Nacho Average One Direction Story

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LIZZ MAYBERRY POV

     "What am I supposed to do here?" I asked Harry as he gathered his things for reversals. They had three a day. Morning, afternoon, and night.

     "What do you usually do when I leave?" He asked as he took another sip of his tea.

     "Wait for you to come back," I quoted with a cheesy smile.

     "Yeah, okay, Patrick."

     "I don't know, Harry. I can count on one hand the amount of hours we haven't been together since June fifth and it's just past mid July. I can't tell if that's awesome or pathetic. I think I'm forming a Harry-dependency."

     "You love me."

     "Hate."

     "Face it. Your heart hearts me."

     "I H-nine you."

     "That isn't a very nice thing to say to someone you love."

     "H-ten."

     "Group hug!"

     "We are the only two people here."

     "Bring it in, Betsy."

     "Dear God, please leave. I'm inviting you to leave, now."

     "It's my apartment. You can't tell me to leave," he said, getting in my face.

     "Get out of here or you'll be late!" I said as I palmed his face and pushed him away.

     "Fine, I'm leaving. Don't burn my house down."

     "No promises!" I called as he shut the door.

     Actually, though. What to do. This is pathetic. I didn't realize I was literally so enthralled and obsessed with that boy. For Pete's sake he was only going to be gone for an hour and a half! This is absolutely pathetic. I am a pathetic person leading a pathetically pathetic life centered around my pathetic dependency on my anything-but-pathetic best friend.

      After fifteen minutes of sitting on the floor and wallowing in self-pity, I walked back into Harry's room and got my Psych season DVDs. I had all of them on discs. I put in my favorite episode's disc and settled in for a marathon. Harry's bed was so comfortable, but not quite as fantastic as my Wisconsin bed.

     The ring of the phone surprised me but I dove for it on the bedside table because I has been 45 minutes and I'm desperate for human contact. I paused Psych as I answered the phone and greeted whomever was on the other line.

     "Hello, Lizz, this is Simon Cowell."

     "How are you?"

     "I'm fine. And yourself?"

     "I'm swell." There was a long pause. As I waited for him to say something. He didn't. "If you're calling for Harry, he left about forty-five minutes ago, so he should be there in twenty."

     "Thank you."

     "Well, bye," I said because I'm bad at face-to-face conversations already and phone ones were even worse.

     "Wait!"

     "Yes?"

     "What did you say your major in university was?"

     "What?" I asked, confused at the subject change.

     "What is your major?"

     "A double major. Editing and journalism with some communication in there too."