YouTube ➸ Larry Stylinson

33 - Road Blocks

Louis calls Harry back as soon as he can, and when Harry answers, "Harry, you can't get in the car." Louis says. Then, he realizes something he should've moments prior. "Oh my god this vehicle is already contaminated. GET ME OUT!" Louis opens the door and runs out of the car, into the parking lot.

"I don't know about you, Louis, but these fleas are really itchy." Harry says back into the phone. He's currently sitting outside the vet, with the cat in his lap. "I think our kitty is itchy, too. She keeps twitching."

"What are we going to do? You can't go in the house. We have to get the fleas out of this car, and we have a cat." Louis rambles. "I need Pop Rocks. And coffee. And chocolate. And strawberries. And—"

"And me to get these fleas out of my hair." Harry interrupts.

"Yeah, that too."

"Well the vet gave me this specialized shampoo..." Harry suggests. 

"You're not going into the house." Louis replies. "Walk to the pet shop, only a few blocks, yeah? Then get into the infested car and drive it to an exterminator's. I'll just walk home and then drive your truck to the..." Louis pauses. "This isn't going to work." 

"I drive to an exterminator's, then walk home. You walk home now. When at home, you can help me shower with the hose." Harry suggests. "As for the kitten, it's staying with me because of the whole flea thing."

"Okay, sounds good. Wait—" Louis pauses, seeing Zayn getting into his car. "ZAYN!" He calls, and the dark haired boy looks his way. "See you later, Haz." 

"Bye Lou."

Louis proceeds to walk over to Zayn. When he reaches the taller boy, he sighs. "Long story, but I need a ride home because the car I took is infested with fleas and so is Harry and I don't think I am but maybe I am." 

"Woah, okay. I'll give you a ride. Get in." Zayn smiles, but his eyes show confusion. "And if I somehow get fleas, you're getting punched." he teases. 

"I don't itch, man. I don't think I have them."

"Good."

✖ ✖ ✖

On Harry's walk, he gets many strange looks. For one, because he keeps scratching the top of his head. For two, he's carrying a cat down the street. They probably think he's a hobo. Which, he might as well be right now, seeing as he's not allowed into his own house. 

Harry pictures the little bugs, and them hopping around in his hair. Also, biting him. Then, he thinks of himself as a house for all these bugs. It gives him temporary closure, until he starts itching again. Then, he wishes they would find a new home or... dare he say... die.

When he finally arrives at the car, he realizes that Louis has the fucking keys. Thinking that Louis' walking, Harry doesn't want him to have to walk back. So, Harry must get the spare, which is connected to the underside of the car by wire. He shimmies under the car—the cat tucked safely under his arm so she won't run away—and spots the wire-wrapped key. With not-so-nimble fingers, Harry untwists the key. It takes about two minutes, before Harry is successfully in the flea inhabited car. He goes into the back seat and puts the cat in the kennel Louis had bought and left in the car, and then he drives to the nearest exterminator. 

Unluckily, it's twenty miles away. Meaning, Harry will have to walk approximately twenty-two miles home, which he is not going to do. Add four more miles and that's a marathon.

Sighing in frustration, Harry pulls into the parking lot of the exterminator. He itches his neck before going into the main room of the building. 

"Hello," he says to the man that is probably the owner. "I have a slight issue that I would love to be taken care of immediately." 

"And that's?" The man replies, in a gruff voice. He tilts his head slightly to the side when he sees Harry itch himself multiple times. "You got fleas?" He pauses. "'Cause we don't treat people here. We kinda just go t' houses or summat."

"I know—I know that. I need you to work on my car." Harry says in response. "And yes, it's fleas."

"Well, okay. I charge by the hour." He stands up, and Harry leads him to the car. "This'll probably take..." the man inspects the car for a few moments. "two hours."

"Okay. I can't really stick around." Harry replies.

"'S fine. Come back tomorrow and pick it up."

"Alright." Harry replies, taking out his phone, the cat out of the car, and walking away. What he's going to do, he doesn't quite know yet. He's not walking twenty-plus miles, that's what he knows. 

Harry looks to his left and right, and all of the sudden he sees the shop next to the exterminator's. A motorcycle shop. The perfect solution, right? 

Harry's ridden a motorcycle before, so if he could just rent one... he could get home. 

He walks over and is shocked to see the owner of she shop is a girl with a suit-coat on. But, he doesn't judge. Suit-coat lady, you ride that motorcycle. 

"Hello, do you rent?"

"Of course." she replies. "It's £500 for one day."

"£500?" Harry wonders aloud. 

"Did I stutter?" 

"No, ma'am. Um, here." Harry hands her his debit card. He doesn't exactly carry £500 on him, normally. 

"Thank you. Do you know which motorcycle you will be renting? And, I suppose, only for one day?"

"Yes, only one day. I'll return it tomorrow. As for which one, I have no clue. Which ones do you rent out?"

"Our rent-able selection is right there." she points to a wall lined with various styles of cycles. 

Harry picks the one that looks most like the old one he had. He has to pay extra for a helmet, and then he's set to go. One problem, the cat. 

"Is this safe for pet travel?" Harry asks the woman.

"Not that I know of." 

"Great." Harry sighs; yet another road block. Not to mention how Harry will explain to this woman that her helmet will most probably have fleas when it's returned. 

"But, if you go slow... perhaps the cat of yours could go in this compartment.." She suggests, walking up the the motorcycle and opening a back panel. "Most certainly not the safest thing, but the kennel will fit here."

"Oh my god, this is crazy." Harry sighs. "If I give you extra money, will you keep the cat with you until tomorrow? All it needs to be is fed, and given a place to, you know, use the bathroom."

The lady raises an eyebrow, before lowing it. "I could do that, I suppose. I do have three cats already." She shrugs. 

"Yes, thank you." Harry smiles, strapping the helmet on his head. He hands the cat to the woman, being sure not to tell her about the fleas. Before she can find out, Harry's out the door and mounted on the motorcycle. 

And, who knew that riding a motorcycle while itching all over your body would be a far-from-pleasant experience?

[edited]