Felicity

Last night was probably the worst sleep of my life. I must have woken up about eighty-seven times throughout the span of just two short hours. I don't even want to know many times I woke up during the whole night. I tossed and turned and at times I felt like throwing up. Thankfully it never came to that. I'd be mortified if I threw up in the bathroom. 

My head was throbbing with one of the worst headaches I've ever had. I swear all that alcohol I drank last night was playing games with my head because I dreamt that I was dancing on bar tops with people I didn't know. And that is so not me. I also had a dream that felt too real, one in which I gave Harry a kiss on the cheek and cuddled up against his body like a human pillow. I don't think that actually happened but it felt like it did. Just thinking about it now makes my heart beat a little faster. I'm not sure if I should be worried about that.

I don't remember a lot from last night. I'm aware that we went to a jazz club to see Zayn play the piano and we went to a couple of bars following the club. But after meeting those two ladies that are friends with Zayn, I can't remember what happened. That makes me nervous. Not knowing what I did last night doesn't sit well with me. Just the thought of this makes me want to throw up.

As I sit up in the bed, I notice a glass of water on the bedside table. Not caring who it belongs to, I grab the glass and drink the entire thing. It doesn't stop the room from spinning beneath me, but it does suppress my sudden urge to vomit. I set the glass back down and drop my head into my hands. I'm tired, my body is sore, my head is throbbing, and my stomach is beginning to growl due to hunger. Maybe getting food in my system is what I need to feel a little better. 

Looking to my side, it's just now that I realize I'm in the room alone. The bed is empty except for myself and Harry is nowhere to be seen. I assume he's already wide awake and moving around, and I'm kind of embarrassed to know that I'm probably the only one in this house that hasn't gotten out of bed. 

My body moves slow as I get up, stumbling for a moment as I try to hold onto any shred of balance I may have within me. I keep my eyes shut until I feel myself steady because I know that I'll probably get sick if I keep them open. Once I believe everything is okay, I move around the room and change out of my clothes from last night. I slip on a pair of leggings and pull on a sweater. I wash my face in the bathroom, brush my teeth for a solid five minutes, and comb my hair into a high bun. I still don't feel better but at least I look better.

When I step into the hallway, I can hear the faint sounds of a television mixed with familiar voices. I follow the noise until I reach the kitchen, seeing Zayn sitting at the table with a newspaper in hand. He's laughing and reading one of the articles out loud while simultaneously using his free hand to turn down the volume of the TV. Harry stands at the other side of the kitchen, cooking something on the stove. It's Zayn that notices me first. He lowers his newspaper and smiles brightly.

"Good morning! How are you feeling? Do you have a headache?"

Harry turns around and looks over at me. I swear I can see excitement cross his face but it disappears faster than it arrived. He offers a hesitant smile before bringing his attention back to the stove. Did I do something last night to upset him?

I sit down at the table beside Zayn and lean back in the chair. "My head definitely hurts."

"I figured. You did drink quite a lot last night," he reaches over and rubs his hand up and down my back. I'm disappointed that it doesn't have the same soothing effect that I feel when Harry does it. "But you'll be alright. Nothing a few Advil can't solve. I blame Christina and Kay. They can be very pushy about alcohol. Here, I'll get you some water."

He stands up from the table and walks over to the fridge. There's something about him that looks different, and it takes me a few moments before I realize it's the fact that he's wearing a tank top. He's always worn a blazer or something covering his arms so I've never been able to see the tattoos that are inked all over his skin. 

Both arms are nearly covered in tattoos. I can see a tiger on one arm and a snake on his shoulder. There's a couple of skulls, a checkered flag, and what I believe is some kind of flower design on the top of his hand, one that I didn't notice was there yesterday. Through the thin white material of his shirt I can see even more tattoos on his chest, and as he faces away from me, I can spot more on his upper back. Unlike the tattoos on Harry's arm, Zayn's are all very intricate and cohesive. They flow from one design to the next and even from afar I'm able to admire the art.

Harry sets a plate of three pancakes down in front of me, the sound of the ceramic hitting the wooden table startling me from my trance. He takes a step back and scratches the top of his head like he's not quite sure what to say.

"Um. Well ... I made pancakes. I hope you like them. They're just plain but I can put bananas or something in the next batch if you want."

"These are great. Thank you," I smile up at him and stop him from rambling. 

He awkwardly nods his head and opens his mouth to say something more but quickly shuts it and walks back to the stove. He puts a few pancakes on two more plates and sets them on the table for himself and Zayn. I take the glass of water from Zayn as he sits down, thanking him as well for the two little pills of Advil. 

"What time is it?" I ask as I realize I never even checked my phone this morning. It didn't even occur to me to just check to make sure I still had it after last night's festivities. My brain is completely in a fog.

"It's still pretty early. Just half past eight," Zayn answers after taking a bite of his pancakes. "When are you planning to leave?"

"Maybe in an hour if we're ready," Harry shrugs as he cuts his pancakes into tiny triangular pieces. 

I eat my food in silence and listen to the two guys chat with each other. I don't really have much to add to their conversation anyway. I'm more concerned with the headache that refuses to go away. Maybe the Advil hasn't quite kicked in yet. The food helps a little bit, but not enough for me to totally feel better.

After breakfast, Zayn cleans up the dishes and Harry does his best to tidy up the counter tops on which he spilled pancake mix earlier. Ten minutes later, Zayn excuses himself from the room, walking up the stairs and informing us that he's just going to take a quick shower. He waves his hand and mumbles something about grabbing anything else we need or think we'd want for our drive. 

It grows silent between Harry and I, something I find to be extremely odd. I'm nervous that I might have done something last night that I don't remember, something that has caused him to be so stiff around me. I wonder if he will tell me or if I have to be the one to ask him about it.

He walks back to the room we shared last night, so I follow shortly after. He gets to packing right away, shoving clothes into his bag without concern to fold them first. I feel weird just watching him pack, so I begin to search the room for my phone. It's only a few moments of me lifting pillows from the bed and pulling back the sheets until Harry correctly assumes what I'm looking for, noting that it's in the pocket of the jacket I wore last night. 

As I fish the phone out of the clothing, I roll my eyes at the notifications that pop up on the screen. Three missed calls from my mother, one missed call from Sierra, and eight calls and twelve texts from Colton. The red notification bubbles at the corner of the apps make my headache worse. I know what I can expect if I give them a call back.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say but I know you want me to apologize for something so I'm sorry," the first text reads. Colton is never the first one to apologize, which makes me think that he's being sincere about this, and his next text makes me want to call him. "Felicity please answer me. I need you to say something."

But as I continue on, his texts grow more and more irritating to read. I feel frustrated and annoyed. It's as if a switch has flipped and he's back to his demanding self. "Just fucking answer your phone. I'm tired of this bullshit." I exhale a deep breath and read on. "You're ruining my break. I could have gone to Florida with my friends but I decided to stay here and wait for you to come visit. Find somewhere else to stay."

Nothing makes any sense. There are so many things I'm confused about. What is he talking about with Florida? I didn't know he was planning to go there. I thought he couldn't afford to go anywhere over the break, which doesn't make sense in the first place because money has never been an issue for him. Did I misinterpret the conversation we had prior to me coming out on this trip? I don't know what's going on, but this entire situation makes my chest hurt. 

"What's going on? Are you okay?" Harry's voice startles me as I'm pulled out of my own little world. His green eyes watch me carefully, first glancing down at the phone in my hands before looking back at me with concern. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I - uh - was just reading messages."

"They must not be very nice messages. The look on your face gives it away."

I toss my phone onto the pillow as I sit down on the bed. "I'm just so confused. Am I doing the right thing by being on this trip? Should I have taken the flight to California yesterday? Am I being lied to? Is this relationship even worth it? Do-"

"Who's lying to you?" Harry interrupts as his brows draw together in confusion.

I want to say Colton, but I don't even know if that's actually true. My mind could be making things up right now. I can't forget that I'm pretty hungover at the moment and I'm sure that my brain is not able to think clearly. 

"I don't know," I respond to Harry as I exhale a defeated breath. "I'm just stressed out, I guess."

"You're stressed," he scoffs. His words are so quiet as he mumbles them, I can barely hear him. "Try being me for a day on this trip."

I'm just about to ask him to repeat himself, because I'm not sure if what I just heard was correct, but he quickly changes the subject by asking me to help him tidy up the room. We finish packing our things and making the bed, in between mini arguments about where the pillows should be placed on the bed to make it look nicer. Our competitive sides began to show when we started racing around the room to see who could clean up their mess the fastest. 

By the time it reaches 9:30AM, Harry and I are completely packed and ready to go. He grabs my duffle bag and brings it to the front door as I follow right behind. I'm beginning to get used to Harry's gentlemanly acts, like holding my bag and opening doors for me and never being rude to others. This isn't something I ever experienced with Colton, and I feel like I'm being totally spoiled by Harry. Whenever I get back to Colton, I'm going to be sorely disappointed with the difference in behaviors. 

Zayn stands in the kitchen all freshly showered and dressed. He's back to wearing the same kind of clothes that I met him in yesterday: nice trousers and a neatly pressed jacket. Almost all of his tattoos are covered back up and it's like they never even existed. When he sees the two of us, he sets down the newspaper in his hand and flashes a small frown.

"Is it time already for you guys to leave?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. We have a long drive ahead of us. Austin is pretty far," I shrug my shoulders and sigh. Just thinking about this drive gives me another headache. Hopefully I'll be able to sleep.

"It's around eight hours, isn't it?"

"Just about," Harry nods his head and steps forward to give Zayn a hug. "Thanks for letting us stay here. Seriously appreciate it."

"Well of course! You're always welcome here anytime you come back," Zayn smiles as he pats Harry on the back. "Don't be a stranger."

Zayn embraces me in his arms for a warm hug before he walks us over to the door. I zip my jacket all the way up and say my thanks as I step out into the cold. It's a bittersweet goodbye. I'm kind of looking forward to visiting Austin but I'm slightly upset this stop in New Orleans was so short.

After one last goodbye, Harry and I finally walk down the street. We do our best to retrace our steps from yesterday, walking back to the lot in which we left his car. I'm surprised there aren't as many people or cars out at this time because it really isn't that early. If last night was any indication, I'd say the entire city is still asleep. 

Ten minutes later, we reach Harry's white car. We stuff our bags into the trunk and quickly slip inside. I turn the heat all the way up, earning a disapproving look from Harry and a comment about how it's going to get really stuffy in here, but he doesn't do a thing to turn it down. I simply roll my eyes at him and grab the paper thin fabric he calls a blanket from behind my seat, wrapping it around my shoulders in an attempt to warm myself up. 

As we wait for the car to defrost, Harry sets up the navigation on his cell phone and carefully places it on top of the radio. It's awkwardly quiet between us. I can sense that there's something on his mind but I don't want to be nosy by asking about it. Emotions cross his face and show through his eyes. He's not very good at hiding his feelings, that's for sure.

"So," I speak up to break the silence. I want to ask him what he's thinking about but I can't seem to get the words out. "I guess last night was fun."

Harry nods his head and puts the car into reverse, backing out of the parking spot. "Yeah it was good. I didn't know you love to dance so much."

"What are you talking about? I never dance."

"You don't remember?" He forces a laugh but it almost comes out as more of a scoff. "You danced almost the entire night with Zayn's friends after we left the speakeasy. We couldn't get you down from the bar tops."

I can feel my face turn the brightest red it's ever been. I'm pretty sure I could be mistaken for a tomato. Maybe what I thought was a dream last night was actually reality. "Wh-what ... I did that?"

The bars were absolutely packed last night, I do remember that. The thought of me dancing up on the bar tops in front of all those people makes me want to die of embarrassment. I mean, I know those are people I'm literally never going to see again, but I cannot believe I was that drunk to get up there. Sierra would kill to see me like that, but Colton ... he would actually kill me if he saw that happening.

"But you looked like you were having a lot of fun. I've never seen you smile so much," Harry laughs as he switches lanes and glances at me for a split second. The moment he stares back out at the road ahead, his face grows serious and his voice is hesitant. "Uh. Do you ... do you remember anything from last night?"

I shamefully shake my head. "God, no. I barely remember throwing a dart at a map to choose our next destination. Everything after that is a complete mystery to me."

Harry slowly nods his head and I swear the look of heartbreak crosses his face for a fraction of a second. I would have missed it if I wasn't looking at him. 

"Yeah. I figured you wouldn't."

"Did I do something else?" I ask as my curiosity begins to rapidly grow inside me. Could I have done even more to embarrass myself? 

Harry's eyes are focused on the road in front of us. He refuses to look at me, which makes me feel like I've done something wrong. I'm nervous to hear what he has to say because I literally could have done anything. I find myself holding my breath in anticipation and anxiety for whatever words will come out of his mouth. But when he shakes his head in rejection, I feel myself able to breathe easy again. 

"No. All you did was drink and dance."