Notorious

Animosity

“I can actually see the floor… Have I stepped into The Twilight Zone?” Liam looks at my sparkling hardwood in mock amazement earning a snort from me.

So, I was a little bit messy, I live alone, I’m a grown woman. I can do whatever I want. Even if that means having take-out boxes, clothes, and half empty cans of beer littered around the loft. I’m sure if mom didn’t pay for Liam to have a maid, his house would be just as dirty as mine.

I open the door a bit wider to let him into the apartment until I catch sight of the mop of curly hair standing behind him and almost slam the door in his face, “Curly can’t come in. He wasn’t invited.”

“Well, I was hanging at his when you texted me, so I couldn’t just ditch him.”

“Sorry, Liam. Harry is not allowed in my home. Ever.”

“He brought booze.”

“On second thought, the more the merrier.”

Liam rolls his eyes at my large grin before stepping into the foyer with the spawn of Satan hot on his heels. I curse him silently for always making jeans and a tee-shirt look like something off the runway before focusing on how he is shooting me an unamused look.

“Wow, wonder what changed your mind?” He scoffs before practically shoving the bottle of whiskey into my hands.

I contain my eye roll as I watch him and my brother step into my shabby apartment. Liam heads straight into the connected living room, having been here before, while Harry looks around curiously. I’m suddenly very conscious of the fact that I have a picture of Liam and I dressed as Power Rangers –posing and everything- for Halloween hanging up.

Guess which one of us chose to be the pink ranger.

“Pick up the pace, Styles, everyone is waiting.” I mumble, shoving past him to lead the way towards where the rest of the band is seated.

It’s been a whole week now since our little tryst in the club bathroom and I have barely spoken three full sentences to him. Apart from the occasional glare and dig at me, Harry has chosen to give me the cold shoulder also.

I was still beyond pissed that he was such a skeeze, but there may be a teeny tiny, itsy bitsy chance that I feel bad for comparing him to Louis.

Of course, I would never say that aloud. I’m much too prideful for my own good.

Regardless, I squeeze myself in between Zayn and Avery on my tweed couch to avoid sitting next to Harry on my mis-matched love seat. Harry obviously notices because he rolls his eyes at me before plopping down and resting his feet on my new glass coffee table.

“Get your disgusting feet off of my table, you prick.”

“I’m sure you would like to see my prick.”

“Do you always revolve conversations around your micro-penis?” By now all conversations have stopped as the gang watches us warily.

“There isn’t anything micro about me, Munchkin.”

“Please, my eyeliner is thicker than your dick.”

Harry flares his nostrils at me angrily while Avery lets out a snort and Niall laughs nervously.

“Well nothing is thicker than you.”

“Was that a fat joke? I swear to god, you stronzo [asshole] I am going to shave that stupid fucking hair of yours and-“

“Aspen!” Liam shouts at me angrily, “Che diavolo è sbagliato con voi te?” [What the hell is wrong with you?]

“Non c'è niente di sbagliato in me. Harry ha iniziato!” [Nothing is wrong with me. Harry started it!] I can feel the confused stares from our friends, but I promptly ignore them.