Meeting 1D In Your PJs Is Not Fun

So Many...Shirts

After three and a half trade-offs, like two dozen flights of stairs, and Harry stubbing his toe, I was finally dropped onto the guest bed. Liam straightened up and moved to a door opposite the queen size bed. "This is the bathroom. Inside is a large shower, mirror, etc..." He walked over to another door and opened it. "Here's the walk in closet. Louis's girlfriend can take you shopping for clothes."

I frowned. "How long am I going to be here?"

"As long as it takes to get you home." He rubbed his neck and sighed.

"Oh. Um, are there bandages in the bathroom?" I gestured to my drying wounds.

"Oh! You're hurt? Why didn't you say anything?" Liam rushed to my side and looked at my legs. Harry popped his head in at Liam's raised voice and saw him examining my legs. His jaw dropped and he called Zayn, Niall, and Louis in before rushing in.

"It's only a scratch!" I raised my hands in defense, knowing it was the opposite.

"Is this what you American's call 'LITTLE'?!" Before I could protest, Niall and Zayn had gone to get medicine and bandages. I kept slapping Liam and Louis's too-close hands and glaring at them.

Only then could I be completely happy that I had taken some much time shaving my legs before going to bed.

As Harry took out the last piece of glass, Niall and Zayn came out of the bathroom, arms filled with bandages and meds. With every one of the boys fussing over my legs, I couldn't take it anymore.

"STOP!"

Every hand froze and every head looked up at my burning face. "I am pretty sure I can clean my own wounds, so all of you can just leave."

I know it was harsh, but I couldn't take all of it. Protests began, and I raised a finger. Mouths shut; they all got up and sulked out of the room. Before closing the door, Louis opened his mouth. I pointed out and he left.

I flopped back on the covers and sighed. Looking around, I took in everything in the room. Across from the right side of the bed, the wall was covered in large cubbies, filled with various things. I spied a music system and stumbled over to it. After scrolling through albums, I smirked when I saw a particular one. Take Me Home by One Direction. Might as well.

After clicking on it, I cranked the volume and went back to cleaning and bandaging my calves.

I tested my legs and found that they held me. So, I walked over to the closest and found multiple long, plaid button-downs. After changing out of my bloody Harry Potter shirt and Niall's boxer's, I chose a blue and black shirt. I stood in front of the full length and turned, making sure it covered my bruised butt. A half foot hung below my bottom.

Finally tired, I changed the music to a slow mix and collapsed into the fluffy bed. Within minutes, I fell asleep.

Who dares to wake me up from my well needed sleep?!

Careless footsteps pounded against the carpet floor of my bedroom. I decided to be nice and groan and roll over to announce my presence. The footsteps became louder still. I couldn't take it. I ripped off the tangled sheets and stood up on my knees to confront my offender.

A scene flashed through my mind: talking to Harry or Zayn or someone with raccoon eyes. Panic poured energy into my sore limbs and rushed me to the bathroom and quickly found some new make-up remover. A few minutes later, my face was make-up free and perfectly tan.

That's what spending hours in the sun does to your face! I added a little bit of concealer and eye liner to bring out my stormy gray eyes. Satisfied with my quick work, I left the bathroom and followed the source of the footsteps and light: into the closet. What met my eyes made me gasp.

Clothes.

Racks and racks of newly purchased clothes. Jeans, shorts, yoga pants, blouses, jackets, sweatshirts, and best of all...shirts. Star Wars shirts, Harry Potter shirts, Lord of the Rings shirts, and so much more!

I walked in a little further and almost bumped into a girl my age, carrying at least a dozen different outfits.

"Oh! You're up! Good, I need you to try on these outfits. I do hope I got the right sizes. You look like a size zero, what with your overall body size," I glanced down at my skinny, short body and suddenly hated my height. "Are you a sporty girl or a fancy girl? I, myself, am a sort of mix. Do you like neon colors? I think they would really bring out your tan. I wish I had a tan like that. Do you..." She walked right by me and kept on rambling on about colors and sports. I turned around and dutifully followed her into my room and flopped onto my bed. The girl kept talking about the most random things and held shirts and pants up to me.

"Louis told me about your sudden appearance last night." I looked up and watched the girl put down the last outfit and sit next to me on the bed. Her silence was all but begging me to tell my tale.

As good as any Irish storyteller, I told her of my morning and how I met One Direction. The girl hung on my every animated word and gasped at the right moments. I began to like her and understood why Louis was dating her. I ended my tale with an exaggerated description of a beautiful girl who was gliding through the walk in closet. She added onto the description and we laughed like old friends.

When we stopped giggling hysterically, I stood up and excused myself to freshen up. She waved me on.

"Oh! I don't even know your name!" I poked my head out of the bathroom.

She smiled. "Eleanor. Eleanor Calder."

When I stepped into the hot shower, I remembered the sound of my laugh. It sounded like a girl who hadn't lost her One to her best friend. Who hadn't been backstabbed and hadn't cried every night for weeks. I smiled and thought What if this isn't so bad after all?