Conformity (Larry Stylinson AU)

Five.

"How's Zayn doing?" Louis touches the subject I've been attempting to avoid.

I continue tightening a loose wheel on my skateboard when answering, "He's officially expelled and feeling the wrath of Mama Malik. I don't feel any kind of sorry for him."

"I don't either. But he's still your friend. You should go and talk to him," Louis suggests. I glance up at him and he's squinting as the blinding sun is baring down on us. It may be getting chilly again, but for some reason the sun is amplified.

I took Louis to the skate-park per request to get him out of his house. He's never been and it's cute to watch him in "white trash" territory. He's already received multiple double takes from everyone who's never seen a footballer approach this area.

"I'd rather not speak to him, honestly. He's probably just going to find a way to blame it on me and demand I fix it."

Louis scoots over a little on the bench to make room for me. I take the weight off my feet and lay my repaired skateboard on the ground and roll it back and forth under my feet. "Do you really think that?"

I scoff. "I know that. 'Mate, I coulda just hid it at your place if you weren't such a bloody stiff'."

"It's not your fault he does drugs,"

"My point exactly. I don't feel like getting yelled at for his pot addiction today. I'll probably go see him tomorrow or something," I say, turning my head to stare at Louis, only to find he's staring at me.

He swiftly looks forward and begins speaking. I smile. "You don't have to, y'know? If he's just going to be an ass about it."

"Yeah, but he's just about the only friend I've got, aside from you and Liam."

Louis looks incredible today. He's in a white v-neck, rolled up blue jeans and a beaten up pair of Vans; simple, but he would manage to make a trash-bag work. I wish I could stay in moments like these; where he's with me and we're talking and nothing else really matters.

"Honestly, why are you even friends with Zayn to begin with? Like, Liam's an alright guy, but Zayn's a dick. I'm not trying to tell you who to hang out with, but you don't have to put up with him if all he is is a jerk to you."

"I know, s'just we've been mates forever. We grew up together, and I don't like who he's become, but I like who he used to be. I guess I'm just holding onto that."

"And I know he pressures you about the drug thing. You guy might've been buddies since birth, but real mates don't try to make each other do detrimental things and then ridicule them about not having the balls to do it or whatever. Peer pressure is for bullies,"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "No offense, but your advice is kind of hypocritical."

"How?" He knits his eyebrows together.

"You've gone through like six girlfriends because of peer pressure to be straight,"

Louis rolls his eyes. In hanging out with him more and getting to know him, I've learned he's incredibly sassy and sardonic. "Okay, but that's not drugs, that's a date. One will ruin your life and the other will just ruin your night."

"I'm just saying, practice what you preach, Tommo," I stand up and wink at him. "Ready to ride?"

Louis gives me an annoyed glare before lifting himself off the bench as well and shaking his head. "Not really, I'm probably going to break an arm."

"With that attitude you will!"

"Shut up, Harry," Louis laughs. "Do I not need a helment?"

"I don't even own a helmet. You're not going down anything steep yet, anyways. I'm just gonna teach you how to ride,"