Felicity

"Andy, no! Stop, you're going to ruin everything!" I shout as I slap his hand away. It's not a terribly painful slap, but it's firm enough to let him know I'm not joking around. Well ... I'm kind of joking. As I glare at him, I gently shove him to the side. "Go occupy your time doing something productive, like cleaning your room or putting on a shirt."

He runs his hand through his messy hair before shaking his head. "I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm just trying to help with breakfast, so ... take a chill pill or something."

Rolling my eyes at him, I gently shove him to the side again. "You will just mess it up. Leave it to the professionals, A.K.A. me."

Andy lets out the loudest cackle I've heard in a long time. "Fel, the last I remember, you burned scrambled eggs  and dropped the gallon of milk trying to pour a bowl of cereal. I highly doubt you're a professional in the kitchen."

"I was in the eighth grade!"

"It's tainted your cooking reputation," he teases, an annoying smirk across his face.

"I was just a child then! I can cook now. Get out of here and let me do this."

"No! I'm going to help you out!"

"No!"

The two of us sound like the most annoying pair of children as we stand in the kitchen arguing in our pj's. If I thought Harry and I sounded ridiculous when we bickered, Andy and I sound even more absurd. He does everything he can to bug me while I try so hard to fight him off. He pokes me in my sides, messes with my hair, takes items from my reach, and squeezes me between himself and the counter. Even though he's slightly annoying, I can't help but laugh at everything. 

I can't explain how much I've missed talking to Andy every day and hanging out with him after school. We always had such a great time getting into things we shouldn't have and occasionally getting ourselves into trouble with my mother. It was all fun and games between us and there never seemed to be a dull moment. It wasn't the same kind of fun that I would have with Sierra. With her everything seemed to be a little out of my comfort zone, where things with Andy were at a safe level of comfort. 

As I turn towards the counter to grab a bowl, Andy mutters something about wanting to help out, reaching for the same bowl. There's a very brief moment in which we play tug-o-war before the plastic bowl flies out of our hands and onto the floor. A piercing clang echoes throughout the apartment as it bounces along the kitchen floor, leaving a mess of raw eggs that were once inside the bowl.

"Look what you did!" I direct at Andy as I watch splattered egg yolk slowly spreading on the floor.

"Me?! I told you I was going to grab it!"

"I told you to get out of the kitchen and let me handle everything!"

"And see where that's gotten you!"

Simultaneously the two of us groan at the mess on the floor before we bend down to clean it up, knocking heads in the process. My hand immediately reaches up to press against my forehead on the spot that bumped Andy, all the while falling to the floor as I lose my balance. I can feel the pain throbbing in my head, squeezing my eyes shut in the hopes that it will dull the ache. When I peek one eye open to look over at Andy, I start to laugh as I see him lying on the floor with his hands on his forehead.

"Shit. That hurt."

"You're telling me," I scoff and rub my head once more before I lean back against the cabinets. "You've got a hard head, it was like bumping into a bowling ball."

"What's going on in here?" Harry appears from behind the kitchen island, rubbing his eyes awake and squinting at the two of us. 

Guilt floods through my body as I realize all the commotion Andy and I have been making in the kitchen has woken up Harry. He looks deprived of sleep as his hair is a tangled mess and his eyes are struggling to stay open. He just stands there watching us in nothing but his briefs and some thick socks. 

"Ah shoot," I frown at him as I try to stand up from the floor. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just trying to make some french toast for everyone. You did breakfast yesterday, so I thought I should do this morning. But ... it's not going very well ... as you can see."

Harry shakes his head as his body sways ever so slightly. He's bouncing back and forth between staying awake and heading back to sleep. "I can make breakfast."

"No, no. I've got it under control ... sort of," I look down at the splattered egg yolks on the floor. "I'm fine. It's fine. Just go sit down or something."

He rubs his hands over his face before taking in a deep breath and glancing over at me. Those green eyes of his nearly melt me on the spot. I might as well be a mess on the floor next to these egg yolks.

"Babycakes, it doesn't look like you're getting very far. At least let me help."

"Okay, fine."

"What?!" Andy stares at me in disbelief as he stands up. "How is it that you'll let him help you out, but when I ask it's a firm no?! What the hell."

I watch Harry as he walks back to his duffle bag, digging through it to find a sweater before pulling the material over his head. He doesn't bother to put anything else on, so as he slowly makes his way back to the kitchen, I find myself staring at his bare legs.

I don't know how long I've been staring, or how long I've been making it obvious that I'm staring, but soon enough I realize that the mess on the floor no longer exists. Andy has cleaned up the kitchen as Harry has begun to remake the french toast I once started.

"Are you going to help out or just stand there?" Andy questions, his voice pulling me out of my trance. 

I shake my head as if I'm trying to shake off the spell I seemed to be under. "I'll help. Just tell me what to do."

Andy rolls his eyes before handing me a mug. "Make some coffee. We have a Keurig, so you can't mess that up."

As I walk over to the coffee maker, loudly huffing my discontent for Andy to hear, Harry lets out an amused chuckle. My current annoyance nearly makes me want to throw the mug at him, but I figure that would only prove Andy's point that I'm no good in the kitchen whatsoever. Instead, I quietly pop a K-cup into the machine and watch the dark liquid fill up the mug. Who knew that watching coffee drip into a mug, listening to the sound of the liquid splashing inside the ceramic cup, could calm me so easily? By the time I've come to this realization, I've got four mugs full of the caffeinated drink in front of me.

I can see the look upon Harry's face, curious as to whether or not I actually need all this coffee, and I can also see the look upon Andy's face, wondering if I'm mentally stable. Honestly at this point I don't even know if my brain is working. Taking one of the many mugs, I claim it as mine as I add in some vanilla flavored creamer until it becomes a light beige color. 

Eventually, and to no surprise, Andy gives up on helping Harry cook breakfast. He grabs one of the coffee mugs and sits beside me at the island counter, pinching me at my waist. I loudly yelp and smack him on the arm just as Harry glances over at us. His brows are drawn together in skepticism as he gives us the kind of look a mother would send her children if they were constantly bickering and being annoying. 

I can't help but laugh at Harry acting so domestic as he makes breakfast. I don't know why I find it surprising when he cooks because he's made a lot of food throughout this trip ... and he's good at it. I want to help out but it looks like he can't be bothered with me attempting to do anything. When he's almost finished with the french toast, he gives me the simple task of grabbing plates for everyone and orders Andy to cut up some fresh fruit in the fridge. 

It isn't until everything is completely finished that Maz walks out from his room. His hair is a mess and his eyes squint at the bright kitchen lights. He rubs his eyes awake before sniffing the air.

"What is that smell?" His line of vision travels from me to Harry to Andy. "Who did the cooking? Was it you, Harry? What have you prepared this morning?"

"French toast," I hand Maz a plate after Harry places two slices on top and Andy tosses a few haphazardly chopped fruit on the side. 

He leans down and sniffs the slices of bread as he walks toward the kitchen table. "Fuck, it smells delicious."

Harry proudly smiles before passing a plate to me. "Some for you, too."

I thank him as I take the food and sit down at the table beside Andy. As the four of us sit together eating the breakfast that Harry so kindly prepared, the boys start a conversation of their own. I sit quietly and listen in on everything that is being said. It's not like they are purposely excluding me from their chat, I just don't have anything to contribute. Plus, I kind of enjoy seeing Harry and Andy speak as if they've known each other for years. 

Their conversation shifts to the topic of their mutual friend Liam. Maz mentions a night club, one that I don't quite catch the name of, that they partied at the last time they were in Vegas. Andy makes a comment about Liam owning it, which I find a little hard to believe. I mean, this Liam guy sounds so young to own a night club in Vegas, having built it from the ground up, nonetheless it being a very popular one. But I can't deny that I want to go to it. The way they are talking about the atmosphere and the music and the drinks makes me really interested in going. I've never gone to a night club ... maybe Harry wants to go, too. 

"So what do you think about Vegas?" I hear him ask the guys.

It takes me a moment to realize the sudden silence in the room is because he actually directed the question at me. I can feel all three pairs of eyes staring at me until I look up at them. I attempt to shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, concealing the excitement I truly feel.

"Vegas sounds cool. How far is the drive?"

"Nineteen hours pretty much," Andy speaks through a mouth full of food. "It's long as fuck. I'd recommend splitting it in two days, staying the night somewhere."

Harry cuts a piece of his french toast, holding it up on his fork. "That's not bad. Where would we stop?"

"Albuquerque is just about halfway there," Andy points out before he takes the last gulp of his coffee.

"I'm so jealous," Maz pouts his bottom lip and sighs. "I want to go to Vegas."

"We were just there two months ago!" Andy laughs as he shakes his head.

"Two months is a long time!"

"You can only take Vegas in small doses. Next time we go, we aren't staying that long," Andy runs a hand through his hair. He stares at the food in front of him like it's an overwhelming sight. "I love Liam, but I just can't stay in Vegas for more than three days. All you really need is one good night and you're set. It's a lot to handle."

Harry laughs as he gets up from the table with his now empty plate. "Well then I guess it's a good thing we will only be there for a day or two."

Andy nods his head in understanding. "That'll do it for you."

The moment I finish my food, my plate is taken from me. Harry begins cleaning up everything in the kitchen, insisting on tidying up the mess he thinks he created. It takes me a few tries until I convince him to leave the room, telling him I will clean since he did all the cooking. Andy helps me out by putting all the plates in the dishwasher, while Maz just sits at the table watching us. He's obviously a great help. 

Eventually the four of us go off to do our own things. Andy and Maz return to their respective rooms while I go to rinse off in the shower. By the time I've come out from the bathroom, Harry has successfully deflated the air mattress and neatly folded it back into the cardboard box ... something I would not have been able to do. The two of us clean up our "room" and pack up our duffle bags until we are just about ready to leave. 

Andy walks out of his room dressed in a fresh set of clothes and damp hair as if he just jumped out of the shower. He looks impressed to see everything all nice and tidy. Maz appears in the kitchen with a water bottle, walking over to the fridge to fill it up.  He, on the other hand, doesn't seem to notice a difference in the appearance of the room. 

When it becomes obvious that Harry and I are ready to get back on the road, I set my bag near the door and wait for him to gather his things as well. Maz steps over to me and gives me a hug, lightly rubbing up and down my back. 

"It was very nice to meet you!" He pulls away and flashes me a large smile. "I expect you to come back and visit soon."

I glance over at Andy, a grin upon his lips. "I will most certainly be back."

"Good. I wouldn't let you say no. It's always a good time here."

He lets go of me and walks over to Harry to say his goodbye. Andy is soon standing in front of me, picking me up in a hug and squeezing me tightly. He gently sets me back down and smiles, still not releasing his grip.

"Damn, Felicity. It was so good to see you again. I can't tell you how much I missed you."

I nod my head as I look up at him. "It was too long. That will never happen again, I promise."

A smirk crosses Andy's face before he holds up his pinky and a sudden wave of déjà vu crashes over me.

"Pinky promise?"

I can't contain the smile that forms at my lips as I hook my finger around his. "I pinky promise."

He gives me one last hug before moving to say his goodbye to Harry. All of us exchange our last few words to each other as Harry and I pick up our bags and head down the hallway. It's such a bittersweet feeling as I walk out of Andy's apartment. It sucks that I only had a short amount of time to spend with him, but I'm so happy that I could see him again and rebuild that friendship we once had. That was a nice surprise in itself. 

Harry takes my bag from my hand and packs it into the trunk of his car as I slide in to the passenger's seat. When he settles into the driver's side, he sets the key into the ignition and brings the engine to life before turning the heater on high. 

"Ready to go?" He asks as he buckles his seatbelt.

I grab the thin blanket from behind my seat and wrap it around my legs as I nod my head.

"Alright. Las Vegas, here we come."