One Year Headed In One Direction (Sequel to One Month)

Chapter 3: Have You Ever Been To London?

[HARRY’S POV]

I woke up with the mother of all hangovers. Maybe clubbing while you are depressed isn’t the best idea. I was just so tired of being the third wheel whenever I was with the lads. You would think that at least Niall would be in the same boat, but it’s Niall I’m talking about here. He makes friends with everyone, and he talks to Ammie every second of the day. Thank God Ni was rich enough to afford all those long distance phone calls, huh? Thinking of Ammie got me thinking about Carrie.

I should call her and see how she’s doing. I know she is always so busy with her schoolwork for University, but maybe we could have a real conversation for once. It was the weekend so she had to have time for a homework break, right? I walked back into the bedroom of my flat to grab my phone, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Maybe I left it by the door? Whenever I get really drunk I tend to drop all my stuff the minute I come inside.

After two hours of searching I still hadn’t found my phone. All I had was a searing headache instead. I probably lost it at some club. Great. Now I couldn’t call Carrie. Her number was saved into my phone, and I hadn’t bothered to memorize it. Louis has Nora’s number memorized. He’s always telling me how a “smart lad would have everything related to his lady inside his brain at all times.” Relationship Louis could be really damn annoying like that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he and Nora are finally together, but last week he went on for an hour about her hair. A fucking hour. I love Carrie, but I don’t need to spend hours annoying the crap out of my friends to prove it.

I hoped that she wasn’t calling me wondering why I was ignoring her. I trudged to the kitchen and grabbed some Tylenol for my headache and a glass of water. At least I could do something about the hangover. Wait. I could call the girls! They were bound to have Carrie’s number. Except how was I going to call them with no phone? Stupid Harry. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I kicked the side of my couch stubbing my toe.

“Fuck!” I choked out as my foot began to throb. [AN: Harry and Carrie are remarkably similar, huh?]

“Harry I need your help!” Zayn hollered out slamming open my front door. The noise made my head throb again, and I immediately regretted giving any of the lads my spare keys. “Why are you holding your foot?”

“Because I knocked it into the couch,” I hissed out dropping my foot and sitting on the back of the couch. “Why are you storming into my flat?”

“Like I said,” Zayn supplied. “I need your help. I tried to get Liam to help me, and he said no. He’s still mad at me for earlier.”

“What exactly did you do to get Liam mad at you?” I asked. Liam was fiercely loyal to his friends so I couldn’t imagine it being very easy to upset him.

“I kind of—sort of—broke the coffee table,” Zayn mumbled. I couldn’t help it. I just kept laughing like crazy.

“Zayn, just because you sang those lyrics doesn’t mean you actually have to do it,” I guffawed making him glare at me. I started humming his part from “Up All Night” as I chuckled.

“Shove it Harold!” he snapped frowning even deeper.

“Hey,” I shot back. “Be nice or I won’t help you at all.”

“Sorry. I just—I really need your help. I have to do this!”

“What is it?” I really hoped it wasn’t something insane. Zayn could let his emotions run a little wild sometimes.

“I need you to help me stalk Annie.” See what I mean?

[ZAYN’S POV]