You're My Only Direction

Chapter Three

Louis’ POV

I sat in the reception area for what felt like, and most likely was, several hours. No one had come out to tell me that Harry was doing all right or that the tests were going well. So I just sat there in anticipation; I couldn’t stop myself from expecting the worst. Although I hadn’t said it to Harry I had my suspicions that there was something more than just migraines. I know he said he’s never had migraines before and I believe him, but I’ve noticed that he’s been having loads of headaches recently. It’s not like he’s complained about them to me, but I just see him grabbing the sides of his head and wincing a lot, which usually means pain. I doubt it’s anything too serious like brain damage; if it was brain damage he wouldn’t be so functional or have all his memory intact… but still I just have this nagging feeling that that the problem was far more severe than migraines.

My phone began to buzz in my pocket. Checking the ID I saw that it was Eleanor. I ignored the call; I’m not in the mood for chit chat right now. I mean if she paid attention to anything ever she would surely know about what happened to Harry, and she would know that I wouldn’t want to chat.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and rubbed at my eyes wearily. I instantly felt guilty for ignoring Eleanor. I have never ignored her before, that’s just not my style. Oh well, she’ll understand. This is my best mate we are talking about here. He needs my attention far more than she does. Even though he’s not here to have my attention at the moment… I think he at least deserves for me to be thinking about him.

I checked my watch, it’s 11:47 p.m. What the heck is taking so long? I have been here for literally two and a half hours, maybe more. Something must be wrong.          

I stood up and began pacing back and forth. I was biting my lip so hard that it was beginning to draw blood, but I couldn’t care less. Oh Harry, please be alright.

“Pacing and worrying like that ain’t gonna make your boyfriend better,” the old receptionist called over to me in her nasally voice. She sounded like she had a bit of a New Jersey accent and smoked daily.

“Well there is nothing else for me to do!” I replied. “And he’s not my boyfriend!”

“Oh do they call it something different where you’re from? Life partners, lovers, significant other, what?” She rasped with a teasing grin.

“Harry and I are not gay; we are best mates!” I said defensively.

“Oh sure, sure,” she wheezed. 

“I’m serious, I have a girlfriend,” I insisted.

“Alright, alright,” she said, putting her hands up in surrender. “I believe you; you’ve got yourself a girlfriend. How very interesting,” she continued sarcastically.

“You madam, are one cheeky receptionist,” I said, pointing a finger at her.

“Didn’t your mama ever tell ya it was impolite to point? Especially at a lady!” She replied, pretending that I had hurt her feelings.

“Oh my, how embarrassing; you’re a woman?  And all this time here I was thinking you were a man!” I joked.

“Oh you’re a little jokester I see,” the woman replied with a laugh that really sounded more like a wheeze.

“It is what I’m known for,” I said, shrugging my shoulders modestly but with a large smirk on my face.

“Hmm,” was all the woman said in reply.

Well she must be done with the conversation…

“Louis,” a familiar voice said behind me.