I’d already checked Louis’ room, and it obviously couldn’t be in there. As I lay back on my bed, I tried to think of other places he might’ve left the journal.
Wait a minute; in the vacation house he’d had a thinking room where the journal had been. Was it possible that he had a quiet place like that here and I hadn’t noticed?
It wouldn’t be another of the boys’ rooms. It also couldn’t be somewhere we went often, like the kitchen, bathroom, living room, or game room. With that in mind, I began walking around the house to look for a room that he could’ve used to be alone.
Passing the laundry room, I almost took a look but stopped as I decided Liam uses that too much. Same with the studying room, which was basically filled with books and learning material that only Daddy Li would ever bother to read. There were no more rooms on the first floor, so I climbed the stairs. The only rooms here were our bedrooms and the guest room. That might be worth a shot.
I checked under the mattress, where he’d hid his journal before. No luck. Scouring the space as I had done earlier to Lou’s room, I found nothing. Where else could it be? I was about to give up when I remembered the little attic room.
There was a tiny little room that was technically part of the attic. It had a small window and could only be reached from a little drop-down ladder that Liam had installed. I’d thought none of the boys used it, so I almost forgot it existed. Reaching up, I pulled out the ladder and entered the room.
Immediately I knew that this was Louis’ thinking room. There were random striped shirts and TOMs lying around and a Boo-shaped indent on a comfy looking red beanbag chair. The blinds on the window were open just enough to let in light without exposing the room to the outside. Only Lou would have a room like this. I could feel the peace and understood why he’d kept this place a secret; it was something to be experienced alone. I felt the tension in my shoulders release as I sighed.
Suddenly feeling as if I’d forgotten something important, I racked my brain. Right, the journal! Scanning over the room, I saw two blue and white striped shirts but no book. I picked up the beanbag and crawled under the little table and even wiped my hands between the blinds. Nothing. Maybe he took the journal with him and only thought he left it home.
Deciding I may as well check everything while I was up there, I flipped over the shoes and shook out the clothing. As I was shaking the first striped shirt, I heard a small thump and looked down. There, right in front of my toes, was his journal. Smiling, I dropped the shirt and grabbed the book tightly. I hoped it was worth the long search.
I headed back down to my room and shut the door behind me. Sitting down, I laid the book in my lap. I had two days until Louis returned, and I planned to use that time wisely to determine what the problem he spoke of writing about was.
As I opened the cover, I saw he’d scrawled out a title on the first page. Louis William Tomlinson’s Journal, very creative. Smiling gently, I flipped the page and took a deep breath. I was finally going to read Boobear’s journal.
He wrote fairly well for a boy who didn’t pay attention in school. I chuckled as I read. It appeared he’d started this journal the day he got put together with us other boys, so I got to read our whole journey from Louis’ perspective. It was a nice change. I giggled at his pranks and rolled my eyes when he didn’t understand how he could be considered immature. Only Boo.
I looked at the clock and realized I’d been poring over the journal for a good four hours now. The other boys were likely wondering where I was, or maybe they just thought I was asleep. I shut the journal and stuffed it under my mattress, copying Louis’ idea. Sliding off the bed, I changed into fresh sweats and tossed the old ones on the floor; Liam would come get them for me later.
When I got downstairs I found Niall on the couch watching Grease and stuffing his face with crisps. I chuckled, causing him to focus on me.
“Haz! You’re awake!” he greeted me happily.
“I sure am, buddy. Is there a reason you’re sitting here watching a movie alone?”
He shrugged. “Li went out with Andy and Zayn’s going shopping, and I didn’t want to wake you ‘cause you’re grumpy when I do. I also haven’t had a good meal in hours; nobody was here to cook and there’s no more leftovers!” He ended, whining at me.
“I guess it’s you and me today, Nialler. Tell you what, I’ll make you food if you let me eat some,” I bargained with him.
“But that’s not fair, I’m hungry!” he complained.
I strolled out, telling him, “Fine, I’ll just make myself something then.”
That got him to get his bum up off the couch all right. “No, no, I didn’t mean that! I’ll share, I promise!” he begged me, pouting his lip and looking like an innocent puppy. Laughing, I nodded and left him to finish the movie while I went to the kitchen.
I searched through our food supplies, groaning at the limited options. I decided it was a chicken curry day and started preparing it while humming randomly.
Niall appeared in the doorway, giving me a heart attack. “Movie’s over, Harry. What are you humming?” He tried to sneak his way around me and dip his fingers in the pan, but I blocked him.
“Bad boy, you know Chef Hazza doesn’t like people tasting his masterpieces before they’re complete,” I scolded him. “I’m not really humming anything in particular, just trying not to get bored.”
He pouted at the fact that he had to wait to eat, but sat down at the table anyway. “You’re no fun! I got an idea, let’s sing something!” I groaned. We sing as a career, can’t we do something we don’t always do?
I assumed he saw my expression. “Not one of our songs, just something we both know and like at the moment.” I thought about that as I tried to come up with a good song.
“How about that one song on the radio, like, Scream? I think that’s what it’s called,” I suggested.
He grinned back at me. “I love that one! Hold on just a second, I’ve got it… wait… here.” He had his phone turned up to maximum volume and I heard the first few notes of the song play.
Niall danced around the kitchen and I swung my hips back and forth as we both sang the lyrics at the top of our lungs. By the time the song had ended, my curry was dished out neatly onto a plate for myself. I didn’t bother getting Niall a plate, as I knew he’d just eat the rest. We were both laughing hysterically and I saw Ni place a hand on his lower back.
“Ouch… maybe that wasn’t such a great idea,” he panted out.
I raised an eyebrow. “Why not? It was fun!” Jesus, I sounded like Louis. He’s normally the one doing things simply because they’re fun.
He rubbed his hand in little circles. “I think I hit my back on the edge of the table,” he groaned. I chuckled and he just glared at me.
“Hey, look! Food’s ready!” It was as if the words had magically healed his pain. He was suddenly standing right in front of me, no longer rubbing his back. I laughed, “Someone’s hungry.”
“Of course I am, Harry! You forget I haven’t been fed in hours!” he explained himself. I just continued laughing, calming as I grabbed my own plate and sat across from him at the table.
We ate in comfortable silence. We’d both managed to control our giggles and were focused on the food. I caught Niall moaning and just stared at him. What was that for?
“This is amazing, Haz! Thank you!” He grinned at me. I glowed at the compliment.
When we were finished, I checked the time once more. I only had two hours before Liam was supposed to get home. Excusing myself, I rushed back to my room and pulled out the journal. It was time to continue reading.
So far nothing had come up. It was just our adventures as One Direction, from the point of view of Louis Tomlinson. It was hilarious, but nothing new. When would this big secret appear?
I continued, reading about each of our live show performances in turn and what he was thinking during the video diaries. As it turned out, he’d actually said that he liked girls who eat carrots as a massive joke. He didn’t mind the carrot gifts, but he didn’t particularly need them either. I chuckled, as this was typical of Louis.
It was then that I got to more interesting thoughts. Louis began to write about how he was worried what we would think if he told us the truth. The truth about what? He kept hinting that there was something he hadn’t old us. He wrote more about it in each entry and how the guilt of keeping it to himself was tearing him up.
I got to the night we spent together telling some of our deepest secrets. That was a night I remembered had brought us all much closer and made us more comfortable around one another. I smiled at the memory, wondering what Louis thought of it.
Surprisingly, he hadn’t focused much on the trust we had in each other. Instead, he wrote more about how he couldn’t believe he hadn’t told us. How it was the perfect opportunity, but he let it pass. I got frustrated, flipping faster and faster through the pages, hoping he’d just reveal his secret already.
Could I really be finding his big secret already? I was not even half way through the journal yet. Maybe he had multiple secrets, or this one led to a bigger one? Maybe it was something he’d ended up revealing? I thought back but couldn’t recall him sharing anything he was particularly nervous about with us all, or even just with me.
Then I saw it. In the middle of the next page he finally said it. He was so nervous, so scared of us rejecting him. He hadn’t told us because he thought it would change the way we saw him and we wouldn’t want him with us anymore. He thought he’d be shunned. He hadn’t told anyone but his family and best friend this, which is why it was so closely hidden.
I snapped back to attention when I heard footsteps approaching down the hall outside my door. Assuming it was just Niall returning to his room, I ignored it. But the sound stopped when the person reached my door. Snapping the journal closed, I put the thing under my mattress faster than you could blink.
The door opened to Liam. He had an armful of what appeared to be Niall’s clothes, and he picked up the ones I had on the floor before turning to me.
“Hey, Harry! How was your day? I heard you baked something for Niall? That was nice,” he commented. I breathed a sigh of relief; he hadn’t noticed anything was different.
“Yeah, it was. It was delicious, or at least he told me so. What are you doing here?”
He chuckled. “I came for another load of laundry. Unless you’d like to finally learn to just do it yourself?”
“No! Don’t make me do my own laundry, Daddy!” I whined like a little child. He laughed at me, shaking his head and leaving with another full arm of dirty clothes.
As soon as he was gone, I closed the door and locked it. I needed time to process what I’d just read. I couldn’t believe Liam hadn’t noticed how frazzled I was. Maybe he was really focused on the clothing?
I had a right to be frazzled, or angry. My best friend had been hiding something kind of big from me for years because he didn’t know how I would take it. It hurt to think he doubted our friendship and thought a simple thing could change our relationship forever. More than anything else, I was confused. How had I not noticed something was wrong sooner? How had I not seen it?
My Boobear was a closet bisexual.