dehydrated

alive and breathing

My leg bounces up and down to the beat of the wind flowing past, the weather has gotten better since this morning. Although it didn't in fact rain, the wind wasn't exactly bare able.

I watch the pitch, every now and then the ball flies into the air. One of the boys sweatily runs to it and boots it in the other direction. I watch from the bleachers without getting involved, Focussing my eyes on the boy with his hair tied back in a bandana? I'm not an expert.

He's the only one on the field with long-ish hair, the rest have buzz cuts or frat boy hair- probably their way of getting ready for college.

College is quite confusing, I haven't made the choice of what I'm doing or not. Most Americans go 'back packing in Europe' when they don't know what too do.

But then again, I'm not American so that makes a difference.

I get too my feet after being lost in my thoughts for a while, grabbing my backpack from next to my feet.

I need a piss.

I walk along the bleachers, then down the steps in the direction of the bathroom. I have quite a long time left so, might as well do whatever I want while waiting.

~~

I do up my fly while walking back to the pitch, hours earlier we had discussed that's where we're going to meet after his practice.

"Hey," A voice calls from behind me, no one else around so the greeting was directed towards me.

I turn around, the night sky too dark to see who it is. I stand under the street light, he however, stands just out of it.

"Hello?" I respond.

"Are you Louis Tomlinson?" The voice is unquestionably a mans.

"I'm sorry who is this?" I step towards the shadow of a man.

The shadow steps closer to me, still a good 2 meters apart.

"Answer the fucking question." His voice stern and unrecognisable.

"Yes? What has this got-"

He steps forward before swinging at me. His fist clashes with my eye, his hand strong and trained.

I fold over, holding my eye in my hand.

"What the fuck-" I try to get back up, but am greeted with another hit. This time coming from behind me, there's more than one?

I fall to the ground, my reaction not fast enough to catch myself. My face hits the hard concrete.

I look up at the boys as they pound their feet into my stomach and lower back. Their hoods cover their faces.

I want to scream out but I know if I do, the beating will get worse.

I hear their breathing, it's heavy and they are notably out of breathe as they scream slurs towards me, mostly homophobic ones.

I lie on the ground, the concrete cold to the touch. I accept my fate.

"Get the fuck off him!" A scream comes from the bathroom, I think? My head spinning too fast to understand the direction of anything.

My head resting on its side, the kicking stops.

I try too look up, I catch a sight of an arm, punching one of the masked boys. Before my head falls back onto the side, too weak to stay up.

"Louis!" The boy drops to his knees by my side, he shakes my body. I try to move, to face him, but my body doesn't respond.

I hear the footsteps of the boys fleeing away shouting, "You fucking faggot!"

A hand snaps in my eyes, "Louis, please mate respond." I try to shout but my mouth doesn't respond.

"Louis! Come on! Just say something! Or do something!"

I slowly turn over onto my back, with the help of the boy.

"Zayn?" I whisper, my throat too tired to say anymore.

"Louis!" He places his hand on my face, stroking it.

"You're alive and breathing. That's fucking great news." He strokes my cheek, I feel my eyes watering. Whether it's tears or my eyes are just watering I feel it drip down my cheek.

"Here-" He lifts my back up softly, the pain slowly going away. I never thought that would happen.

I sit next to him, his hand on my back, supporting me. We sit just out of the street lamps brightness.

"I don't know who the fuck thing they are. Doing that today just because you're gay." He taps his feet on the concrete in annoyance.

My body aches all over.

~~

After a little while, I try to catch my breathe back.

"What are you doing at school so late?" My speech somewhat slurred.

"I could ask you the same thing, mate." He smiles.

Harrys sweatshirt stays on my back, hopefully I haven't ruined it.

"This girl just got rejected this morning so she asked if I could fuck her," He smirks, "How could I say no."

"What was her name?" Zayn's body heat keeps me warm.

"Mia? No, Molly yeah Molly."

"No way." I look at him, barely able to see his actual face because of the lighting.

"Yeah- why?"

"I think I know her- and the dude who rejected her." Zayn looks intrigued by my comment.

"Who rejected her then?"

"...Styles, she came up to us this morning and offered to give him a tour, then offered him a friend group then asked for his number. He declined all."

"No fucking way!" We laugh at this discovery.

"Anyway why are you here this late?"

"It's not late, just dark-ish," He rolls his eyes, "Styles had football training so I was waiting for him too finish practice."

"I never would have thought you would like Styles." He smiles at me, I focus my eyes into his.

I shrug, "Same."

"What changed?" He seems confused.

Honestly, it's everything. That he saved me, that he opened up to me, he let me open up to him, he's just... him.

"I don't even know Zayn," I glance at my watch, "Shit- the players are about to come out."

"What's wrong with that?"

Truthfully, it's that I don't wanna see Liam but Zayn doesn't know that.

"Well look at the state of me Zayn." I look down at Harrys sweatshirt, its covered in blood and dust.

He nodds before pulling me up too my feet. The pain has decreased a lot since earlier.

"Thank you so much," I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, "I don't know what would have happened if you didn't show up."

"Luckily I did, stop by after school tomorrow, we're going to another party. Bring your boy if you like."

"I've only known him for a week." He smirks before he drops his skateboard, it was there the whole time. I'm not sure how I missed it. It falls too his feet, he steps onto it and pushes off the cement.

He peacefully rides away, leaving me alone yet again.

I turn to the pitch, I might as well just go back to the bleachers.

I start walking back to the side lines, peering at my watch. It'll be over soon, then I can go home and take a shower. Get rid of this dried up blood.

I sit on one of the benches where players usually sit when they're not participating. Luckily it's empty.

Waiting for this to be over.

~~