Lights (2013)

2

About ten minutes later, Louis’ beaten up car pulls up to the curb. He gets out and looks at me curiously.

If you didn't know better, you'd think Harry and Louis would get along just fine. They look like the same type of people. Piercings, tattoos, they both go to parties and get drunk. Louis is very different from Harry, though. He's not a dick like Harry. At least, not most of the time. Once when Louis came over, Harry was at my house watching a football game. Harry stormed out immediately, yelling at me for letting Louis come over. Louis just stood, arms crossed smugly, amused at Harry's anger. I had to call Harry later and explain Louis' and my parents were engaged...that did not go over well.

"What's up his ass this time?" Louis asks me as he drives away from the curb. I roll my eyes.

"Harry is just...ugh!" I say, looking out the window. I cross my arms over my chest in frustration.

"Finally you listen to me. I've told you, he's a dick. You best stay away from him."

I turn to look at Louis. "I know, but he is my best friend. He needs me," I say.

"To what? Clean up the blanket of vomit that coats his house every weekend?"

I wrinkle my nose. "Quite the vivid picture you paint there," I say.

He shrugs. "Am I not accurate?"

"No, you are," I say.

"You know he just uses you," Louis says.

"No, he doesn't!" I yell, anger boiling inside of me.

Louis is silent now, running a hand through his hair as he pulls into our driveway. "Just be careful, Blair. He'll hurt you."

"God, what is it with you two? You constantly rag on each other."

"He speaks about me?" Louis' hands grip the steering wheel. His knuckles go white.

"No, not really," I lie. Every time I bring Louis up Harry gets angry, and vice versa.

"Good. I don't want to have to beat the shit out of him," he says.

I can't help but laugh. I've seen Harry fight, multiple times, actually. He's taken down guys twice his size when he's intoxicated. I've never seen Louis fight, but I would think that Harry would beat the shit out of Lou, not the other way around.

"What?" Louis snaps.

"Nothing." I raise my hands in surrender.

"Blair." His tone is patronizing. I hop out of the car.

"Don't use that tone with me," I say. "Jesus, who are you, my father?"

"I am three years older," he reminds me.

"So what? That doesn't matter."

"How am I supposed to treat you then?"

"Like an equal!"

Louis rolls his eyes and I storm into the house, upset over the day's events. First I get insulted by Harry (not new, but still) and then Louis treats me like I'm five. Great.

I slam the door to the room I share with Lottie and lay on my bed, bringing my hands to my face. I'm more upset over Harry than I am Louis. Maybe Louis has a point. Maybe Harry is using me as a free maid service.

Lottie walks into the room after me, looking up from her phone.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" She asks, walking over to her own bed.

"Shut up," I say.

"Jesus, Blair," she says.

"Sorry," I say. "Rough day."