One Journey, the Final

Chapter 3:

I woke up the next morning, tangled in my blankets. I tried rolling around in bed to loosen the tightening sheets, but I only ended up rolling onto the hard wood floors with a solid 'thud'.  And yet I still had a smile on my face. All the memories of yesterday replayed through my mind. Yes. I did have an amazing time with Harry. In the background I could hear my phone sending off a chorus of notifications, but I really didn't want to tackle that right now. It would just end up in, 'delete, delete, delete.' So instead I decided to unravel myself from the human burrito blanket mess and brew up something warm to drink. Goosebumps prickled up my legs as I walked barefoot across the floor. I threw the blankets back on the bed, I could make it later. It was a Saturday, and I intended to enjoy my day off.

I sat cuddled up in a blanket on my couch, sipping my vanilla bean coffee while reading a Home Improvement magazine. The new color for the spring season was creamy orange, a bit too Easter-y for me, but I'm sure Harry would've loved the color. When I finished the article I was reading I flipped the TV on and instantly changed the channel to E! tv. The only thing on was "Keeping Up with the Kardashians." I groaned and beat my head against a pillow. I don't think they're awful people or anything, it's just that I don't see what's so entertaining about watching a family of divas fight over who's butt is bigger. With a headache quickly forming I decided it was time to go through my notifications. I sluggishly reached over to grab my iPhone 5, vibrating like there was no tomorrow. When I turned it over to the screen and unlocked it, I read that I had over 105 notifications on Facebook and Twitter! I almost dropped my coffee and the floor, shocked. I caught it just in time. In a matter of seconds, my phone started ringing in my hands. The caller ID read, Lyla Noland, my best friend.

              "Hello?" I asked, freaked out by the whole situation settling in my hands.

              "Bell! Have you been on Twitter recently?" Her perky voice cried through the phone. I could just picture her hurriedly twirling her fingers through her long silky golden blonde hair, and her big blue eyes becoming wider with excitement.

              "I was just about to go on. Why?" I asked. I could hear her let out a gasp, followed by a lie of, "No reason." She's a terrible liar. I tapped my finger on the app, and it quickly loaded, and I echoed Lyla in the same gasp. This had to be a lie. But it was too real.

My name was on the trending list.

             "Wha-!" I started to say.

             "Did you see it?!" Lyla yelled through the phone.

             "Mm-hmm." I said, nodding my head. I scrolled down the list of comments. Why was I on the trending list? I felt a little bit like Oprah Winfrey. It's one of those moments you like to hold onto. It's not every day you feel the Oprah affect. Most of them went along the lines of, "Saw @Harry_Styles last night at Coney Island w/ @AnnabelPriceisRight." Don't judge my username. Others said, "Caught a glimpse of my future hubbs, @Harry_Styles. Looking hot as usual;)" "Don't know who that girls was with @Harry_Styles last night, but I loved her boots!" And a select few were a bit rude. "Don't know why @Harry_Styles would be hanging with that tramp last night! Uglier than a load of poo." "Two words, @AnnabelPriceisRight, MAKE-UP. And use it! Looking a little pasty there you @#%^" Colorful language. Nice. I instantly exited out of the Twitter app, not daring to open Facebook out of fear of being trampled with more notifications and hurtful comments. Tears stung in my eyes. I have feelings too, in case those Twitter users forgot.

           "Who was that guy you went out on a date with?" Lyla asked nervously.

           "Harry Styles," I casually responded. The realization how this one date had changed my life for now settling in. My heart dropped to my stomach, and a nervous smile wasn't going to cover this up. The coffee was now cold, and my stomach was churning. I felt sick, and I quickly lept off the couch to throw myself against the toilet down the hall. I blasted into the bathroom, and clutched my belly as I leaned against it's porcelain touch. The vile taste left my mouth, as did my breakfast, and the remnants of last night's eating contest. My head was light, and I felt faint. I had taken my phone with me to the bathroom, and I could hear Lyla crying through the phone,