Chapter Text
The summer breeze had already begun to fade, giving way to the familiar, overcast skies of England and the first hints of autumn rain settling over the cities. But with every season’s end came the arrival of another, bringing not only new experiences but also fresh challenges. Many young people dreaded the return to school, feeling trapped behind the invisible bars of academic responsibilities, weighed down by the cycle of classes, homework and looming exams.
Harry Styles, however, was in far different position right now.
From the moment he started primary school, Harry had been a naturally gifted student. He had an innate passion for literature, history and languages, excelling even without needing to sacrifice his social life in favor of endless studying. He wasn’t the kind of student who buried himself in books all day. He simply had an excellent memory and talent for picking up new information effortlessly.
He wouldn’t call himself a nerd though. Not exactly. Harry was just automatically good at everything he tried.
So, when he first enrolled in his local public high school, he immediately began to realize that he was capable of much more. If it hadn’t been for his best friends, Sasha and Nick, he might never have dared to step beyond his comfort zone.
The school they attended was far from what he imagined a high school is gonna be like. It was underfunded, lacking the most basic facilities and riddled with bullying at every corner that even the staff barely acknowledged. The teachers were under-qualified, yet carried themselves with an air of superiority, treating the students as if they were still stupid little kids. It was hardly the place for someone who dreamed of achieving something greater, but it was the only school his mother could afford.
Then, Sasha began talking about The Holmes Institute; the elite private school in town, known for producing some of the most promising students. Wealthy, talented and ambitious teenagers walked its halls and just the pure thought of it felt like another world.
The idea of attending seemed impossible, but for the three of them, it soon became an irresistible goal.
There was only way in: scholarships.
They all had talent and top grades, so they applied immediately. Nick passed the entrance exams with ease as always, being the one who actually deserves the label of a nerd. Sasha, being in the foster care system, received financial support, so she had it figured out without needing to do much work.
Unfortunately though, Harry wasn’t so lucky.
He had been close, just a few points away from passing the exam. However in a school like Holmes, close apparently wasn’t good enough.
So, instead of walking through those prestigious halls with his best friends, he was stuck in the same rundown school, listening to Sasha and Nick constantly gush about their new classes, brilliant teachers and the school’s endless opportunities. Of course they didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but with every conversation, every excited mention of their new lives, jealousy settled like a stone in Harry’s chest.
Although rather than letting it break him, he let it fuel him.
Determined not to fail a second time, Harry threw himself into research. He learned everything he could about the school, the scholarship process and any loopholes he might use to his advantage.
That’s when he discovered an opportunity. A scholarship for A-levels in Literature and English. Unlike the entrance exams, this one didn’t require him to sit another test. Instead, all he had to do was submit an essay.
This was definitely his ticket in. Writing had always been one of Harry’s strengths and for the first time in months, he felt hope. He poured everything into his essay, shaping his words with care, determined to make them see his worth.
It took only a few days for Holmes to respond and they really were impressed. So impressed, in fact, that they offered him a scholarship covering nearly 70% of the tuition.
Now, he was here, standing in front of The Holmes Institute, taking in the towering building, the pristine grounds and the polished hallways that once seemed so unreachable. Excitement coursed through his veins but so did the nervous energy that made his knees weak.
It was already the third day of the school year, meaning he had missed the opening ceremony, though he didn’t care about that. What mattered most was finally being able to sit with his best friends again and to prove that he deserves to be here.
As he waited outside the principal’s office, he tried to calm his nerves. His eyes drifted to a bulletin board covered in posters for after-school activities, at top of which was a simple, bold message; "Today is your chance to start something new."
He repeated the words in his mind.
Start something new .
His gaze flicked over the different posters advertising art, theatre, media and a lot of other things he would typically be interested in. But that wasn’t what he wanted right now. He was already stepping into a new world, so why not go further? Why not do something completely unexpected?
Then, one poster stood out. A green field with an infamous black and white ball.
Football.
Harry had never been much of an athlete. Sports were always in the opposite direction of what he cared about and his body was in great shape even without much physical activity so he had never even considered playing sports. But maybe that was exactly why he should. It would push him out of his comfort zone, provide new practical skills, help him get in better shape and also look great on his resume.
What could possibly go wrong, right?
He pulled out his phone, quickly comparing the practice schedule only to find out that the sessions lined up perfectly with his classes. Almost as if it was meant to be.
At that moment, the office door opened.
Harry turned, his heart skipping a beat as he faced the woman standing in the doorway.
She was older but carried herself with an elegant presence. Dressed in an expensive deep purple suit, paired with a long pleated skirt, she had an air of quiet authority. A pair of monocle glasses rested on the bridge of her nose which wasn’t helping Harry at all to feel like what’s happening is real and not just a movie scene. The reality settled in when her strict expression softened and her lips curled into a polite smile as she glanced down at the papers in her hands.
"You must be Harry-" she paused, scanning the document before finding his full name. "Harry Styles, right?"
"Yes, that’s me, ma’am." Harry straightened his shoulders, offering a polite smile in return.
She nodded approvingly. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry. I’m Margaret Sinclair, the principal of Holmes Institute. Please, come in and take a seat."
She stepped aside, holding the door open as Harry stepped past her into a new chapter of his life.
Mrs. Sinclair congratulated him on earning his scholarship before explaining the ins and outs of the school’s system, his schedule and the expectations for A-level students. She handed him a set of textbooks for his chosen subjects and a form listing all the extracurricular activities available to him.
Finally, her assistant led him on a tour of the school. Walking through sleek modern hallways, past the expansive library and into the impressive cafeteria was nothing like the rundown canteen of his old school. Harry really tried to took it all in but still struggled to believe that this was real. That this was really happening. The assistant even took him to his locker, which had number 22, making it that much easier for Harry to remember.
Once he was finally free to roam on his own, he checked the time and realised the class he was supposed to be attending was ending in just a few minutes. Knowing it probably wasn’t worth showing up at that point, he made his way to the cafeteria after texting Sasha and Nick to meet him there for lunch.
And although they had still been seeing each other after school and on weekends, he was really looking forward to finally sharing their academic activities together again.
—————————
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re actually here now!” Sasha exclaimed for what felt like the tenth time since they had gotten their lunch and sat down at a table in the corner of the room.
“It was about damn time,” Nick added, chewing on the baby carrots he had just ordered. “You’ve already missed out on a lot.”
“Like what? Did you guys already find someone to take my place?” Harry chuckled.
“Come on, babe, who could possibly replace our dearest ray of sunshine?” Sasha assured him, reaching toward Harry’s cheek to give him a loud, dramatic peck. “Besides, there aren’t many people we hang out with outside of school. Everyone else is too rich and perfect for us, apparently.”
“Is it really that hard to fit in?” Harry asked, only now realising he hadn’t considered that the students here probably came from completely different backgrounds and might look down upon him for being here only through a scholarship.
“I mean, there are a lot of people who are just so out of touch with reality,” Sasha said, leaning back in her chair, “but I’ve also met some funny screwups you can actually have a good chat with. Nothing really special so far, though.”
“Why don’t you tell him about your crush?” Nick smirked, staring right at Sasha.
Harry was a little taken aback and turned to face her with raised eyebrows.
“Oh, because it’s nothing. She’s one of those people who don’t and probably never will know I exist. She’s apparently very popular and has a boyfriend anyway,” Sasha explained, scrolling through her phone for a picture to show Harry.
When he looked at her screen, he saw a selfie of a girl with long blonde hair and red lipstick. Though she looked nothing like the girls Sasha had dated before, Harry could definitely see that she was undeniably pretty, someone with a modeling face that belonged on the cover of every magazine.
“I could never have guessed this was your type,” Harry laughed, receiving a playful slap from Sasha.
“That’s because she’s not! She’s just really stunning, okay? You’ll get it once you see her in person. There’s no doubt why all the guys are fighting over her.”
“What about Nick?” Harry said, shifting the attention to the boy sitting across from him. “Do you like anyone?”
“I only know who I don’t like so far,” Nick snorted, making Harry nod in understanding.
Nick had always been the one to keep his distance from everyone, which, most of the time just made it seem like he really hated people.
“Then I guess you’ll have to make me a list so I know who to avoid,” Harry suggested.
“Oh, please don’t or you’ll end up avoiding the entire school,” Sasha joked, making Harry laugh while Nick tried to justify himself.
They spent the whole break sitting and chatting in the cafeteria and it already felt so familiar, so nostalgic. Even though Harry knew how much he had missed this, the moment still felt deeply meaningful and a rush of excitement swept over him at the realisation that this would be his typical school day from now on.
When the bell rang, Harry made his way through the hallways, searching for his psychology class. By the time he arrived, all the seats were taken and he felt a wave of panic as he scanned the room, unable to spot an empty chair. Fortunately, he noticed a hand gesturing toward him in a “come here” motion.
He followed the signal and found a brown-haired girl sitting next to an empty seat before she patted the chair and invited him to sit down.
“Thanks. I’m Harry, by the way,” he said as he plopped into the chair and extended his hand.
“No problem. I’m Emma,” she replied with a smile, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”
They chatted a bit during class too, while still managing to take notes and pay attention to the teacher.
The thing is, Harry had never had a problem talking to people, but he hadn’t felt like socialising much at his old school. But now, he felt like he was in a much better place to make connections and meet new people he could call friends. The confidence he felt while socialising was overwhelming and he was ready to embrace it fully.
After school, Harry bicycled home quickly upon receiving a text from his sister, Gemma, saying she was coming home that day. It had been so long since he’d last seen her.
His sister had been studying at a university in London where she also lived with her boyfriend, Michal, whom she had met a few years earlier. Harry had only met Michal through FaceTime when their mum called Gemma and he happened to be there, but he seemed like a nice guy and Harry trusted his sister not to let a dirtbag fool her. Definitely not after what their dad had done to their mum.
Gemma had always been like a second parent to Harry, sacrificing her childhood to take care of him while their mum worked two jobs to provide for the three of them. She had always been protective of him, even when he was bullied at school she never let anyone mistreat him, not even a little.
Now, she had finally graduated with a degree in interior design and was planning to spend a few months at home, looking for a job and an apartment in Holmes Chapel. She was waiting for Michal to finish law school, as he would be graduating during summer. Until then, Harry had plenty of time to spend with his sister and make up for all the years they had been apart.
Harry picked up speed as his house came into view, hopping off his bike and leaving it lying on the ground behind him. He was about to take out his keys when he heard the handle turn and he froze instantly, staring at the door as it opened to reveal a young woman smiling excitedly.
“Oh my God!” he yelled, jumping into her arms and hugging her tightly. “You’re really fucking here!” he cheered.
“Gosh, Harry, I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured against his shoulder before pulling away to look at her younger brother. “Look at you, wow, you’re a whole grown man now!”
“Oh, please. Look at you! You look absolutely stunning,” he argued, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She returned the gesture with a kiss on his forehead and hugged him again.
“Alright, let’s go inside. We have a lot to catch up on,” she said eventually, letting him in and closing the door behind them.
Gemma led Harry to the living room, where they quickly settled on the couch, eager to catch up. They spent the whole evening talking. Harry told her about his new school, informed her about how’s Sasha and Nick doing and how different everything felt compared to the past.
Their mum, Anne, joined them not long after, coming home with a bags full of groceries that they immediately helped her to clean up. She then sat down to join the conversation and the three of them spent the next hour talking and laughing, sharing stories about what they’d been up to.
Gemma told them about her final projects at university and how Michal was doing, while Anne shared updates about work and her plans for the future. For the first time in what felt like forever, the house was filled with warmth and laughter again.
But as the evening wore on, Harry felt a pleasant exhaustion settle over him.
“I think I’m going to head to bed,” he said, standing up and stretching. “Today’s been… amazing. I’m really glad you’re home, Gem.”
Gemma smiled up at him. “Me too, Harry. Sleep well.”
He made his way to his room, a small but cozy space that felt like his sanctuary. The walls were lined with posters, photos and his bed, which occupied most of the space in the room, was tucked neatly in the corner by the door. As he swapped out of his clothes, leaving only his briefs on, he climbed under the covers, unable to stop himself from smiling.
Laying there, staring at the ceiling, Harry couldn’t help to not think about how much had changed in such a short time, but he felt a sense of hope he hadn’t felt in years.
This was just the beginning , he thought.
If today was any indication, the days ahead would only get better. And with that thought, he closed his eyes with a contented smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep, eager to see what tomorrow would bring.
The next day was sunny, much to Harry’s surprise. He had been expecting the worst from autumn’s unpredictable weather but apparently, summer still had a few more warm days to offer. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a cheerful glow over the school hallways as Harry made his way to class. He strolled leisurely, a small smile playing on his lips while he nodded or smiled at everyone who passed by.
It was a refreshing change from his old school where he’d often kept his head down, trying to avoid any unnecessary attention. Now, he felt a newfound confidence, a sense of belonging that made even the simplest interactions feel meaningful.
Now, he was heading to his literature class, a subject he had always adored. Books had been his escape during tougher times and he was eager to dive into the stories and discussions that literature classes always brought. He couldn’t help but feel excited, hoping this school’s approach to the subject would be even better than what he was used to. Maybe the teacher would be passionate, maybe the readings would be more interesting or maybe he’d even find a classmate who shared his love for storytelling.
Whatever it was, Harry was ready for it.
When he finally reached the classroom, he paused for a moment outside the door, taking a deep breath before he pushed the door open and stepped inside, immediately noticing an empty desk in the front. Harry settled into his seat just as the literature teacher stepped to the front of the classroom.
She was young, probably in her late twenties, with an artsy, intellectual appearance that immediately caught his attention. She introduced herself as Ms. Carter, her voice calm but enthusiastic and Harry could tell right away that she was passionate about the subject.
As the lecture continued, he found himself glancing around the room, taking in his surroundings. The classroom itself was cozy, with shelves of books lining the walls and a large window that let in the soft autumn light. But what really caught his attention were his classmates, some of them looking significantly older than him. He suddenly remembered that this school catered to students up to the age of 20, but it hadn’t fully sunk in until now that he’d be sharing classes with people who were practically adults. A guy sitting a few rows behind had a beard and big masculine posture, while a girl near the window looked like she could’ve been in university.
Harry felt a small pang of self-consciousness. Did he stick out as the younger one?
He shook the thought away, reminding himself that age didn’t matter. They were all here to learn and if anything, being surrounded by older students might push him to work even harder.
Leaning back in his chair, Harry let out a quiet breath and refocused on Ms. Carter’s lecture. She was now discussing Madame Bovary and how Flaubert’s attention to detail revolutionized the realist movement.
He spent the lunch break with Sasha and Nick in the cafeteria again, talking about his first impressions of the teachers and what they were learning in each class. They were laughing constantly and he was so caught up in catching up with everything that he completely forgot about the football team he signed up for.
Which he was supposed to attend today.
Shit.
Harry had only realised it when he passed the principal’s office on his way home and noticed the board with the posters he had seen on his first day. He quickly checked the time, relieved to see he still had ten minutes left so he studied the poster again to find out where he was supposed to go and noticed a line mentioning the school’s football field.
He mentally slapped himself. Where else did you think it would be, idiot?
He made his way through the hallway, stopping the first person he saw who looked older and might know more about the school. After asking about the pitch, the girl told him he might want to head to the lockers to meet the rest of the team there. She explained the way and he thanked her politely before starting his journey.
When he saw the big metal double doors with a sign that read “Locker Room,” he slowly pushed them open, peeking into the room but seeing no one. He walked down the aisle, looking around at the long rows of lockers with benches in between them and along the walls. He stood still for a few seconds, turning around and wondering if he was actually in the right place. It was five minutes until the start but still, no one was there.
Harry was beginning to wonder how old the poster was and if it was still up to date, until he heard the door slam behind him. Turning around, he saw three guys heading toward him and they immediately stopped talking when they noticed Harry standing by the lockers.
“Hello mate, are you lost?” asked the blonde one, his accent sounding slightly foreign… Irish, maybe?
The other two guys, one with ginger hair and the other with a buzzcut, walked past Harry to start opening their lockers and changing their shirts.
“I’m looking for the football training session and I was told it’s supposed to be here?” Harry said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.
The blonde guy smiled cheekily. “Yeah, you’re in the right place but… why are you here, though?”
“I signed up for the sessions so I’m here to play football with you, I guess,” Harry chuckled nervously, fixing his hair to make a decent first impression on his future teammate.
“Really? You came to join the team?” the guy blurted out, looking a little too stunned for Harry’s liking.
“Yeah, I’m new here and I saw a poster advertising this so I thought I’d give it a try,” Harry explained.
“Of course you’re new, I wondered why I’d never seen you before. But wow, we’ve never had a junior join our team before,” the blonde said, smiling and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“A junior?” Harry asked, confused.
“Well, if you just started here, you must be 16, right?”
“No, I switched schools. I’m 17.”
“Sick. But you might still be the youngest one here,” the guy laughed in a friendly manner before extending his hand. “I’m Niall, by the way.”
“Harry Styles,” Harry said as he shook Niall’s hand, smiling widely.
“So, Harry, do you like football?” Niall asked as more guys started filling the room, each heading to their own locker and pulling out their gear.
“I’ve never really been into football, though I’ve thought about starting a few times. I never actually went for it but since I got here, I figured… why not, you know?,” Harry offered, his big white smile and dimples showing.
“Don’t worry, mate, it’s an amazing sport. Once you start, there’s no going back and you’ll totally fall in love with it. I can fucking guarantee that,” Niall said excitedly, throwing his arm around Harry’s shoulders as if physical contact was his usual form of communication.
Niall seemed like a decent and positive guy, much better than Harry had expected, so he didn’t mind it at all.
To be honest, Harry had imagined being jumped by a group of muscular frat boys who would laugh in his face for ever thinking he had a chance to succeed here. This friendly greeting was a good way to start.
“Niall! Don’t you dare ask me for a ride next time if you can’t even wait for me a few fucking seconds!” a soft but raspy voice echoed through the room, making both Harry and Niall turn toward the sound.
Harry peeked out from behind Niall to see a small figure strolling down the aisle. The guy was wearing a short sleeved tee that showed off the tattoos on his arms and as he got closer, Harry immediately noticed his visible collarbones. Despite not being particularly tall or bulky, he looked fit and radiated a commanding energy.
When he finally reached them, he slapped Niall on the head, trying to look mad though he was probably just being sarcastic, judging by how Niall burst into laughter. Then he looked at Harry, his striking blue eyes darting from Harry’s face down to his toes and back up again.
He brushed his messy fringe out of his face before asking without much emotion, “Can I help you, pal?”
Before Harry could respond, Niall stepped in, holding Harry by his side. “This is Harry. He’s new at Holmes.”
“Can’t he talk?” the boy asked, raising his eyebrow.
“Shit, sorry,” Niall muttered, making a step back.
“So, as Niall said, my name’s Harry. I signed up for the football sessions because I saw-“
“You wanna play football?” the boy interrupted, sounding amused and surprised.
“Um, yeah?” Harry stuttered.
“Do you even know how to play?” the boy teased, giving Harry an up-and-down look as if judging his skills based on his appearance.
Harry was beginning to feel really uncomfortable.
“No… that’s why I’m here… for the training,” Harry hesitated, though he tried to make it sound like he’s answering the dumbest question anyone could ask. Because he was.
The boy burst into laughter, making Niall smile awkwardly and Harry’s frown deepen.
“You think this is some fucking kindergarten?” he asked, the laughter clearly not friendly.
And okay… Harry really wasn’t here to be made fun of by some rude snob who thought he was better than everyone else.
“And you are…?” Harry asked, feigning boredom to appear unbothered.
The boy calmed down, wiping fake tears from his eyes and putting his hands on his hips before his eyes fully locked onto Harry’s.
“Louis Tomlinson. Your captain. And you, Harry, have a week to prove to me that you’ve got even a bit of potential because I can’t afford to waste my time babysitting a random muppet who wants to try out a new hobby, alright?” Louis said, his fake smile lingering as he finished the sentence.
Harry’s eyes widened mid-sentence and though he might have been a little intimidated, he had no intention of showing it and feeding this guy’s ego. Instead, he smirked, trying to maintain his composure.
“Wow, nice to meet you too, Captain,” Harry replied teasingly.
Louis just rolled his eyes as he walked past Harry, almost as if erasing his presence immediately.
Then, he clapped his hands overhead loudly, voice echoing through the room: “Alright, lads, head outside and run a few laps around the pitch. I’ll be there in a second.”
He turned to his locker while the others obeyed and headed toward the double doors at the end of the aisle that presumably led outside.
As Harry started to follow them, he felt a hand on his shoulder from behind and turned to see Niall catching up to him.
“Sorry about that. He was just joking around,” Niall explained, offering a guilty but empathetic smile.
“He didn’t sound like he was joking.”
“He’s not like this all the time, I swear. He’s probably just having a shitty day.”
“That doesn’t mean he has to ruin it for everyone he encounters,” Harry retorted.
“No, of course not. I just wanted to assure you not to take it too personally. He always talks like that…” Niall laughed awkwardly. “Anyway, don’t let it ruin football for you.”
“Well, that’s going to be a bit hard since he’s my captain,” Harry sighed helplessly.
“Just prove him wrong… show him you’ve got it in you,” Niall advised, patting Harry’s back before running toward the field to join the others.
Harry took a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm while repeating Niall’s words in his head, hoping they were true.
Harry hadn’t expected to get a reality check so quickly but assuming he was at one of the best schools in the region, he knew he had to be more than just perfect.
What didn’t help the matter at all though, was that he had never played football before. At least not like this, not in a team. Only on sunny days when there was nothing else to do, he’d go to the park with Gemma or Sasha and Nick, kicking a ball around for fun.
He wasn’t exactly sure how to prove to Louis that he was worth it, so he decided he’d just try his best not to screw up and be himself. If that wasn’t enough then he would sign up for drama club and stick to what he was already good at.
Jesus… this football session was definitely going to be a challenge .
He shook the thoughts out of his head and ran forward to catch up with the rest of the team.
When the others noticed Louis walking alongside an adult woman, hopefully a real coach, they quickly formed a line, gathering to stand shoulder to shoulder. Harry hurried to join them, positioning himself at the end and mimicking their posture in hope it would help him blend in.
As Louis and the woman stopped in front of the group, Louis stepped into the line, leaving the woman to stand alone. She scanned the boys, her sharp eyes landing on Harry before a warm smile spread across her face.
“Looks like we got a new superhero joining the team. What’s your name, son?” she asked cheerfully.
“My name’s Harry Styles,” he replied loudly, ensuring everyone could hear him.
“Well, welcome to the team, Harry. I’m Amelia and I’ll be your coach,” she said, her tone friendly and encouraging before she blew into the whistle hanging around her neck, producing a shrieking sound that echoed across the field. “Just kidding,” she added with a laugh, clearly trying to lighten the mood.
“It’s nice to meet you. I hope I won’t be too much of a burden,” Harry said, lowering his voice slightly as he grinned.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t worry about that. It’s been a while since we’ve had a new player so I’m excited about this. And if you do need any extra help, your captain is always here for you,” she said, gesturing toward Louis who stood at the other end of the line.
I highly doubt that, Harry thought, but instead of voicing his skepticism, he simply smiled and nodded.
“Alright then,” Amelia said, clapping her hands together loudly before stepping back. “You can take it from here,” she added, glancing at Louis before walking toward the benches and taking a seat.
Louis stepped forward, clearing his throat to command attention. “So,” he began, his voice firm, “just a quick reminder in case any of you forgot why we’re here. We’re playing against the Knutsford team this winter hence I need every one of you to be in top condition, well-trained and prepared to win. We can’t afford to lose this one since it could drop us to third place in the division and we’ve worked too hard to let that happen. We’ve already come this far and we’re only going to get better from here, ain't that right lads?” he paused, waiting for nods and murmurs of agreement before continuing. “Stay focused and practice even in your free time. Don’t you dare take this for granted. Football is about teamwork so if we work together, it’ll make everything easier for all of us,” he finished with a curt nod.
“Now, someone come with me to help bring out the cones. We’re starting with slalom drills,” Louis ordered, already striding toward the building with four volunteers following him.
Harry nearly jumped when Niall’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear;
“You ever done this before?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” Harry admitted, frowning nervously.
“Don’t worry, it’s easy. You just have to-” Niall paused, grabbing a nearby ball and positioning it between his feet, “-move the ball like this while weaving around the cones without hitting them or losing control.”
“I know what slalom is,” Harry clarified. “I’m just not sure I’ll be able to get through without messing up.”
“Just stay light on your feet and use small touches to maneuver the ball. It’s not that hard once you practice a few times,” Niall reassured him, giving Harry’s shoulder a light punch.
Harry sucked in his lips and nodded, though he didn’t feel any more confident. He tried to convince himself he was overreacting and that it couldn’t be as difficult as it seemed.
Once the cones were set up in two straight lines, the boys formed two queues at the ends. Harry followed Niall, standing right behind him.
Louis stepped to the front of the line, a ball rolling effortlessly between his feet. “You know the drill,” he said before starting.
Harry couldn’t help but stare as Louis weaved through the cones, his movements so fluid it was as if the ball was glued to his feet, every touch precise, quick and deliberate. He used the inside of his foot to guide the ball around one cone, then the outside to flick it past the next, his body leaning effortlessly into each turn. His head was up, eyes scanning ahead but the ball still stayed close, never straying more than a few inches from his control.
Harry had never seen anyone make it look so easy.
When Louis passed the last cone, he turned the ball around and called out, “It’s yours, Li!” before kicking it hard toward the guy at the front of the line. Harry recognized him as the tall, muscular guy he saw back in his literature class.
He watched him move forward almost as smoothly as Louis, slaloming through the cones with ease and after completing the drill, he turned the ball around and slalomed back to the group. Harry glanced to his right and saw the other line of players moving just as effortlessly. His stomach churned as he thought about how embarrassing his attempt would be.
Louis was right, this wasn’t just a casual training session. This was a full-fledged football team preparing for a major match.
Niall snapped Harry out of his thoughts, turning around to say, “Watch what I do and try to copy,” before taking the ball and weaving forward.
Harry knew it was easier said than done. Still, he tried to calm his nerves, taking deep breaths to steady himself.
When Niall circled the last cone and was on his way back, Harry looked to his right and saw Louis moving to the second line. Thankfully, Louis wasn’t looking his way and Harry prayed it would stay that way.
Niall slowed down in front of Harry, carefully guiding the ball to his feet before hurrying back to the end of the queue.
Harry took a moment to breathe, positioning the ball between his feet before starting. He managed to pass the first few cones but faltered before even reaching the middle, knocking one over. He swore under his breath and glanced around to see if Louis had noticed.
He hadn’t. Louis was busy talking to another player, likely critiquing his technique.
Relieved, Harry turned back to the queue, locking eyes with the ginger boy who was next in line.
“Do you mind if I try again?” Harry asked as he made his way back to the start.
“Of course, go ahead,” the boy encouraged. “Take it slow. Focus on accuracy rather than speed.”
“Thanks, man,” Harry said with a grateful smile, trying to appear more confident than he felt.
He positioned himself at the starting point again, heart pounding as he focused on the line of cones ahead. He bent his knees slightly, leaning forward to stay balanced and took a deep breath.
Take it slow , he reminded himself, no rushing .
The first touch felt awkward but he managed to guide the ball around the initial cone with the inside of his right foot. Encouraged, he moved to the next one, this time using the outside of his left foot to flick the ball smoothly. Step by step, he found a rhythm, his confidence growing as he passed the first few cones without losing control.
By the time he reached the middle of the slalom, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was doing it… actually doing it.
Feeling bold, he picked up the pace, his touches becoming quicker but still controlled. The ball stayed close to his feet as he weaved through the cones, his movements gaining fluidity.
But just as he approached the final cone, his foot slipped on a patch of wet grass and even though his legs scrambled to recover, it was too late. The ball rolled away and Harry stumbled, catching himself before he could fully fall.
His breath caught in his throat as he watched the ball roll directly toward Louis, hitting right into his ankle.
Louis turned, glancing down at the ball before looking up in the direction it had come from and his eyes instantly locked with Harry’s.
He grinned nervously as Louis kicked the ball back to him, calling out, “Focus, Styles!”
Harry rolled his eyes and positioned himself to slalom back, but this time, it was with the weight of Louis’ gaze boring into his back. Harry moved slowly, decided not to rush at all as he swayed past the cones and kicked the ball from one foot to the other.
“You’re gonna have to be a bit faster next round,” Louis called out, causing Harry to lose focus and stop near the finish line.
“I can’t do it while you’re staring at me like that,” Harry shot back, immediately regretting it as Louis stepped closer.
“Well, guess what? There’s going to be hundreds of people watching you when you play the fucking game,” Louis barked, gesturing broadly before turning and walking away.
Harry watched him go, unable to ignore the fact that Louis’ bum in those shorts was probably more impressive than his manners.
He rejoined the end of the queue, letting a few players go ahead to delay his next turn.
When the muscular guy got behind him, he tapped Harry’s shoulder and asked, “You’ve never played football before?”
“Not like this, no,” Harry admitted, looking down at his feet.
“It’s fine. You’ll get there. We all had to start somewhere, right?” he offered with a comforting smile.
Harry nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“I’m Liam, by the way… the team’s goalkeeper,” he introduced himself.
“Nice to meet you, Liam,” Harry said with a genuine smile.
He couldn’t understand how the others could be so kind and patient with him while their captain couldn’t even muster a single encouraging word. Wasn’t Louis supposed to help his teammates improve, not tear them down? Harry wondered how Louis had even become captain in the first place.
Probably paid his way up, he thought bitterly.
When the session ended, the team quickly headed to the lockers. Some players hurried home or went to the showers while others lingered, chatting as they swapped their jerseys for regular clothes. The ginger boy introduced himself as Ed and offered Harry an unoccupied locker.
Harry tried to change as quickly as possible, facing his locker as he overheard Niall and Louis talking behind him.
“What about Friday?” Niall asked.
“Can’t,” Louis replied curtly, not even glancing at him as he rummaged through his locker.
“Come on, what’s gotten into you?” Niall pressed and Harry couldn’t help but wonder why Niall even bothered trying to reason with him.
Louis sighed loudly. “It’s that bitch again,” he said, finally meeting Niall’s gaze.
“Who? Cassie? Did you guys break up again?” Niall asked, sounding unsurprised.
“God, no. We just had a fight because she’s just-” Louis trailed off in build up frustration, struggling to find the right words. “Just- ugh, fuck it… I’ll explain on the way if you’re still up for the ride,” he said, grabbing a few more items from his locker before slamming it shut.
“Of course. How else would I get home?” Niall joked, following Louis out of the room.
Harry waited a few moments after the door closed before locking his locker and heading out, relieved to avoid walking with them.
When he finally arrived home, it was no surprise why he felt so utterly exhausted. After reaching his room, he immediately headed for the shower to wash off all the sweat from his body. Once he was done with that, he slipped into his briefs and flopped down on his bed, sighing deeply as he sprawled out across the entire mattress.
He leaned his head against the bed's headboard and turned on his phone, noticing a few new messages. Clicking on one, Harry saw that he had been added to a new group chat titled "Footie”. The coach had added him and he scrolled up a bit to see what the group was even for. He read a few older messages, mostly from Louis about canceled or postponed sessions so Harry didn't think much of it and closed the tab.
He wasn't sure when it happened but he must have fallen asleep while watching something on his phone because he woke up the next morning to the sound of his alarm ringing from the phone lying beside him on the bed. He blinked a few times, trying to regain consciousness before getting ready for school again.
Later that day, he was sitting at a table in the cafeteria with Sasha and Nick across from him, chatting about unimportant things.
Harry just took a bite of his sandwich when Sasha suggested going to her house after school the next day, wanting to watch some new movie.
"Can't tomorrow. I have this football session I unfortunately signed up for," he mumbled, his mouth still full.
"What? Football? W-what do you mean, football? Where?" Nick stuttered, urging Harry to elaborate.
"Here, at Holmes," Harry answered casually, gulping the remaining food down his throat.
"Are you fucking serious?!" Nick snapped loudly, causing a few heads to turn their way before people went back to their own conversations.
Harry glanced from Nick to Sasha and back, confused by his sudden reaction but just as he opened his mouth to say something, Nick continued;
"You're telling me you're in the Holmes FC team?"
Sasha just stared at Harry, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open.
"Um, yeah. Why? What's wrong with that?" Harry asked, still not understanding the fuss.
"What's wrong?!” Nick echoed in disbelief. “Harry, the team is full of these fucked-up frat boys who think they rule the world. They're involved in every drama around here and literally everyone knows them because all they do is party in their big mansions, take drugs and hook up with every girl at this school. They're nothing but trouble,” Nick blurted out, barely pausing to breathe.
"Shit, I didn't know that," Harry said, looking stunned. "Some of them were really nice to me... this guy named Niall even-"
"Jeez, Niall is friendly to everyone. That's what's so suspicious about him, you can't just be friends with everyone," Nick expressed. "But he's still not even the worst of them all. The one you should really watch out for… is Tomlinson," he warned, lowering his voice to a whisper before revealing the surname.
Harry thought the name sounded familiar and after a moment, it clicked.
“Louis?" he asked to confirm.
"Nick really can't stand him," Sasha explained, rolling her eyes playfully.
"Because he's a total wanker," Nick complained, looking genuinely angry just at the thought of him.
"Yeah, I've noticed," Harry admitted, nodding slightly.
"Did he say something to you?" Nick hurriedly leaned across the table.
"Well, yeah. He was really rude, putting me down from the moment I showed up," Harry recalled, not wanting to go into much detail.
Judging from what Nick was saying, he could probably imagine the rest.
"Exactly! That’s what he does! His daddy is rich and basically owns part of this school too so Tomlinson thinks he's a god who can do whatever he wants," Nick explained, throwing his hands up dramatically.
"Why is he even popular then? If he acts like an asshole toward everyone?" Harry genuinely wondered.
“Because, allegedly, a lot of people think he’s hot or something.” Nick rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.
"He is kinda hot, though,” Sasha admitted. “And I'm saying this as a lesbian which makes it that much worthier.”
Harry definitely understood where she was coming from, though he wasn't going to admit it. He had thought the guy was decent looking too until he opened his mouth. It was such a shame that someone with such a great cheekbones and body had the soul of a villain.
"That's such bullshit. He acts like shit so he also looks like one to me,” Nick argued stubbornly.
"Speaking of the devil-" Sasha alerted, nodding toward the cafeteria door where Louis had just entered.
His arm was draped over the shoulders of a blonde girl walking beside him, followed by a dark-toned boy with tattoos, sharp eyes and neatly styled hair.
Harry, Nick and Sasha watched carefully as they made their way to the other side of the room, stopping in a corner to join Niall and Liam who were already chatting there. The girl had slightly wavy hair that ended just below her shoulders, wearing a short checkered skirt, fishnet tights and a crop top with a print that read, "Better late than ugly." Her outfit was rather revealing, compared to Louis' jacket and long pants and Harry wondered if she’s not cold since it wasn’t summer anymore.
If his own girlfriend was dressed like that, he would definitely offer her his jacket.
"See? I told you she was gorgeous," Sasha said, nodding toward the blonde girl.
It took Harry a moment to realise what she was referring to. "Is that the girl you like?" he asked, his eyes wide.
"Yeah," Sasha confirmed easily.
"And Louis is that boyfriend of hers you talked about?" Harry's eyes widened even further, genuinely caught off guard by the coincidence.
"Duh, obviously. The hottest couple in school," Sasha snorted before taking a sip of her tea.
"And the most problematic one," Nick felt the need to add.
"Well, I overheard a conversation yesterday where he called her a bitch and said they'd had a fight, so I'm surprised they're here together now," Harry commented.
Nick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's normal. They're really toxic. They date for a week, break up for another and then get back together. The loop just goes on and on. Oh- and he's also apparently cheating on her at every opportunity," Nick added like he hadn’t said enough already.
"She should start doing that too and consider me as her sneaky link," Sasha smirked, flipping her hair dramatically and pretending to inspect her nails.
Harry laughed at her comment, the negativity of the previous conversation momentarily forgotten.
Sasha could never stay serious for more than a second, always having the urge to turn every situation into a joke. But that's what Harry liked about her… she just didn't care.
"That guy who came in with them is Zayn Malik. His dad is also a well-known and respected businessman, though he must've been proud of his son when the police found fifthy grams of weed during one house party," Nick continued, revealing another unsettling gossip.
"Oh shit… that's a lot," Harry thought aloud, “You don't have to worry though. I'll be fine. Louis will probably kick me out by the end of the week anyway if I don’t prove him that I can learn to play. It would really feel nice to bruise his ego a bit," he admitted, smirking by the end of his sentence.
"That's the spirit, Harold!" Sasha exclaimed, reaching over to pat his cheek.
"Just... be careful. Don't get yourself into any kind of trouble with them," Nick insisted, his tone genuinely concerned.
"You know I don't interfere with troubles," Harry replied with a lazy grin just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch break.
They said their goodbyes as they separated, each heading to their own lecture. Harry sprinted across the hallways, not wanting to arrive late to class and make a bad impression.
As he turned into the corridor, he noticed Ms. Carter already heading toward the classroom as well, the two of them meeting just by the door.
“I’m so sorry for running late, Miss,” Harry quickly apologised, still out of breath as he opened the door and held it for her like a true gentleman. “After you,” he added with a smile.
“It’s okay. You came just in time, didn’t you?” she joked, thanking him as she stepped into the classroom.
Harry followed right behind her, scanning the room before he noticed Liam again, sitting in his usual spot with no one beside him. Harry hesitated as he walked through the aisle, wondering if he should join him or find another seat. After all, Nick hadn’t mentioned Liam being part of the frat-boy-gang so Harry doubted he was involved.
Spotting an empty desk in the very last row behind Liam, Harry sped up, but just as he was about to pass by Liam, the guy looked up and noticed Harry approaching. A soft smile spread across Liam’s face as he waved at him, mouth opening slightly like he wanted to say something, so Harry slowed down his pace.
“Looking for a place to sit?” Liam asked, glancing around the crowded room before turning back to Harry.
“Yeah, this room always fills up so quickly,” Harry complained with a laugh.
“Well, you can sit down here. I’ll send Niall to the back,” Liam said, scooting his chair forward to make space for Harry.
“Thanks,” Harry said with a grateful smile, settling into the seat and pulling out his books, notes and pencil case.
It took him a moment to process what Liam had said.
Niall? Harry thought. Is he here too?
He hadn’t noticed him before, though he’d only been in this class twice, sitting at the front with only a little view of his classmates.
A few minutes passed and Ms. Carter already began her presentation when the classroom door suddenly swung open, immediately drawing Harry’s attention. Niall walked in, looking guilty but still offered a smile, followed by the one and only, Louis Tomlinson.
“Sorry, Miss,” Louis said simply, not even glancing at her as he trailed behind Niall to the back of the class.
“I hope this is the last time, boys,” Ms. Carter warned, not sounding particularly angry but maintaining an authoritative tone.
Harry gulped as they made their way toward him and as soon as Niall saw Harry sitting next to Liam, he raised an eyebrow though he was grinning anyway.
“Damn, Liam, I was about to scold you for giving up my seat but since it’s for this cheeky gentleman, I’ll let it slide,” Niall joked, keeping his voice low enough not to disturb the class.
Harry winked and Niall moved to the desk at the back while Louis frowned in confusion as he passed by, prompting Harry to look down at his books to avoid further eye contact.
“Get your ass up, Nialler, you know that’s my seat,” Louis said sarcastically, nudging Niall toward the aisle seat as he took the spot by the window.
Alright, next time I’ll have to come earlier if I want to find seat peacefully, Harry thought, leaning back in his chair and trying to focus on Ms. Carter’s presentation.
It was hard to concentrate with the constant whispering and chuckling coming from behind him, making Harry genuinely wonder how the teacher hadn’t noticed anything. Or maybe she had and simply chose to ignore it. Either way, it wasn’t even a bit surprising. Liam’s attention kept shifting between the guys behind him and the teacher, nodding or giggling at their comments.
And just as Harry was finally managing to focus on the lesson, he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to see Niall leaning forward with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Harry, do you think Mrs. Blackwood is hot?” Niall whispered, loud enough for Harry to hear.
“The gatekeeper?” Harry asked, thinking of the older woman at the school’s entrance who always scolded students for not wearing school shoes.
Niall nodded, both he and Louis staring at Harry expectantly, though the difference was that Niall was smiling while Louis was not.
Harry wasn’t sure if there was a correct answer or what exactly was it that they expected him to say, so he decided to be honest. Imagining Mrs. Blackwood in his head, he couldn’t help but make a disgusted face, which surprisingly made Louis burst into laughter.
“I told you you’re alone on this one,” Louis cackled, shoving Niall playfully.
Harry was shocked to see Louis actually smile. Or even laugh.
“Ah, you guys just don’t get it,” Niall said, leaning back in his chair with a wave of his hand.
“No, you’re just fucking weird,” Louis shot back, rolling his eyes but still smiling.
Just as Harry turned back to the front, thinking the conversation was over, Niall tapped him again.
“What about Mrs. Smith?” he asked, staring at Harry eagerly.
“Niall… no,” Harry deadpanned and Louis laughed again.
Yes, Louis laughed .
Again.
And even if he was laughing at Niall, it was still strange to see him so animated, his nose scrunching and his eyes nearly closing.
“Come on, man,” Niall said, waving his arms dramatically, still giggling. “Who do you think is oddly attractive then? Out of the teachers.”
Harry pouted, thinking for a moment.
The first person who came to mind was his history professor who had sharp features and looked surprisingly fit for his age, but Harry wasn’t sure if he could mention a man, unsure how they’d react. So instead, he decided to play it safe.
“Ms. Carter,” he whispered, glancing at the front to make sure she hadn’t heard.
“No, that’s such an obvious and boring answer,” Niall groaned while Louis just looked unimpressed.
Harry didn’t know how it slipped out but before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Alright then. It’s the history professor.”
“What? Mr. Redmond?” Niall asked, his brows rising.
Harry swallowed thickly when Niall and Louis looked at each other, staying quiet for a moment before bursting into laughter.
“No, I actually get it though,” Niall admitted between laughs.
“You do?” Louis asked, waiting for Niall to explain.
“I mean, just from the way he looks and acts, you can tell his wife is getting it all at home,” Niall joked, trying to stifle his laughter. “He probably chokes her while calling her ‘princess’ or something.”
“Ew, stop, i don’t want to visualise that,” Louis protested, still laughing.
Harry cackled at Niall’s comment, relieved that they didn’t make a big deal out of his answer or asked further questions, but then he realised they were laughing louder than they should.
He quickly glanced at Ms. Carter who was sitting at her computer, searching for another file to display. Harry sighed in relief and turned back to his notes, determined to focus on the lesson. Niall and Louis continued their conversation but Harry managed to tune them out, scribbling down notes until the bell rang.
Harry was packing up his things when he heard Niall say, “See you tomorrow, pal,” and pat Harry’s back as he walked by, not waiting for a response.
Harry froze for a moment, realising what that meant: tomorrow was another football session.
He sighed, already dreading the thought of practice after school.
Things only got worse after two more classes where he found out they are having an exam the next day. The subjects weren’t particularly difficult and Harry remembered most of the material but the stress of his first exam at this school still weighed on him. He didn’t want to start off with bad grades so he decided to review the material, even if it meant pulling an all-nighter.
But first, while there was still daylight, he needed to practice.
The weather had already looked ominous when he left school and by the time he got home, it was pouring. Of course.
Still, Harry had no choice.
He changed into old clothes and rummaged through the garage for items to use as cones. He found several empty plastic bottles, filled them with a bit of water to keep them stable and packed them into a large IKEA bag along with a ball. The bag was heavy but to his luck, the public pitch was right in front of his house, just across the street.
As Harry stepped outside, the rain drenched him instantly but he knew he had no other choice than to endure it. At least the pitch would be empty, giving him the privacy he needed.
By the time he got there, his hair was soaked, curls falling into his eyes as he arranged the bottles in a straight line on the pitch. The rain poured down in relentlessly, turning the area into a glistening expanse but he barely noticed it. His focus was entirely on the line of water bottles, their shapes barely visible through the downpour. The ball at his feet felt heavier, the rain making it harder to control but he was determined.
He started slowly, nudging the ball forward with the inside of his right foot, weaving around the first bottle. The second bottle came quickly and he switched to the outside of his left foot but the ball skidded away, rolling into the mud.
Harry cursed under his breath, jogging to retrieve it.
He set it back at the starting point and tried again, this time taking smaller, more deliberate touches, determined to keep going even with the rain making the ball slippery and his boots squelching in the soggy grass.
By the third attempt, he managed to get halfway through the line of bottles before losing control again. Frustration was beginning to bubble up but he pushed it down, reminding himself to stay patient.
He wiped the rain from his face and started over, this time a little faster and the ball slipped away almost immediately.
Harry groaned, kicking a bottle in frustration. “Come on. Focus.”
As the minutes turned into hours, Harry began to find a rhythm. His touches became lighter, more precise and he started to anticipate how the ball would move on the wet ground. He increased his speed gradually, each round a little quicker than the last and by the tenth attempt, he was making it through the entire line of bottles without losing the ball, though his movements were still cautious.
The rain continued to hammer down but Harry barely noticed now, his determination driving him forward. He decided he wouldn’t stop until he could complete five rounds in a row without a single mistake. The first attempt ended at the third bottle, the second at the fourth and on the third try, he made it all the way through but lost the ball on the turn.
He clenched his fists, took a deep breath and tried again.
This time, he moved with a newfound confidence, his feet dancing lightly over the grass as he guided the ball smoothly around each bottle. One round. Then two. Then three. And by the fourth, his heart was pounding loudly, not just from exertion but from the thrill of getting so close. On the fifth round, he moved faster than he had all afternoon, his touches quick but controlled. When he reached the last bottle, he spun the ball around and dribbled back to the start, a wide grin spreading across his face.
He’d done it.
The sky was almost completely dark now, rain still falling steadily as Harry took a moment to just stand there, breathing heavily, his clothes clinging to him and his curls plastered to his forehead. He felt exhausted but exhilarated, a sense of accomplishment warming him despite the cold.
As he gathered the water bottles and tucked the ball under his arm, he couldn’t help but smile. He was soaked to the bone and his muscles ached but he didn’t care. He’d gotten better and that was all that mattered.
When he got home, he immediately headed for the shower, letting the warm water cascade over his tired body. He stood there, too tired to move, waiting until the fresh water washed away the raindrops clinging to his skin. After drying himself off with a towel, he changed into clean, dry clothes, finally feeling human again. Remembering the exams he needed to revise for, he grabbed his books and notes before carrying them to his bed. Propping himself up against the headboard, he began reading through his notes. Two more hours had passed and he was determined to stay awake for a little longer, but his body had other plans.
Harry blinked once, twice and suddenly, his eyes opened to the morning sunlight streaming through his curtains. He groaned, looking down at himself and noticing his books scattered across the bed, probably from falling asleep while studying.
Pushing himself up, he opened the window to let in a rush of fresh air. The sky was a brilliant blue now, the rain from yesterday having cleared away completely and Harry felt a surge of energy at the sight of the rare sunny day.
Today’s going to be much better, he reminded himself as he got ready for the day ahead.