Dancing with the Boys (Harry Styles Love Story)

Chapter 5: Prank Time

I flung off my covers and rolled over, wondering why it was so hot. I felt breeze tugging at my shirt. My eyes snapped open. Breeze?!

I was in, not my bed, a bed. And that bed was in a pavilion. In the garden. No wonder it felt hot. How did I end up in this bed, in the gard ---

Harry.

Edward.

Styles.

I cursed as loud as I could. Then later regretted it, since I didn’t know if there were any gardeners around.

I clambered off the bed and looked around. There were only two pavilions in the garden, and I’d never been in this one, so that could only mean it was the last pavilion. And the last pavilion was all the way at the end of the garden. And the garden was huge. I sighed. It was going to be a long walk.

Five minutes later, my feet burned. The little stone path had pointy stones here and there, so I switched over to the grass. If I wasn’t in such a bad mood, I’d have probably enjoyed the scenery. But all I could think of was Fed-Exing Harry to a tiny little island with only sand and no civilization.

When I began to calm down, after repeatedly telling myself that it wasn’t too bad, it began raining. And wind began blowing. This meant I ended up shivering. Sure, I liked the cold. But there’s a difference when you have a nice warm sweater you could slip on, and when you’re wet, wearing nothing but your underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

I walked on the grass below a tree, hoping the rain couldn’t reach me there. But the grass was wet and slippery, and I kept falling. I, being a dancer, performed many graceful falls on my butt, knees and back.

On the last fall, I just sat there, ready to cry. I had grass stains on the shirt, mud all over, wet and cold. I dragged away strands off my hair that were plastered to my forehead, and continued walking.

Fifteen minutes later, I flung open the door to my house.

“HARRY!”

I heard his laughter in the living room. I stomped in and stood directly in front of him. He sat there, laughing his face out. I changed my tone to a sweet, honey-like tone.

“Harry. Who wants a hug?” I held out my arms, dripping with water. He stopped laughing and paled.

“Don’t you dare.”

Harry scrambled over the couch, since I stood in front of him blocking off his escape, and ran through the house as though his pants were on fire. Which, now that I think about it, I should have probably done. “You better run!” I screeched.

Harry Styles had better watch out. Google has the best pranks ever.

I went upstairs to take a shower, meeting Liam on the way done. “You’d better change those clothes right away, you could get sick,” he said, looking concerned.

Always the responsible one.

“I am, don’t worry.” He waved me off and I hurried upstairs. After I changed, I went to Harry’s room and pressed my ear against the door. I could hear the shower running. I smiled. Perfect.

I ran into my bedroom and dragged out a huge basket, a frilly dress and one of my thongs, which I would have to throw away after, cackling like a maniac. I opened Harry’s door as silently as I could, laid the dress on the bed, then went to his closet and pulled out all of his clothes. I went through his entire room, taking away the shirts, pants, boxers and towels. I threw it in the basket. Now for the hard part.

I opened the bathroom door quietly. I took the towel and his boxers, willing myself not to drop it, and ran out. I closed the bathroom door, tossed the clothes in the basket, closed his bedroom door and dragged the basket to a guest bedroom.