Complex |zjm|

One.

I hate Wednesdays.

Mainly because they're smack dab in the middle of the week meaning it's been too long since the last weekend, but there's still three days till the next one. But also because on Wednesdays, my best friend makes me go out to lunch with him.

"Eat your kale Tara, or I'll shove it down your throat." I eye my plate of boiled grass with disgust and push it away from me. "I can't Harry, I honestly can not. Even if I wanted to, my body can only digest edible things."

"Since when was sperm classified as edible?"

I choke on my tea and look around to see if anyone else has heard him. Harry can be so vulgar sometimes. "You're the skank, Styles. Your mother should've named you Skanky Styles."

"Okay whatever you say. Now finish your food." I groan inappropriately loud. I was hoping my teasing would make him forget. He has some fixation with my diet and makes me eat a healthy lunch at least once a week. Preferably Wednesdays, hence why I hate them.

"I'm already skinny!"

He rolls his eyes at me. "Skinny doesn't equal healthy." The reply is almost instinctual now; we have this conversation every week. He leans back in his chair, having already finished his own lunch and rapidly taps at his phone. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's chewing on his bottom lip which I've come to learn is a habit of his when he's nervous.

"Who're you texting?" I'm a tad too invested in Harry's personal life, some would say. But I've known him for three years and we've become close enough to share some pretty personal things, so I know he wouldn't mind me asking.

"Zayn."

"Who? That sounds like an energy drink." Speaking of which, I'd much rather have that than this unsweetened tea shit Harry ordered for us.

It takes a good fifteen minutes for him to finally face me, during which I stare at the rabbit food in my plate, wishing the intensity of my glare would make it disappear. Eventually, he turns to me. "He's the guy in apartment 3B. The one I've been telling you about? He wants me to lend him my stereo system for this party he's throwing tonight." I roll my eyes in recognition. The new tenant constantly blasts music and hotboxes the whole hallway - I can barely ever get work done anymore.

"And why would that make you nervous?" Harry is a really easy-going, confident lad, one of the most sociable I know. He only ever gets nervous when he's talking to boys he lik-

Oh.

Harry has a crush on this Zayn character. No wonder he's been gushing about him for days. He even threw a hardback novel at me when I said I hoped the guy fell down the stairs. It hurt. In my defense, Zayn had opened the door to let his smoke out and, in doing so, fogged up the entire hallway.

"So Hazza... are you going to this Zayn guy's party?" I ask, my voice softer and more sympathetic after this realisation. He furrows his brows at my change of tone but looks away at his phone again. "Yeah I might. I will if you come with me?" I shake my head. "He seems pretty trashy to me."

"Because he smokes weed? Tara, you smoke weed."

"Shh!" I look around yet again to see if anyone is eavesdropping and glare back at my not so best friend. "You snitch! I smoke occasionally, there's a difference and I don't air it out for everyone to choke on."

"Oh, how humane of you!"

I blink in surprise. Sassy Harry was a rare occurrence. Kinda like smiling Kanye. "Woah, someone's being abrasive." His eyes soften and he voices an apology.

"There's the Harry I know and love!"

He smiles wide enough for his dimples to become prominent dips in his cheeks. "Whatever. But will you please help me carry the speakers to his apartment? He offered to come over and help but I don't feel comfortable letting him in my place when it's still half filled with Xander's shit." I cringe at the mention of Harry's ex, but try to hide my less than pleasant reaction when I see the pain still evident in Harry's eyes. Xander was actually a cool guy, too bad he cheated on Harry and knocked up some chick.