Friends Till The End

My best friends and I were inseparable, happy, and content to live within the closed world of our neighborhood. We lived inside a small community where what only happened inside was important and everything outside was irrelevant.

My name is Harry Styles and my best friends were Liam Payne, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik. We were all eleven years old at the time.

We all met in the third grade and immediately created a competition to see who could pull of the best prank in our school. And once we all got busted for wrapping the most hated teacher's car with thirty to forty boxes of cling wrap, we knew we were going to be friends forever.

Our neighborhood was a structured code of behavior with an unwritten set of rules that could be physically enforced. Crimes against the residents were not allowed and everything was suspected as a scam. It was a place of innocence ruled by corruption.

Friendships were as important as neighborhood loyalty. Your friends gave you a sense of identity and a sense of belonging.

With them, you could laugh, tell stupid jokes, trade insults and books, and talk about sports and movies. You could even share your secrets and sins.

Life in the neighborhood was hard. Life without friends was harder. Most kids were lucky enough to find one friend they could count on. I found four. All of them older, probably wiser, and no doubt smarter. There is no memory of my early years that does not include them.

They were a part of every moment I enjoyed.

-

We were down 7-5 in a last inning baseball game with two outs against a kid named Charlie Schmidt and four of his friends. Zayn was at the plate clutching the bat while I stood a few feet in back of him, eating a donut and backing up Charlie’s pitches. Niall, Louis, and Liam were standing near the fences waiting their turn at bat next to Big Papa’s car, the meanest man in the neighborhood who happened to own the local candy store.

“You gonna swing at anything asshole?” Charlie asked as Zayn let two pitches go past him. “Or you just gonna watch me throw the ball?”

“Wait for your pitch Zayn,” I said licking my fingers. “We really need a hit, but remember that you still have to swing.”

Zayn let another pitch go past him when a girl in a wheelchair came rolling her way in the direction where Charlie could see her.

“C’mon Charlie,” she cheered. “Strike out this loser, he’s got nothing!”

Zayn turned to his left and stared at her, watching her chew her gum with both of legs cut off at the knees, dead flesh hidden by her shorts she was wearing.

“Who is that?” Zayn asked me.

“His sister,” I said nodding towards Charlie.

“C’mon Zayn.” Niall, Liam, and Louis shouted, anxiously wanting to bat.

“What happened to her?” Zayn asked, sounding more concerned for her instead of the game we were losing.

“She had some kind of cancer that was in her legs. The only way to stop it from spreading was to cut both of them off. Not really sure.” I shrugged. “Pay attention to the game.”

“Strike these scumbags out,” the girl hollered. “They can’t touch you Charlie, they can’t touch you!”

“Swallow your tongue, cripple.” Big Papa yelled out at her. “You got a lot of talk for a girl with no legs.”

Zayn stepped closer to the plate, his eyes leveled with Charlie’s but still cornered on the girl in the wheelchair. Charlie pitched a good ball which Zayn swung horribly at on purpose.

“Easy, Zayn.” I growled. I’d never seen an expression like that on his face before.

“She’s really cute,” Zayn said turning back to look at her.

“What the fuck you looking at, little dick?” the girl snapped at him.

“And she’s nothing but charm.” I said turning him back around.

“I don’t have a little dick,” Zayn whispered to me in a low voice.

“Look alive and take your pitch!” Liam shouted.

“You can take him,” Niall screamed. “You can take him Zayn!”

Niall, Liam, and Louis’s words meant nothing to Zayn. He could not forget about the girl. He swung at the third pitch just as badly and missed, giving us our third out and losing the game.

“Told you he wasn’t shit.” Charlie’s sister said rolling her wheelchair towards him.

“Dammit!” Louis screamed, hitting on the hood of Big Papa’s car.

“You hit that car again and I’ll bite your hands off with my teeth.” Big Papa clenched, really upset what Zayn had done.

“Bite this off with your teeth.” Louis shot back, grabbing his crotch while walking towards me and Zayn.

“Ain’t big enough.” Big Papa yelled back.

“You could’ve helped her cross the street or bought her an ice cream,” Liam said at Zayn. “You didn’t have to give up the game.”

Zayn seemed to zone us out as he watched Charlie wheel away his sister, smiles on both of their faces. I knew why he had done it; I just did not understand why he had done it.

Five minutes later we were sitting in front of Big Papa’s candy store drinking refreshing Sprite out of glass bottles and watching Hector brag about the game to some older guys.

“He ain’t better than you,” Big Papa said.

“He was today.” Zayn responded back to him.

“No, you let him be. You let him win.” Big Papa rubbed in. “All because you had a thing for a girl with no legs.”

“Stay out of this, fat man.” Zayn warned, “It has nothing to do with you.”

“You boys are soft,” Big Papa said. “Soft like bread. It’s gonna catch up. And when it does, it’ll hurt, bad.”

“Hold the talk, fat man,” Niall butted in. “What happens is our business.”

“Going soft is habit,” Big Papa continued. “You can’t act like that out here, not on these streets. Out here the bitch got eyes.” Big Papa said, pointing at the pedestrians of the neighborhood.

“Take it easy,” I said. “It was just a baseball game.”

“You gotta keep yourself mean, it’s the only way out for little punks like you.” Big Papa pleaded.

“Thanks a lot, fat man,” Zayn said. “We’ll think about it.”

“You do that, skinny prick. Big Papa said. “You do that.”

In truth, we were all a little surprised by Zayn’s actions. It was not his way to show vulnerability, especially towards someone he did not know. It was also not his style to lose at anything for anyone’s sake. It is something Niall, Louis or Liam would have done without hesitation and something I might have done if I had given it any thought. But for Zayn to do it caused us all to pause.

None of us liked to lose, and yet here we had just lost and we didn’t know the reason why. Zayn sensed our uneasiness but said nothing. In his mind, losing that game and handing a feeling of victory to a girl in a wheelchair was more than the right thing to do.

It was more than a courageous thing to do. It was the only thing to do.

Notes