Out of the Ordinary

Chapter 2

I'd like to say that the past twenty four hours haven't passed any differently than they might normally have, and it would be partly true. I had walked back through part of the park, found the subway, and taken it all the way back to the dorms, where I showed my ID as I always do, made my way up to my room the same way I always do, and proceeded to pack up my belongings for my move to my best friend's apartment in less than forty eight hours. So, while it's true that all of that happened after everything yesterday, I wouldn't say nothing was different.

I was different, much to my own surprise. Concentration, which was never my forte if I'm being completely honest, was as far from my mind as speaking Japanese (note: I can't speak Japanese). I was only able to get half a box full last night before the temptation of my laptop grew to be too much - and I watched every One Direction video I could find, including those "Best of..." and "Harry's Funniest Moments" videos that fans (bless their hearts) put together.

And I can't say why I watched all of those videos and interviews. Did I expect the media perception of Harry Styles to sway the way I was feeling having met and spoken with him in person? I guess, but I wasn't prepared for the way all of the footage made me like him more. It seemed like the Harry I was watching in interviews was the same Harry I'd met in the coffee shop mere hours before. Obviously he was good-looking, but impossibly, his cute, funny, charming ways with the other boys, and with the interviewers made him even more attractive, to the point that I was finding him downright sexy. So much so, that I was having difficulty refraining from moaning out loud when he did certain things, like licked his lips or ran a hand through his curls.

And the opportunity to do anything about it had passed nearly twenty four hours ago when I'd left that coffee shop.

"Do you want to keep or chuck the minion stand-up?" Emily was standing next to the dresser in my dorm, holding my cardboard cut-out of a minion (yes, from Despicable Me) with two fingers, as if it was the most grotesque thing she'd ever laid eyes on.

"His name is Gary, and yes," I snatched him from her, "We're keeping him."

"Okay, but he stays in your room." She dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor and tossed her long blonde locks over one shoulder to close up a heavy box filled with miscellaneous items from my desk, "This one's done. You'll only have to finish packing up your clothes for tomorrow now."

"Alrightey." I responded, making a mental note of the dirty pile of laundry that sat in my suitcase, tossed there as haphazardly as I could manage.

Nearly twenty four hours.

I couldn't get the whole thing out of my head. And unfortunately, the process of moving was all pretty mindless work - just pack the crap up and haul it to the new place - so I stood no chance of forgetting about it. Or even just putting him out of my mind for more than two minutes at a time.

"So, I'll have Bryan come with me tomorrow with his car so we can load all your stuff up. Can we park outside the building?" Emily asked, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"We may have to drive around a few times." I paused, "And by we, I mean Bryan. I don't think it would be a good idea to leave the car parked right in front for too long a time."

Driving in New York City was always...interesting, to say the least. Moving in New York City was a challenge if there ever was one. Like doing anything in Manhattan, it took stamina, smarts, and lots of hostility. With Emily on my side, I knew I had good odds. But thinking about driving in Manhattan only made me think about how it easy it must be for One Direction to drive around Manhattan - or should I say, be driven around Manhattan... in a car that's not a (sometimes vile-smelling) yellow taxi. I mean, of all the perks of the job, being driven around seems like it would be up there on the list. At least top five.