The match went back into action a few minutes after Harry was brought back to safely perch on the bench. The athletics nurse made a temporary stability wrap around his knee, so the sight of Harry not being carried out on a stretcher and driving to the hospital calmed my nerves down some. He was still in pain so I was not settled worry-free.
I had a hard time focusing on the match because my eyes would glance over to Harry, wondering how he was feeling and wondering what he was thinking. I knew that he hated not being able to be on the field playing. Guilt and anger must have been boiling inside of him because every peek I took over at him let me know that he wasn't even watching the match himself. Instead he was picking at his dirty fingers, all his focus was now directed to trying to mutilate his fingers.
"Oh, come on boys!"
I flinched when I heard Coach shout at the team. He, too, was quite upset that his star player was now injured and unable to continue playing. Hopefully, Harry would recover from this soon.
My eyes shifted back to the field to see what he was fussing about. I guessed it was because of Louis losing the strong possession that we were having over the ball. For the type of person who has power over people the ball shouldn't have been a problem for him, for it's an emotionless existence, unlike myself.
"Fuck, Louis." I heard Harry grumble, his watchful green eyes finally taking a chance on the team.
The admiration from the captain didn't last long. Soon after the ball had switched in ownership, Louis was flagged for unsporting-like behavior. Unwilling to let the opposing player get the better of him, Louis decided to try and sneak a trip as if the officials weren't going to pay any attention to him. It wasn't like he was trying to trip me; he was going to be caught and punished for it accordingly.
I didn't happen to pay any attention to one of my bully's forth-comings or the coach's obscene shouting because, from the corner of my eye, I noticed Harry's injured leg taking a swing off of the bench. His football cleat planted firmly onto the ground next to his other and his clenched fists dug into the bench, bony knuckles digging into the engraved steel.
"Styles, you sit your arse back down on that bench." The coach had turned and pointed to him.
Harry shook his head as he used all his strength just to stand up. He ended up stumbling right afterwards, faithfully catching his own self. "I don't want to see or hear this shit anymore."
I looked over to the coach, both of us knew that Harry wasn't going to be able to make it all the way back to the change room on his own. He could even end up injuring his knee more than he already has. Neither of us were willing to risk that. So, I have no idea what came over me, maybe I grew a little bit of courage, when I stood up and said, "I'll take him."
Now, let's do a comparison here. It took the coach, Michael, and Liam to just help Harry over from the field to the bench. I, in no way, have the same muscular structure as any of the boys on the team and I had just offered to walk Harry all the way back to our change room inside of the school and with an incline of a hill. Harry might as well be injured and be carrying me back after I effortlessly collapsed down from walking him.
He let out a frustrated sigh. "You better be careful with him."
I slowly nodded, wishing that I had the same confidence I had only seconds ago. I glanced over to Harry, who was watching us and now waiting for his scraggly knight in sweatpants. My feet might as well have had anvils tied down to them but I knew that Harry didn't want to be around this anymore.
Niall, you're gonna have to wrap your arm around Harry's waist. Do not act like it's a huge deal.
I walked over to Harry and felt his weighted arm as he draped it around my shoulders, the warmth and sweat of his forearm sticking to the back of my neck. As he leaned himself onto me my own arm wrapped around his waist. At first, I did my best to try and stay as high onto his back as I possibly could, but as we started to walk I felt my hand glide down his back. I couldn't help but swallow when I felt a heated sensation completely wash over me. It grew as soon as Harry had to press his side against mine and my natural reaction was to hold onto his waist tighter with my hand.
I could only pray that I could make it back to the school without my body hinting to Harry that I was enjoying our contact a bit too much.
"Take it easy." I tell him, and maybe myself a little.
I looked down at our feet, his cleats and my sneakers taking our steps, our strides not in sync. Harry stumbled every so often which threw off our balance. I would even flinch and try to catch him. My neck and lower back were starting to feel sore from Harry's weight pushing down onto me.
"Do you need a break?" He muttered to me, stopping midway between the hill and our school.
"N-no."
I didn't want him to see how weak I was, well, he's already seen that thanks to me not being able to take on Zayn and Louis' antics.
He sighed and shook his head, grumbling something about being better off just hopping all the way back by himself. He didn't need me.
The rest of our way up included more of Harry losing his balance and him grunting in frustration every single time he couldn't complete a simple step. I felt bad for him. I knew he'd much rather be playing than suffering just to walk away from what he loved doing. I tried my best to fight wanting to glance over to see if he was doing okay. I knew that keeping my mouth shut was also for the better, even thought I felt the need to want to give him encouragement when he was able to take at least eight steps without breaking his stride. Yeah, I kept count.
He made it his own mission to open the door for us, not wanting to seem completely helpless in the situation. Then we hobbled over to the gymnasium doors, which were heavier than athletics entrance. The last of our haul was getting into the change room, where I had no idea where to go from.
But I knew I had to stay because this was where I witnessed the second downfall of Harry tonight.
I jumped, practically letting out a hushed gasp as I heard a loud smash followed by a loud cursing growl. I quickly walked down the rows of lockers, looking down every set until I made it to Harry's. I couldn't tell what he had done but I noticed that he was now sitting on the floor, his head bowed down and his hands griping at his thick hair, pulling it. One of his hands displayed white knuckles from his grip and his other one was red, with scrapes. His shoulders were hunched high, pressing against the bottoms of his earlobes. I couldn't tell if he were crying or not but I really hope that he wasn't.
I didn't want him to lift his head up and see me standing there, staring at him in shock.
The next thing I knew I was sitting down next to him. My arm brushed against his. I was thankful that I was wearing long sleeves. I turned my head to look at Harry. Seeing him this upset so close was actually heartbreaking. I literally could feel this painful lurching in my chest at the sight of him.
He raised his head from his lap, his hands falling to harshly wipe away the welled up tears in his reddening eyes. His brow was furrowed and his face almost matched the shade of red that graced over his knuckles.
I stayed silent still, hoping that we could understand each other just by our body language. I had many moments in my life where I felt the need to just breakdown. I never seemed to actually do it because I didn't feel like there was a point. Nobody actually cared to notice me until recently.
"It's not your fault." I say softly, my voice cracking from the lack of words I've spoken.
His face asked me, 'How would you know? How are you so certain?'.
Because I have a crush on you.
Because I thought you might need the reassurance.
Because I'm the water boy. It's my job to help you.
I was more like a wallflower than just the water boy tonight. It wasn't a question I wanted to answer because I didn't want to make him feel worse. I actually didn't know what to even say to him. Just being able to talk to him like this was comforting enough for me, yet it wasn't even about me tonight. I wanted Harry to feel better but there was something about him being vulnerable and true that made me feel so much more into him that I didn't want to take advantage and cross any lines.
I wanted to be able to pull my sleeve over my pale hand and brush it against the brims of his eyes to have his tears soak up into the material. I wanted to be able to wrap my arm around him and pull him into me so he could just cry into my chest. I wanted to place a kiss into his soft hair to let him know that I was here for him and he was not a disappointment.
I couldn't do all those things that I wanted.
He was still Harry Styles and I was still me.
He still saw me being bullied and did nothing.
He didn't even know my name or that I was in love with him.
Just as Harry was about to part his lips to tell me something he drew back, actually he scooted away from me and used the wooden bench as a crutch to help him up, leaving me by myself again. The door to the change room had opened. As the rest of the boys piled back into the change room, smelly and defeated from the apparent loss written on their faces, the emotions in Harry had shut down. He now stood upright, fiddling with his locker and pretending to be busy so none of the boys bothered him, including myself.
I didn't wallow in self pity, or even pity for him, for too long. I knew that Zayn and Louis would probably say something to me if they saw me sitting at Harry's feet and I wasn't in the mood to let them have the satisfaction this time.
Instead, I went back to being the water boy.
I got the linen cart ready for all of the dirty rolled up uniforms that the boys would be throwing either in it or at me. The boys were no longer rowdy as they once were before and shamelessly tossed their sweaty uniforms into the linen cart before leaving the change room and going off home, or wherever else they went after matches. Louis and Zayn were still themselves though. They didn't take the traditional way out. Instead one of them held my head in their hands as the other took the uniforms and rubbed them in my face, gagging and choking me with the foul and sour odor of their body sweat, grass, and dirt. I wanted to vomit. They laughed as the clothes were finally dropped into the hamper and a hand ruffled through my hair before they walked away from me. More uniforms were dropped in simultaneously. Liam came by and sent me a soft smile as he threw his in, patting me on the shoulder as his silent way of saying goodbye. I was still waiting on one uniform: Harry's.
Harry still hadn't turned his uniform in and I was sure he was the only one left. Maybe he was being checked out by the athletics' nurse or maybe he was with the coach. I didn't know if I should give him so more time and wait or if I should just go over to his locker and check on him.
I decided to go back over to him.
His position had luckily changed since I was cast aside. He was now sitting on the bench in just his briefs. My breath caught in my throat and not from the realization that he was barely wearing any clothes and I got to see one of my favorite features of him: his back. I could see where he was directly hit. It wasn't bruising just yet but he was sporting a rather large welt. It sat right on his rib cage, along his elongated side.
Harry turned his head when he heard my footsteps. His face was no longer red from being on the verge of crying actual tears. Instead, it was almost solemn. His hand was still pretty beat up but it sat slightly intertwined with his other in his lap lazily instead of being knotted in his hair. I wish that it was our hands conjoined so I could gently run my thumb over his ripped up knuckles, lifting his hands to my lips so I could barely kiss each one too.
He spoke his first words to me, words that threw me off guard.
"You mind helping me over to the showers?"
My tongue twisted in my mouth as I responded nervously. "Ye-yeah. It's no problem."
Oh, it so was a problem.
I walked over to him again, mentally preparing myself for the fact that my hand was going to be touching Harry's bare side. I stood there like a coat rack waiting to be buried under coats and hats as. I leaned over to help Harry stand up but he shook his head at me.
Once he was up and hand his arm back around my shoulders, I stiffly moved my arm. My hand was sweating from my radiating nerves. I really hoped that I wasn't blushing right now. Once my clammy hand was placed on him, I pulled back upon hearing him hiss out.
"A-are you okay? Did I hurt you?" I asked, concern flashing through my voice.
"No," he shook his head as he winced. "You're holding onto the side where I was hit."
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to press down so hard. I-"
"It's fine. Could you just get me over to the shower now?"
"Um, yeah. Sure."
Great job, you hurt the star. You're an idiot.
Okay, you're going to start walking now. Do not let your fingers caress his side.
We began walking again and to stop myself, I balled my hand into a fist. Now, it was only my wrist touching his side. I never knew that just being able to feel someone else's skin against my own would make my heart literally pound against my chest, that being in such a proximity to another person could turn me into a mindless mess.
"You smell like you've been playing hard." Harry spoke out of the blue.
Maybe it's from my own sweat from being so close to you like this and not because of your friends shoving their toxic stench into my face.
This would mark the second time that Harry has smelt something on me that wasn't even mine.
I let Harry use the wall as a guide as he scrambled over to the nearest shower head. I set a towel down next to his briefs, which I turned away from so I couldn't see his private area. I wasn't going to have him think I was some kind of pervert. Plus, I already saw him practically raw with emotion so seeing him fully sheathed naked wasn't in the cards.
"Just shout for me when you need my assistance."
I quickly walked away to my own locker, running my hands through my hair and letting out a long deep breath that I've been holding in. What was going on with me lately? It was all too much, whatever it was. I needed to catch my composure before I walked back over to Harry again. I let out a few more breaths and gave myself my own little pep-talk to scold myself that this wasn't a big deal and that I shouldn't be acting like a girl. He was my crush, though. How else was I supposed to react? I wasn't exactly "manly" to begin with so I just had to stick with acting awkwardly sane.
I stood near the showers as I waited for Harry again and my phone buzzed in my pocket. I frantically dug it out of the thick pocket of my sweatpants. It was my mum, probably wondering where the hell I was.
"Yeah?"
"I was expecting you to be home by now. Did the match go into overtime or something?"
"No, we lost." I scratched the back of my neck, hoping that Harry didn't have to hear it.
"Awe, I'm sorry about that, Sweetie."
I rolled my eyes. "It's fine, mum. I'll probably just walk home since it'll be late. It's not too far from the school."
"Do you need a lift home?" Harry cut it, with his briefs back on and his body dripping with water. He was now toweling out his hair but the water still cascaded down the flat planes of his torso, all the way down to his toned legs.
I could only nod to him before clearing my throat to tell my mum words I've never thought I would ever say. Unless, I never even made it home after climbing into a team member's car. "Never mind, I'll get one of the boys to drop me off."
I was able to hang up after she told me that she'd see me when I got back. Harry was now dressed in his white undershirt from his mandatory dress shirt for games and a pair of black sweatpants, similar to my grey ones. I was going to tell him thank you and the directions to my flat but he probably didn't give a shit enough to remember. I never thought I'd ever have to give away the directions to my safety. At least, it wasn't Zayn or Louis.
I went for what I would usually use as an excuse, my water boy position.
"You don't really have to take me home. I still have to run the laundry down to be done for Monday. I mean, you're the captain of the team and I'm sure people are waiting around for you."
He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "I don't really want to be around anyone right now if you remember my little mental breakdown earlier."
I chuckled nervously because he could still put up with me being around him. Then I even tried to joke but in complete honesty. "We're all entitled to those every one in awhile."
He seemed to ignore what I had to say. "I'll wait for you."
All I could do was nod and push that linen cart down to the school's basement in record time and return to take a walk to the car lot side-by-side with Harry.
"I don't live too far from here." I told him as I played with my seat belt.
"I know. You've told me about three times now." He said with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on his thigh.
Of course, I imagined that it was either on my own thigh or that I could reach over and grab his hand.
"How's your hand?"
He glanced down to it and then back to the road again. "It stings a bit but what do you expect from a blow to a locker?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
I am the king of being lame.
After a few more blocks, I was able to point out my house to Harry. "This is me." I said as he slowed his car down to a complete stop. I continued on to thanking him as I removed my seat belt, sending him a small smile as I opened the door. I was about to get out when Harry stopped me.
"Hey, um, Water Boy?"
There it was and he wasn't even around his teammates when he used. This is a new low. I was just getting used to kind of being able to breathe around Harry and he has to go and drop that degrading name.
But I couldn't help but sit back down in Harry's car and turn to face him, curious into what he wanted either to tell me or even from me. It better not be anymore extra practicing, especially now that he's hurt. I was preparing myself to tell him a firm 'no' but the answer to his question was far from that.
"This is going to sound stupid, but what's your name?" He asked me before running his tongue over his soft lips. His eyes looked directly into mine in the dark car.
He wanted to know my name. Harry Styles wanted to know my name. I was going to be able to tell Harry my name and that's what he was going to call me from now on. I was going to be able to hear his throaty rasp speak my name.
Dearest tongue, don't fail me now.
It's Niall Horan.
"Um, I'm Niall, Niall Horan." I told him as I climbed out, my hand hanging onto the open door as I looked down to him.
All he did was nod at me as he smiled, taking in my name, putting it into his memory. "I'll see you on Monday, Niall Horan."
For the first time in a long time I felt like maybe I belonged and maybe people actually noticed me and wanted to get to know me, other than just Liam because he was kind towards everybody. I was going to be able to walk through my door with a true smile and not the fake one that I displayed for my mum. I was going to be able to carry that smile all the way to my room, where I would lie in bed and have it grow wider from my nostalgia. It would remain on my face until I fell asleep, only until I woke up and remembered the simple fact all over again.
Harry Styles knew my name.