Chapter Six:
He was scared that he was losing himself, but at the same time, it seemed like the best thing that had ever happened to him. Weirdly, for those few minutes he’d spent teasing Louis – teasing! – he’d felt like someone else. As if he’d stepped out of his own nervous, introverted self for a moment and become someone new; someone who could take banter and give it back as easily as blinking; someone who wasn’t shy or scared and didn’t get knots in the pit of his stomach when he spoke to people he didn’t know; someone who wasn’t afraid to admit that maybe he liked boys in the way he was supposed to like girls, who had admitted it to himself and boldly decided it didn’t matter. Someone who met a guy on holiday and was so, so tempted to hook up with him even though he didn’t do that sort of thing; he didn’t speak to strangers; he didn’t fancy guys he barely knew…that wasn’t Harry Styles. At least, certainly not the Harry Styles that he knew himself to be.
Maybe this was a better Harry Styles. It frightened him, though; he’d come on the family holiday to do all the usual things – listen to music, think, shun the company of everyone who wasn’t a member of his own family, and walk quietly on the beach. Self-reinvention hadn’t exactly been on his list of planned holiday activities.
All these somewhat worrying thoughts chased mercilessly through his brain as he watched Louis cross the lobby from his secluded spot behind a rather ugly potted plant, peeping through the leaves and watching the older boy cheerfully wander through the room like he owned it. He waved coyly at the receptionist, Iris, awarded a winning smile to a gaggle of giggling girls squashed up on the sofa, and then flicked his hair out of his eyes and sashayed into the lift with one hand hanging neatly by his side and the other running sexily through his fringe, looking for all the world like a celebrity on the red carpet.
A soft snort from beside him made Harry jump, and he turned in surprise to find that someone had come and sat on the chair next to him, leaving a couple of inches between them because he knew Harry liked his personal space, and was lounging on the seat with ease. He nodded, more than most people could expect from him, but made no other attempt to greet the newcomer.
Liam had been working as a hotel bell boy since he was sixteen, and he and Harry had become sort of friends ever since running into each other on the beach one evening a couple of summers back – quite literally. An avid runner, Liam had been sprinting down the sands in one direction, while Harry shuffled forwards with his eyes glued to the floor in the opposite direction, headphones turned up full blast so that there was no way he could have heard Liam coming. As was unavoidable, Liam had collided with him, knocking him right over, and the two of them ended up flat on their backs on the floor, groaning, each with a rather nasty headache as their heads had banged together. Liam been full of apologies, but somehow, Harry had found the situation funny. He was so surprised at being knocked flying by a total stranger that he couldn’t help but laugh – from that moment onwards, Liam had been Harry’s friend, in a way.
They had struck up some form of acquaintance that took the form of a mutual silence more than anything else. Harry wasn’t usually the chatty type and Liam often had a lot of work to do, but they would not and sometimes exchange smiles in the corridors, and every now and then Harry would come and help Liam carry suitcases around, just for something to do. It was the closest thing to a real friendship he’d ever had. Apart from Louis, that was. And he felt so much more comfortable with Liam, mainly because he didn’t fancy him, but also because Liam knew Harry’s boundaries and was careful to keep them in place, whereas Louis seemed to almost derive pleasure in overriding them.
“He really is something, isn’t he?” Liam remarked in a low voice, nodding at where Louis had been mere moments ago, where Harry’s eyes still lingered. His employees’ badge had gone askew, and Harry felt an odd urge to straighten it. “You’d have thought he was the next Madonna, the way he walks. Like he’s wearing high heels!” Clearly, Liam itched to imitate Louis’ walk, which even Harry had to admit was quite funny. Liam wasn’t being unkind; he was simply making an observation, and a witty one at that. Allowing a wry smile to show that he was amused, Harry nodded in agreement before Liam spoke again.
“You like him, don’t you?”
“No!” His reply was instantaneous, automatic – he didn’t even have to think about it. He, Harry Styles, likesomeone? The very idea was preposterous. He was notorious on the resort for not liking anybody, even as a friend. Harry avoided company of any kind; he didn’t like people. It was something people took for granted now. Nobody tried coming on to him, or even speaking to him, and all the newcomers were warned off him. He was the weirdo, the outcast…he didn’t really mind. He preferred being shunned to being chased by people attempting to befriend him.
“You are allowed to like people, you know,” said Liam slyly, nudging him very lightly with his elbow. “Even I can see he’s pretty hot, even if he does walk like Kate Moss.”
Harry swallowed. “All right, then. Maybe I do like him…a little bit. But he makes me feel really weird – I just don’t get it. It’s like I’m more confident when I hang out with him. I feel different…like I’m not so scared any more. Like I can be me, and you know I’m no good at that. But I don’t understand how that works; he terrifies me! I don’t have a clue how I’m supposed to act around him, but I just…do. And it’s not me.”
“Sounds like he’s good for you, then. I know you like your privacy, but I worry about you sometimes. You’re not really a very social guy. It’s how you are, and that’s okay, but I think a bit of interaction would do you good. A confidence boost would be good for you.”
“He keeps asking me out,” Harry blurted out. Embarrassed, he ducked his head and examined the floor. “Like…down to the bar, for drinks and stuff. And I don’t know how to take it.”
“Say yes!” cried Liam, as if it was obvious. It probably would have been, to anyone other than Harry, who was almightily confused by the whole concept of agreeing to have a drink for a stranger he’d only met three or four days ago.
“But…I don’t know him.” He hated the way his voice was so close to a childish whine, but he couldn’t help it. That tone always creeped into his voice when he knew he was losing an argument – and oh, he was losing spectacularly.
“So get to know him!” Waving his arms enthusiastically in the air, Liam continued, “go for that drink, kid! Talk to him! Get to know what he’s like, make friends with him, ask stupid questions and completely embarrass yourself! Otherwise, how will you ever know him? A hot guy with a fantastic arse is coming onto you, mate; what are you doing with your life? You fancy him, he fancies you; go out with him, and if you don’t like him, turn him down again next time! Come on, Harry, he could be your soul mate!” He gestured dramatically, and Harry stared incredulously at him, trying to work out whether or not Liam was sending him up. Apparently, he wasn’t. “Next time he asks you, look coy and then say yes, and then tell me how it turns out.”
“And if I don’t?” God, he was teasing Liam now – his whole world had turned upside down! There was definitely something wrong with him.
After a pause as he acknowledged the banter in surprise, Liam said almost playfully, “If you don’t, then I’ll ask him myself.”
Harry blinked. “I didn’t know you were gay!”
There was a long pause while Liam struggled to decide whether to laugh or be confused by that statement; he chose laughter, and his incredulity came out in the form of a chuckle and a grin that spread across his whole face as he shook his head fondly at Harry, the picture of innocence, who was still staring at him open-mouthed at the revelation he was convinced Liam had just made. It took several long seconds for Liam to get a handle on his amusement and stop giggling at the shock on Harry’s face.
“No! That’s not what I meant!” Shaking his head, Liam explained, “I meant that I’ll ask him for you, idiot!”
“Oh.” Harry’s shock subsided a little. “No, don’t do that. He’ll hate me if he thinks I’m getting the bellboy to do my dirty work.”
Liam poked him lightly. “Hey. I’m not just the bellboy; I’m your friend, remember! And the guy fancies the pants off you; you could get your mum to ask him out for you and he’d say yes.”
“I need to do this myself, I think. I can’t get everyone else to do everything for me. I have to…”
“Grow some balls?” suggested Liam dryly.
Harry laughed. “If you like. I don’t want to make other people do things for me anymore. If Louis really is changing me, then maybe the least I could do would be to help him out – I could at least try and be a bit more…outgoing. You know.”
“Yeah,” Liam said softly. “I know. You just need to get some confidence, that’s all. It’ll come with time, Harry. I think maybe this guy might be good for you, you know. I’m not just saying that because you’d make a good couple, either. If he brings you out of your shell a bit…well, I’d like to see that happen. You’ve been a good mate of mine for two years, Harry; I’ve often wished you weren’t quite such a loner. No offence intended; I know it’s the way you are. But sometimes I think you can have too many boundaries, you know? It’s about time somebody broke through a couple of those walls.”
~*~
“Lou, I need to talk to you.”
It wasn’t very often that Stan was serious; he was renowned for making a joke out anything and everything. For that reason, and that reason alone, Louis haltered in his otherwise relentless pacing up and down the hotel room, unclasped his hands from behind his back and turned around to stare at Stan, who was sat on the edge of Louis’ bed, staring him down with a solemn expression which looked out of place on his usually mischievous face.
He wasn’t entirely sure when Stan had even come in; he’d been lost in thought, stalking up and down and frowning as he tried to figure everything out; unravel the mystery, as it were. Louis was confused, and he didn’t much like it. In fact, he had every intention of working it all out and never, ever being confused again. Actually, he was going to start work on thoroughly befuddling Harry Styles, just to settle the score. His plan had been to toy with Harry, and it appeared that Harry was toying with him. The tables had been turned, and weirdly, he was kind of enjoying it. However, refreshing as it might be, he certainly wouldn’t mourn when it was done; he didn’t much like being the weak one.
“Looks like you are talking to me.” His tone was sharp, and it stabbed the air between them like a needle; he regretted it almost instantly, and, closing his eyes, forced himself to take a calming breath. He asked a lot more evenly, “What’s up?”
“I think you know what’s up, Lou.” Concernedly, Stan’s eyes roved over him, as if he were trying to look straight inside his mind. It made Louis feel kind of uncomfortable, if he was perfectly honest. Discomfort and awkwardness were two sensations he was rapidly getting used to, and he was distinctly unimpressed by the fact. Surely his confidence couldn’t desert him just because a beautiful boy with green eyes had dared to tease him back!
“Well clearly I don’t, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.” He so wasn’t in the mood for Stan to interrogate him, or whatever other game he was playing.
Sighing heavily, Stan admitted, “I want to revoke the bet.”
Whatever Louis had been expecting him to say, it certainly wasn’t that. A frown etched across his forehead and he said slowly, incredulously, “I don’t follow.”
“It’s not exactly difficult to understand, Lou! It was meant to be a joke, that’s all; a stupid dare! I just wanted to see how quick you could get some rich chick in your bed, and when that Harry kid came wandering along, I wanted to see if you could get him. Just for a laugh! I didn’t realize you were going to get so…so obsessed with him!
Stung, Louis said “I’m not obsessed!”
“Lou. Let’s be serious. We’ve been here for almost a week now, and so far, all you’ve talked about is the kid – how fit he is and how much you want to bang him and how weird and cute and shy he is and how much he winds you up – it’s not normal, Lou! Maybe you’re bored and this is just a diversion, I don’t know, but I swear, you’ve got way too invested in this bet. So I take it back. All of it. You don’t have to have sex with him or talk to him or even look at him anymore. This was supposed to be a mates’ holiday, not a fortnight watching you stalk some posh twat with curly hair!”
“It was a blood oath,” Louis insisted, and his voice sounded odd; strangely hollow, like he was repulsedby the idea of giving up on Harry now. “No backsies.”
“Don’t be so pathetic, Lou. We’re not twelve. A blood oath is about as meaningful as a pinkie promise to us; just forget about the guy, and we’ll say no more about it. Yeah?”
“No,” answered Louis stiffly. “I happen to take pinkie promises seriously, actually. A promise is a promise. Anyway, I don’t want to quit. It’s not just a stupid bet anymore; the kid’s lonely, and he needs friends, and I want to help him, okay?”
“Help him? He doesn’t need help! He’s rich, he’s hot, he’s got family, he comes to places like this every holiday – how does that kid need help?”
“He’s lonely,” Louis responded, and his voice cracked embarrassingly as he said it. “I don’t think he realizes it yet, but he is. He needs someone to hang out with and maybe…maybe that someone could be me. I could help him!”
“God, you’re full of it. He’s a total stranger; he’s nothing to do with you, and here you are preaching about his mental issues and acting like I’m the one who’s been messing with him this whole time, like I’mthe one in the wrong.”
“So I realized there’s more to him than sex; what’s so wrong with that? People aren’t just toys, you know; they have personalities. It’s about time I remembered that. He’s amazing, and maybe we’ll be able to help each other. I kind of feel like we’ve got this thing, you know? Kind of like…we’re friends.”
“You don’t even know him!”
“Yeah, well maybe I want to know him!” Louis snapped. “He’s cute and funny and he’s different from all the other spoilt little rich brats around this place. Maybe it’s about time he met someone like me, someone who can actually teach him not to run away from everything. I think he might be learning already. He’s already started teasing me; the guy has a wicked sense of humour.”
“And how is you fucking him going to teach him not to run away from everything?” Stan demanded. He snorted in disgust. “Stop kidding yourself, Louis. You’re a heartbreaker; you always have been. It’s how you are. You take people and you screw them up, and you’ll do the exact same thing to this kid too, without even realizing it!”
Furiously, Louis yelled, “I never do that intentionally! People get attached! Anyway, you told me to go for him in the first place, remember? Don’t go preaching to me, Stan Lucas; you’re as bad as I am for picking people up and seeing how badly they’ll break, how hard you have to drop them to make them shatter. So you shut up, and you shut up right now, because you may be too thick to figure it out, but maybe this kid is the kid who’ll change things. Maybe he’ll stop me from being such a –”
“Slut?”
The word was said in the heat of the moment, and it slashed viciously between them like a sword, making them both flinch. They’d called each other many things in the past, but never that. So they enjoyed messing about, what teenage boy didn’t? But neither of them had ever said anything so harsh, probably because Louis was so afraid that it might be true. Enough people had said it to him in the past. Chanted it after him in the street, with wolf-whistles to accompany it. Look, there goes Louis, Louis the slut. He hooks up with chicks in clubs and guys too, if they’re hot. He isn’t fussy. He’s that much of a slut. He’d always pretended not to hear, but now…
Mouth falling open in shock, an appalled Stan backed away a little bit, trembling, like he was horrified at himself. He shook his head in confusion like he had misheard, like there was something wrong with his ears and he was trying to clear them. Toffee-brown hair fell messily across his forehead as he did so, and Louis glowered at him with something painfully close to hatred. Slut. The one word he’d always been afraid of, because he was so scared that maybe he was one. It stung, like he’d grabbed a handful of thistles and swallowed them; his throat prickled and so did his eyes. Ridiculous. One word had affected him so strongly that he was close to tears. He swallowed very hard, shaking his head too, dazed by Stan’s spiteful accusation. For a while, they stood in silence, Stan biting his lip so hard that it turned white, and Louis shaking all over with a mixture of anger and upset; he was both offended and shocked that Stan would say it. Now he was wondering, did Stan think that too? Did he watch Louis walk down the street and think ‘there he goes, the filthy slut!’ when outwardly, he would smile and wave? Louis shook like a leaf at the very thought that his best friend might have been hating him all the while. That he had given him a dare which involved sex, because hey, sex was nothing to a slut like him! That Stan thought the same thing as all the rest.
His ears burned.
“I didn’t mean –” Stan began weakly. “I didn’t mean it…like that.”
“Oh, yeah? Funny, because last time I checked, ‘slut’ still meant the same thing it always has.”
“Yeah, but I – I didn’t mean to say it!” cried Stan wretchedly. He looked horrified at himself.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the insult of choice for most fourteen year old girls these days…but that’s you all over, isn’t it? You always were a bitch.” Louis would regret the words later, but now? Now, they feltgood. He was on fire, the nastiness filling him from the inside out, overflowing, and he was completely uncontrollable. His temper had always been a force to be reckoned with.
“Louis, please. I don’t want to fall out with you over something as stupid as this.”
What gave Stan the right to be so bloody reasonable? He’d started the argument in the first place – words hurt, and that word especially, the word that girls had whispered behind his back as he passed and that people had hissed from behind their hands, knowing full well that they could hear him perfectly. He had gotten used to it, really; after all, it wasn’t like he hadn’t earnt that particular piece of slander. But from his own best friend? It hurt.
“I think it’s a bit late for that – and I don’t think it’s stupid at all, actually. If you think I’m such a big slut, why don’t you go and make friends with a nun? I’m sure there’s plenty of them around here. If not, you could always go and find a convent.”
“Oh, come on, Lou, don’t –”
Snatching up his jacket off the bed, Louis stalked over to the door with a scowl plastered across his face. He yanked the door open so hard that he was surprised he didn’t pull it straight off its hinges, and held it open very pointedly. When Stan stayed rooted to the spot with a pleading expression on his face, Louis punctuated the gesture with an irritable little cough.
“I’m going for a walk. If you’re still here by the time you get back, then I’ll be a murderer as well as a slut.” Then he coldly walked out, slamming the door behind him, and leaving a dismayed Stan standing in the middle of his room with a downcast expression on his face.