Becket Drive - h.s.

Chapter 2

Harry

I exhale as I hit the punching bag again. Starting another round, I work on my left uppercut, feeling my bicep work and putting my back into every single punch. I've had to put more work into the power behind my punches. I'm quick on my feet, always have been, but I need more training if I'm going to win against Brock at the end of next month.

"You've been working on that for hours and it still looks like shit," I hear from my right, making me stop right before my hand hits the bag.

I look over at Zayn standing with his arms crossed and a smug look on his face. This asshole.

I scoff, "You wanna trade places? Because I haven't seen you working out yet today."

He chuckles.

"Thought so," I say before turning back to the punching bag. I switch to the next round, working on a right uppercut now.

Zayn doesn't take the hint though and continues, "I don't need to work out all day," he pauses and continues, "some of us just get it naturally."

Here he goes again. Zayn's specialty has always been annoying me. Ever since we met in year 5 he's been a pain in my ass. But a pain in my ass that's stuck by me. Stuck in my ass, you could say.

We met just after we were just dismissed from school one day and I was taking my daily walk home, the Cheshire wind blowing in my face freezing me to the point of my hands turning blue. I had stepped out of the school gates when I heard grunting and shouting near the other end of the school. I turned my head to see a group of guys from my class bending over what looked like another person. The group was notorious for being pricks. Being the nosy kid I was, I move up closer to them. I recognized Zayn, a kid in my grade. I went up to the first guy I saw and pushed him to the ground. When he tried to get up, I pushed him back down with my foot. Being a ten-year-old child, he wasn't used to any physical fighting. And he didn't know that I was. I mustered all the venom I could in my voice and told him to grab his friends and run along home.

He listened and I turned to Zayn to help him up. He thanked me and from that day we stuck by each other, never letting one another be in that position alone again. It worked, but it didn't mean he didn't get on my nerves all the time.

"You fuc-," I start to say before I'm cut off by my trainer.

"Styles," he calls, trying to get my attention.

I give Zayn a look saying we'll finish this later, and turn to Hank

"You two never make my day easy," he says with a sigh.

"Hey, Hank," I say as he approaches.

He nods and starts talking about my technique, "You're looking good, Styles, you really are. Your uppercut is improving a lot. We have to get some more combinations down. He's strong but not quick. You're going to have to tire him out, so keep working on your morning runs. We just have to build a little more muscle, but your strength will be there soon."

I tense and give Hank a nod. I'm grateful for everything he's done to help me and I don't plan on ignoring his advice any time soon.

"I'll work on all of that. Brock is going to walk away from here with a broken nose, I promise."

Hank chuckles, "Good, you'll be ready by the end of September. Let's just call it a night."

Zayn comes to stand next to me, "Why, you suddenly have plans I don't know about, last I checked you don't have a social life?"

"I might. I wouldn't tell you, either way, Malik." Hank starts walking away but says over his shoulder, "Go home and fuck, I imagine that's what you two do when you're alone anyway."