Secrets

“Wow,” Louis comments as we walk back into the front. “You get it done quickly, Hazza.”

I glare at him. “Oh, shut up.”

Molly comes by and squeezes my hand reassuringly. When I look over at her, she gives me a small smile, letting me know that the jokes don't bother her, which is what I'd been afraid of.

“So where are we going first?” Liam questions as he sits down at the table. I join him, Molly sliding in the other side.

“Um…” Zayn trails off, “I think our first show’s in New York City.”

Louis grins. “I love New York City. The crowds there are so loud.”

“The crowds everywhere are loud,” Niall laughs.

“True…” Louis allows, “but it just seems that New York’s louder.”

“That might be because the stadium is bigger than lots of other places,” I pipe up.

“Or maybe because your ears are more sensitive in New York,” Liam seconds.

“Maybe you’re confusing the noise from the streets with the noise inside the stadium?” Zayn suggests.

Louis groans. “No. New York just fucking loves us. There.”

We all chuckle.

After a second of silence, Niall whines, “I’m hungry.”

“You just ate cake, you pig,” I joke.

“So? Cake’s not really all that filling.”

Liam sighs and bumps into my side, a signal that I am supposed to get up. I do so, grumbling, to let him search through the fridge that was pre-stocked with stuff.

“Hey, there’s some pizza in here,” he announces, pulling out a bag filled with slices of cold pizza. “Want me to warm it up?”

“I’ll do it,” I butt in, getting to my feet. “When you heat it up, it doesn’t get crispy enough.”

“You burn it!” Liam protests. “I keep it so it’s, you know, edible.”

“I don’t burn it! You just don’t like your pizza crispy.”

“He’s got a point, Liam,” Niall agrees.

“How about this,” Zayn interferes, always the mediator, “Harry, you can heat up the pizza for the rest of us. Liam, you can take your slices out early, before it gets crispy.”

Liam and I exchange looks before nodding. “That seems fair enough,” Liam allowed.

“Wait, so is everyone eating?” Niall questions, raising an eyebrow. “Because I just got shit for being hungry after eating cake…so…”

“We’re hypocrites,” Louis informs him simply. “Get over it.”

“You guys are crazy,” Molly laughs, her smile lighting up her face.

“Thank you, love,” I grin. “Now, Zayn, get out of my way so I can put the pizza in the oven.”

Zayn looks behind him to confirm that he was standing in front of the oven before walking over and sliding into the seat next to Molly. They start chatting amicably while I put the slices of pizza right on the metal rack inside.

“Wait, is that safe?” Niall butts in, watching over my shoulder.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I ask, my voice not much louder than a grumble.

“Normally, people use pans,” Louis informs me as if he's telling me the meaning of life.

I shoot him a look. “We are on a tour bus on our way to New York City from Boston,” I remind him. “Why the hell do you think we’d have pans in here?”

“We might not have pans,” Liam expresses, going through a couple of cupboards, “but we do have this.”

He pulls out a roll of Reynolds Wrap, the aluminum foil, and throws it at me. I catch it, fumbling it a little bit, before staring at it. “Is this okay to use in an oven?” I ask.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Liam wonders.

“Doesn’t it spark or something? Like a little lightning storm inside the oven?”

Louis laughs loudly at me. “Oh, Harry, our young and naïve friend.” I shoot him a glare. “That’s when you put it in the microwave.”

“Oh, alright,” I respond coolly, making a point of not showing how dumb I felt. Once the pizza is arranged on the aluminum foil, I close the front of the oven and pull myself onto the counter next to it.

“Now I kind of want to put some aluminum foil in the microwave…” Niall trails off sheepishly. “Just to see what it would look like.”

“If you break our microwave the first day of this tour, I’m going to kill you,” I tell him frankly.

“Yeah,” Molly breaks in, “can you imagine not being able to have any popcorn for the entire tour?”

Liam winces. “That would suck.”

“Technically,” Louis says thoughtfully, “you can make popcorn over the stove.”

“Well, I can’t,” I tell him. “I burn it black. And burnt popcorn smokes like mad.”

“Maybe setting the bus on fire wouldn’t be the best idea,” Zayn chuckles.

“You think?” I reply sarcastically.

“So the moral of the story is,” Liam sing-songs before turning to Niall, “no aluminum foil in the microwave.”

“Damn.” He snaps his fingers, grinning. “Maybe some carrots, then?”

“Don’t carrots set on fire, too?” I wonder.

Molly shakes her head, not able to suppress the smile on her face completely. “That’s it. I’m not letting any of you near the microwave.”

“Smart thinking.” She looks over at me when I speak, so I give her a little cheeky grin.

“Move, Harry,” Liam speaks suddenly, moving toward me. “I’m taking out my slices now.”

I put my hands up in surrender and scoot over on the counter. “Yes, Master.”