Detention ➳ Larry

Chapter sixteen

(Harry's POV)

I can feel my brain throbbing and it stings like pins and needles are stabbing it. I pinch my eyes closed and massage my temples, feeling like I might throw up. Louis hates me . . . and that's not a question, or even a theory, it's a fact. I could tell by the look in his eyes when he ran away from me. His blue eyes glistening with tears and his bottom lip protruding. He looked so shocked and sad. He looked so hurt and I was the one who caused that.

Guilt is building up at the pit of my stomach, eating me away inside. I'm sure that everybody heard Zayn say that Louis was gay, and even though I wasn't the one who said that, it's still my fault. I was the one that got in an arugment with Zayn.

This is all my fault.

"Harry, please talk to me." Mr. Travis says.

I peek open my eyes so I can see him. His black hair is slicked back, and his face is fitted with fake compassion and interest. He doesn't really care about me or anything going on in my life. He's a counselor so it's his job.

He wants to get inside my head, and figure out every single detail of my life. I hate him so much. Why doesn't he just leave me the fuck alone!? My life is private to me and only me. Why should I tell all my secrets to some man who doesn't even care?

"Harry... talk to me." Mr. Travis repeats, this time a little more stern. There was no 'please' involved.

"What do you want?" I groan.

He looks happy that I responded to him, and he gives me a small smlie through his red lips. We're sitting in his office and I'm in the chair across from him, having to frequently reposition myself in the uncomfortable chair. There's a desk seperating us, topped with student files and coffee cups.

"I want to know how you're coping with your sexuality." he tells me.

"You don't want to know, you have to know. It's your job." I argue.

He rolls his eyes, "Harry, listen to me." he begins, obviously frustrated with me, "I do care. I'm a guidence counselor for a reason and that's because I enjoy listening to people's problems."

I quirk an eyebrow, "Doesn't that get annoying? Listening to countless teenagers blabbing to you about their dramatic issues?" I question.

Mr. Travis bites the inside of his cheek, "I suppose you could put it that way but it's not annoying if you're willing to listen, though." he insists.

I frown, "Fine. You want to know how I'm coping with my sexuality? Not very well, that's for sure." I snap.

He nods, "Explain," he encourages.

I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly, unable to grasp the situation that I'm about to get myself into, "I've come to terms that I might be bi, or gay, or something other than normal," I admit.

"That's good."

"Yeah, not really. So far it's gotten me no where but tears and drama." I say, thinking of Louis. 

"So I'm assuming that you're having relationship troubles?"

"Something like that," I mumble.

"What do you mean?" he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

I let out a soft sigh, "The guy I have a crush on is . . . well, in a relationship. With another guy."

"I see."

"Yes. And I'm pretty sure that he hates me now."

"Why?"

I question whether or not I should tell him that the boy I like is Louis. He's a counselor, right? Don't they have rules or something that say all conversations are confidential?