguez caught his ankle. Soon after, Rodriguez was announced the winner.
We had to wait ten minutes for the next fight, but when the announcer came back on, the crowd went wild. "In this corner we have George Danvers, weighing in at 185 pounds, and in this one, Harry Styles weighing in at 160."
"Who do you want to win?" My father asked me.
"Uh, I want the Harry guy to win." I said, my gaze focused on the boy in the ring. His long brown curls were already sweating... I bet he was working out back there before now. He had a perfect an impressive aray of abs across his stomach, making mine fill with butterflies.
Harry threw the first punch, and then a few more. The other guy, I don't even remember his name, threw some back, and the fight started getting intense. Punch after punch, Harry made my stomach toss itself around in my body.
Laughing at how much I was paying attention to the particular fight, my father asked: "You fancy the Harry boy, don't you?"
"No, I just... Like boxing... It's intense." I lied, feeling my cheeks heat up though. My father laughed again, rolling his eyes at me. I bit my lip, continuing to watch the hot curly haired boy throw punches. After a mere twenty minutes, he was crowned the winner of the match, and I stood up and cheered for him, clapping loudly. I got a few stares from people around me, including my father. Embarrassed, I sat back in my chair and shut my mouth.
"You just like boxing." He laughed once more, mocking my lie.
There was one more match before the intermission that I'd watched after Harry won, but I wasn't really paying attention; I was busy thinking about Harry, his hair that looked ever so soft, and his toned abs that I'd give anything just to touch, or even just to see up close."
At the end of the last match, the two other winners stood in the ring with the third, and also with the announcer, who announced: "These three men, myself, and our referee James Gold will be going about the five sections, each giving away a family backstage passes for tonight's show." Hearing him say that put butterflies in my stomach. I crossed my fingers in my lap, hoping that I would get them from Harry. "Anthony Rodriguez, section one. Harry Styles, section two; Rick Hudson, section three; I'll take four, and James, you, five."
A smile plastered on my face, I watched Harry as his eyes fluttered, searching for a lucky member of the gigantic crowd. I knew that I would never be picked, but it was my biggest wish at the moment.
Suddenly, his beautiful eyes shot over at me. I examined them with my own; his eyes were green, like emeralds. The color of his eyes was almost as pretty as his face, but not quite. My heart started beating at a rapid pace (I thought it was going to break my ribs.) as I noticed Harry walking closer, towards me!
“I like your shirt,” he said as he approached me, smiling. My eyes widened at him, thinking, was he- no he couldn’t be; he’s too masculine. He pointed to my father, asking, “is this your dad?”
I nodded shyly. Though I felt my cheeks heating up (Probably turning the shade of ripe tomatoes) I ignored it, only focusing on Harry.
“I’m Harry, uhm, here are your passes. See you after the rest of the show.” He said clumsily choking on his own words. I giggled, taking them from his hand. Our hands touched for about two seconds, and even though it was such a small amount of time, I was satisfied. His hands were warm and soft, and inviting.
“Lou,” my dad caught my attention back from my day dreams. “Ha, you don’t fancy him, okay.”
I blushed again. “He’s cute.” I admitted.
My father smiled. “Want to get a bite?” I nodded, following behind him as he led me to a food stand inside the gift shop. As we walked past all the merchandise, my father pointed to a Harry Styles shirt. “You want this?” He laughed.
I laughed along with him, but replied, “Yes actually, I should show support for my future husband.”
My father shook his head, still laughing. I was surprised he didn’t call me out for that! Maybe he wasn’t as homophobic as I thought? We grabbed some burgers and french fries, then headed back to our seats in the stadium.
An hour and a half could not pass fast enough. I wasn’t even paying attention to the matches going on. I was more focused on what witty jokes and pick up-lines I’d be using on Harry tonight.
“Louis,” my father shook me. “Wake up, the show’s over.” I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep... That’s embarrassing. “Would you like to go visit you ‘future husband’ now?” He asked, mocking me with a chuckle.
I smirked, nodding my head. My dad and I left our seats and went down in line with the rest of the ‘chosen ones’ as I like to call them.
I saw Harry as he came towards me again, pushing through the line of fans. "Hi, I didn't get your name." He smiled.
"Louis, uh, Louis Tomlinson."
"Louis," he repeated. "I like that name. So, uh, Louis, thanks for coming tonight."
I smiled, nodding. My father looked at his phone, pretending to read a text message. "I have to call your mum, I'll be in the car, just, come out whenever you're done." He winked at me.
Wow, he really did support me. I was so wrong about him being a homophobe. I actually, felt kind of bad.
"He's not really talkin to your mum, is he?" Harry laughed.
I laughed with him. "Nah, I don't think so."
After Harry and I talked for a little while, my dad sent me a text saying to hurry up; I hadn't realized we were talking for a half an hour!
"Harry it's been really great talking to you," I smiled. "But my dad just told me to hurry up, so we might as well say goodbye now."
"Wait, Louis." Harry pulled a necklace from the pocket of his athletic shorts and placed it in my hand, holding it there for a good five or so seconds. His touch sending tingles down my spine, I shivered, pulling away on accident. Harry somehow understood, smiling and giggling at me. "Uhm, would you like to come to the next show with me?"
"With you?" I looked at him, confused.
"Yeah, instead of your dad bringing you, I could. You seem, nice, I... I want to get to know you." He said almost shyly.
"Uh, uh sure. Yeah, that'd be cool. When is it?"
"Next Saturday at eight. I know it's late, but you'd be home by one!" He laughed. "I'll pick you up at the Starbucks off of Main Street, yeah?"
"Yeah, that'd be great." I smiled. "I'll see you there."
I happily walked back to my car, jumping into it. "Somebody's happy." My dad chirped. I smiled, sitting back in the seat, trying to relax. I couldn't though; I was too busy with the thoughts in my head and butterflies in my stomach. It was a satisfying feeling though... I liked it.
A/N; Hey guys! It's Kaity. (@fcknghoran) I hope you liked my chapter, despite how long it is... I really didn't expect it to be so long! I wrote it on my phone though, so it may actually seem longer on my phone, idrk. Craziness, anyways, yeah! So give this chapter a vote, leave a comment and then Claire will write the next chapter! (: