Direction Dreamer

Chapter Thirty Three

Author's Note: AHH, only two chapters left after this one! I'm kind of upset, but REALLY excited for my spin off which WILL be published right after I write this! PLEASE WAIT to check out the prologue of it until you've finished reading this, IT WON'T FULLY MAKE SENSE OTHERWISE! Okay? OKAY. Anyways, please comment, vote, fan! Once you're finished go read the spin off, it's about NIALL! :D Okay, enjoy this chapter! Also, please enjoy my sketch of Harry by clicking this link, okay? Okay :) http://i1163.photobucket.com/albums/q541/AnchorsAway28/HarryStylesSketch.jpg

***********************************************************************************************************

After a restful six and a half hour sleep, another eight hours with all of the guys minus Zayn being awake sounds almost torturous. I love the band to pieces, don’t get me wrong. However, they were all VERY loud and VERY bored, which meant that they’d be doing everything in their power to not be bored. This only meant one thing, of course. Video games, screaming, wrestling, eating, playing guitar, screaming, acting childish. Males sure are something. It began with video games, Liam and Lou insisted on playing Mario Kart on the ancient Nintendo 64 that I’d insisted on buying, which wouldn’t have been an issue, except the fact that Louis thought that he was on the top, winning, when really Liam was and Louis was on the bottom, losing. They were having an argument about it, Lou insisted that Liam had switched controllers with him. I still question myself as to why I wanted that thing. Niall was writing songs and playing on the guitar, and when I told Harry that I was irritated and cranky and hungry, he wrestled Niall to the ground to get him to stop playing, which caused a huge blow up until Zayn woke up and joined in. Of course, they were only kidding around, but the three of them rolling around on the floor giving one another noogies and looking completely idiotic sent me into a fit of laughter, and I took a photo with Instagram and uploaded it to Twitter. This was a keeper, for sure.  We stopped by an Outback Steakhouse for lunch as we were going through Roanoke, Virginia, and after that we were only seven hours from Smyrna, though it felt more like seven days than hours. The anticipation was killing me.

Two hours from our destination I ended up having sharp, jabbing pains in my abdomen – a false early labor scare that made Harry nearly have a heart attack, there was NO way that I was about to deliver the baby on this bus! My water didn’t break, so I stayed calm, cool and collected. I assumed it was only the baby kicking. Harry assumed that the baby was coming, and “manned the stations” so to speak, with hot water, towels, blankets, and repetitive breathing that made it seem like HE was going into labor. It almost frightened me to think what actual labor was going to be like, though the boys all got a kick out of it. Rolling hills and deep valleys greeted us in Tennessee as we drove through, and it was all sort of breathtaking. Being a girl who came from more of a city life, this was a huge adaptation. The country was painted to be gazed at for hours, taking everything in and holding it there, not wanting to release it. Even Harry got lost in the vast blue skies and the glistening blue lakes. When we finally arrived in Smyrna, it was night time, about 10 PM, so we decided that going for a later dinner would be perfect. We stopped by a local diner, stuffed our faces with no disruptions from fans, and returned to our hotel room for the night to get a restful sleep for tomorrow’s search for my father. 

“It’s so hot!” Niall complained as we walked through the town of Smyrna. It was fairly quaint, and nobody was really bothering us, surprisingly. All of the guys were wearing shorts, even Niall, who was being laughed at by the other guys about having “chicken legs.” I thought his legs were just fine though. I’d done some shopping back in New York, and pregnant or not my legs hadn’t changed one bit and I was going to dress as comfortable as possible.  I wore a pair of denim shorts paired with a sleeveless scoop neck pleated tank top, which was striped – so naturally Lou insisted on wearing matching red and white stripes. “Like brother, like sister!” he’d smirked when he walked out of the bathroom, changed this morning. Harry sported the usual, a beanie and a white T-Shirt and shorts. Niall wore shorts and a white tank top, Zayn wore shorts and a Guns N’ Roses tee, and Liam was sporting a Navy polo and shorts. All of us more or less blended into the crowd… except maybe me. It’s a bit hard when your stomach is protruding so much though, so I don’t think anybody would look twice anyhow. We paired our “normal” disguises with sunglasses and casual conversation, so we were pretty camouflaged. “Deal with it Nialler!” Harry snapped at him, anxious as I was that we were going to find what we were looking for here. He knew how stressful this had been for me for the past couple of weeks. I was nervous and worried and this much stress paired with the pregnancy wasn’t healthy for me, which concerned him. We turned the corner by a tiny bakery, stopped in to get donuts, then walked down the street before crossing the road and turning another corner to find a string of houses. We were looking for #881, and were only at #824. As we walked down the road, my anxiety was sky high, and I didn’t know what I would possibly say if it was my father. As we approached the house, I felt a knot form in my stomach. What was I going to say to this stranger?