Prologue
"Hey, Water Boy!"
I was used to hearing that on a daily basis. The lovely nickname was usually followed by an order for a clean towel or a cup of water. Well, at least those were the orders in front of the coach or another adult. Otherwise, the team would take advantage of the fact that I was just their useless and obedient water boy.
Who could really blame them? I pretty much let them have their way with me because I never wanted to let down the team. Some of the players have put it in my head that having me do all of these things for them made me an official member of the team, like I was a part of the football team's brotherhood.
I've done many things that I wasn't proud of. Hell, some of the things I was too embarrassed or nervous to even accomplish but I did them anyway. It was all for the team, right? Each time one of the lads threw their dirty uniforms on me and told me not to smell them, I thought nothing of it because I knew they were just being boys, but when they once convinced me that the soap was in the girls' change room, and they would try to hold in their sneer snickers, I knew they were just messing with me.
Of course, like the naive mule that I was, I went across the gym and right into the girls' change room. It was completely against school policy, hell, public policy. I could have easily gotten into serious trouble for doing so. God must have been watching out for me because, luckily, there were no authorities to catch me. The girls, however, weren't absent and they weren't the only ones who were terrified.
I was frozen and skittish as soon as I heard the first scream. I immediately slapped one of my hands over my eyes, being my polite self and not wanting to see what was underneath the uniforms or the white cotton towels. The girls weren't expecting their privacy to be interrupted. All I could hear was the mixture of laughs and screams telling me to leave and that I was a disgusting toad. As I ran right out of the change room, my face completely red from embarrassment, I tried to stutter out my apologies. I tripped over my own two feet, the echoes of their screams still taunting me as I buried my face into my arms, breathing heavily and staring at the ground.
I couldn't believe what I had done.
I couldn't believe I fell for it.
When I looked up, I saw the faces of Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson smirking down at me, their arms proudly and dominantly crossed over their broad chests. Zayn reached down and gave me a rather firm pat on my back as he let out a bellowed laugh.
"I didn't know you were such a pervert, Water Boy."
A few others who just came from the change room joined in on Zayn's taunting laugh. I was completely humiliated and nobody seemed to care because that's how they wanted me to feel, like I was nothing but their water boy; their slave to brainwash into thinking he'd one day be accepted. It was in that moment that maybe I didn't want to be accepted by them or be their little bitch anymore.
But there was one player on the team that I actually wanted to impress.
As I looked up, holding back my tears, I noticed him in the background. He was still in his football jersey and shorts as he stared at the scene playing out before him. He just stood there doing nothing but the look in his eyes told a different story. He looked angry and I couldn't tell if it was with his teammates; his brothers, or if the negativity was towards me.
His name was Harry Styles. He just so happened to be the captain of the Holmes Chapel varsity football team. He was very stern and hard on the boys when their main focus wasn't on the sport yet, at the same time, he sometimes went along with what the others did because he didn't like when Zayn or Louis would tell him that he needed to loosen up.
I remember when I saw him on the first day of tryouts. He was a very talented player and I was in awe as I watched him on the field. That was probably what distracted me from my own tryout. I would stumble or fumble any chance that I got. I knew that the others, and more so, Harry were watching me and my mistakes. I loved the sport but on that particular day, it didn't love me back. I ended up not making the team but I still wanted to be part of it in any way that I could. I asked the coach if there was anything that I could do to still be involved. That's when I learned about the position of being the water boy, or the coach's aide. Of course, I took the job. It wasn't only so I could remain in football in some way. I also wanted to watch Harry grow as a football player, not that he needed to because he seemed like a natural from the get-go. He had heart and I wanted to keep seeing him.
I doubt he saw me in the same light. That was probably for the best because I've probably made it seem like I was obsessed with him or something. I wasn't. He was just an intriguing soul and a damn good football player. Excuse me for wanting to continuing spectating on such a talent.
Just like the others, I never really spoken to Harry and he has never spoken to me. The only time he ever opened up his mouth to me was to say, the ever so familiar: "Hey, Water Boy!"
My name is Niall Horan but I couldn't bring myself to tell him that. My real name didn't seem to matter to anybody anyway.
Plus, he's the star player and all I am is the water boy. Nobody would want to be seen taking any sort of interest with the pathetic water boy.
And just like the others, Harry turned his back on me and walked right back into the change room, leaving me to fend for myself on the floor of the gymnasium.