You and Louis had been friends for a while. You got along well. Really well. You were both sixteen in year eleven in secondary school. Over the last few months, every time that Louis would get too close, or look at you with those ridiculously blue eyes, or give you that stupid boyish grin, you felt your stomach churn. You didn’t understand it, and you didn’t tell anyone. One day, you rounded a corner in school, and saw Louis. He was with a girl. Eleanor Calder. You watched for a moment, but before you knew it, his lips were on hers. He was kissing her. You stood, frozen momentarily, before your stomach churns, this time in a bad way, and turn and walk off to go home. You walk briskly. Why did it feel like you were going to be sick?