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"He's an asshole."

Louis nodded as he took another sip of his glass of water, "I know."

"How do you even live with him?"

"I try to avoid him at all costs."

"He's a major dick-wad."

"I know."

"You should move out."

"I've tried."

"You can live with me," Niall offered. Louis wasn't too sure about that. Besides, Niall's parents hated Louis and thought he was a terrible example of a friend.

"I can live with him. It's fine."

Louis had spent the last 17--nearly 18--years living with his father. He had quickly learned to stay clear of his dad and his anger. Most of the time, it wasn't that bad. But when he came home from the bar every night, you could expect some vases to shatter.

"If you ever need anything, I'm here."

"I know."

Niall decided it would be a good idea to change the subject, "What did Mr. Styles have to say to you after school?"

"He said that I would have to come after school every Monday and Friday to get extra help from him. I guess it's okay though. At least I get home later and actually have a reasonable excuse."

"Are you actually going to go?"

"Well, yeah. Where else would I go?" 

"I mean, you could hang out with me and the other guys." 

"And do what? Smoke?" 

Niall and his pals were known for skipping class to take a drag of a cigarette every now and then. They were also ones to get in the most trouble which Louis found quite funny; how could Niall's parents possibly think he was the bad influence? Their kid was missing out on school just to have a bit of fun. 

"Yeah, or you could come with us downtown."

Nothing good ever happens when Niall and the gang go downtown.

Nothing.

"I'd rather not end up in jail over night," Louis said, rolling his eyes as he finished his drink, "Besides, I would like to keep my lungs in good shape for football." 

"God, you're such a pussy. I mean seriously, live a little." 

"Whatever, Niall. But when you end up in jail next weekend, don't call me to come bail you out." Niall didn't say a word in reply, knowing very well that Louis was being dead serious. 

"I have to show if I want to keep my average at a C. If I don't do so, I don't play and you know how upset dad would be if I didn't play." 

"Why does he take that sport so seriously anyways?" 

Louis shrugged. Even he didn't know the answer. His dad was always a pusher. He pushed each of his kids to excel in something they were good at. Louis sometimes hated being an alright footie player. A lot of pressure was put on by his team, coach and, most importantly, father. He had to be the perfect kid. He had to get the perfect grades. He had to be perfect, perfect, perfect.

If you weren't perfect, you weren't a Tomlinson.

"I don't know."

Harry was quite surprised by how well Louis' story read.

It was beautiful, heart-breaking, unique, and full of voice. In all honesty, Harry wasn't expecting so much from the kid. He really didn't think the kid had it in him to write something so thought provoking. He had almost given up on the kid.

But he guessed it was time to take some of his own advice: Don't judge a book by it's cover.

Harry took note of Louis' piece and made sure that he would share it on Monday. He felt he needed to share Louis' accomplishment with the class to show how effort gets you A's. He continued to grade papers, nothing else standing out. It was getting late when he finally heard a key turning and quickly threw his papers onto the table, pretending to be asleep.

The front door shut and footsteps clicked across the floor, stopping right at the couch, "I guess you're sleeping here again," Liam whispered, "Good night then."

The lamp on the side table was turned off and the footsteps moved down the hallway and another door clicked shut.

"Love you too," Harry mumbled to himself.

He couldn't wait for Monday.

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QUESTION: What do you think is going to happen Monday? :)

The Rubik's Cube Champ // l.s.Where stories live. Discover now