Eighteen | H.S. |

n i n e t e e n

"How the fuck is this going to work?" I ask the boys as we sit on the couch discussing the band topic. "We don't have any other instruments, except the guitar."

"We can just use the guitar." Niall says. I give him the 'really?' Look and he smiles.

"Fine. But who's going to write the songs?" I question.

"Goddammit Harry. All you do is as questions." Louis jokes and I shrug.

"We have baseball though. What about that? And the song thing too. We need songs don't we?" I hear them all groan and I can tell they are getting annoyed.

"Okay. Niall will write the songs, and we can work around baseball." Zayn says. "Speaking of baseball, what's all your favorite teams?"

"Yankees." I say proudly.

"Red socks." Niall says and I glare at him.

"Ew. why?" I ask.

"There better than the Yankees."

"What about you, Louis?" I ask

"Red socks." He answers and he receives a glare from both me and Zayn. Zayn and I have like the Yankees for as long as I can remember. We both hate the Red Socks with a burning passion.

"Ewwwwww, your both stupid." Zayn says and I laugh. "Okay, they play each other next month. I'm going to get us all tickets, we'll see who wins."

"Deal, let's put some money on this." Niall beams. "I bet forty bucks Red Socks will win."

"I'll add forty too." Louis says and they both look at Zayn and I.

"I put thirty." I say and Niall looks disappointed.

"Same." Zayn said as he look inside his wallet.

"You guys are cheap motherfuckers." Louis says, "or are you scared they will lose?"

"I'm not, Fine I put fifty bucks down." I glare at the two.

"That's more like it Styles. What about Malik?" They ask and I look at Zayn and he just shrugs.

"I'll put forty." We sit in silence for a while just glaring at each other. It feels good to have a group of people who enjoy each other around.

....

Once Niall and Louis leave i look around at my apartment. There are beer cans scattered on the floor and pools of water and the bitter liquid on the wooden ground. "This place is a mess." I'm losing my voice from whatever we did last night. I start to pick up the, what seems to be endless, cans of beer. "Why is there beer like everywhere?" I ask Zayn.

"We were pouring beer on each other. Remember?" Oh, now I remember. It's just a daze but I remember. That's probably why we all smelt like beer this morning.

"That's why we smelt so bad." I say as we finish cleaning up. "I'm going to take a shower." Zayn nods and turns on the t.v.

I open the door to my room and grab a white tee and basketball shorts. (Comfortable clothes.) I think this is the worst hangover I have ever had. Then again I haven't drank in like a year or two. There's a constant throbbing pain in my left temple and I feel like my stomach is rotting.

I flick the light switch to my bathroom and step into the beige colored room. I really hate this color, so plain. I turn the knob on the hot water. It feels good on my sore muscles. I have no clue what the fuck we did yesterday. I only know one thing, I got drunk. I still can't believe I drank. I stand in the warm water and I finally washed my hair out, and the terrible smell of beer. I grab a towel and ruffle my hair. I put on my clothes and brush my teeth. I hate it when I don't brush my teeth in the morning.