A Twist of Fate - Larry Stylinson

Part IV

Saturday came all too soon, seemingly faster than anyone could say ‘beach party’, and it seemed to be the perfect weather for a party. Not too sunny, but not overcast skies either.

Zayn, true to his word, was lounging somewhere on the grass, no doubt trying to hit on some girl for the entire duration of Louis’ surf. Seeing his friend walk up the beach, he raised a hand in greeting, but made no move to get up from his position.

Taking that as a sign for him to go entertain himself, Louis headed away. The sand was sticking to his wet feet as he padded up the beach with his surfboard to get changed into dry clothes. It was already later in the afternoon, and the shadows of the trees and partygoers were already lengthening.

It had appeared that they weren’t the only ones using the beach that day, as Louis had found out shortly after arriving. It seemed that someone had decided to have some sort of a mass picnic right in the middle of beach, much to the displeasure of Niall and Liam’s friends, who had to move their ball game to accommodate the picnickers.

Picking up his clothes from where he had left them, Louis gave it a good shake to get the sand out, and was about to head to the toilets when something – or rather someone – caught his eye.

Perhaps it was because of that curly head of hair, the same one Louis could’ve sworn he’d seen walk past Zayn and him that day in the corridor. Or perhaps it was the green eyes that seemed to pierce Louis’ own blue ones when they met as he looked up from his book. Or maybe it was simply because this boy was sitting under the shade of a tree quietly reading when everyone else was having fun. It was a beach party at a beach after all, not a library.

Louis’ curiosity was piqued. There was something about that boy that seemed to pull him there like a magnet. When he was curious about something, nothing could stop him from finding out more.

“Hi,” He said, reaching the tree and standing under the shade of it, directly in front of the boy. He had always been confident, and socializing was never something he shied away from. “It’s a bit dark to be reading, isn’t it?” Louis gestured towards the open pages of the book, where the shadow of the tree branch was now cast over. On closer inspection, he realized it was a textbook, but it was probably wise not to say anything against that.

“And you’re dripping wet,” The boy replied, not missing a beat. Even though the sentence had absolutely no relevance to what Louis had previously said, this boy just made it seem like it was an appropriate response. Like how when someone asked ‘How are you?’ you would say ‘Fine’. Except it didn’t fit like that this time.

His voice was soft, his accent not like the locals. He spoke in a slow drawl, and something about it bordered on seductive, even though he didn’t look like the sort. Immediately, Louis recognized the English accent, and his eyes widened in surprise. “You’re not from around here,” he said, and the boy shrugged. “Neither are you.”

Pushing his damp fringe out of his eyes, Louis laughed and sat down, barely taking note of the sand that was going to stick to his wet skin. “No, but I’ve lived here for seven years. That should count for something, right?”

Interest sparked in the boy’s emerald orbs. “Seven years? And you still have your accent,” he said, almost incredulously. “I’m here on exchange, at the University of Newcastle,” He clarified, when he caught Louis’ questioning look.