Lost in London

Before Reilly even opened her eyes, she could hear whispers. Under normal circumstances this would be strange to her, as she lived alone in a country to which she had only recently moved and knew very few people. But on this morning, before she even opened her eyes, Reilly Quinn could feel the pounding of a headache that could only mean that she had drank entirely too much the night before.

Finally convincing her heavy eyelids to draw upward, she scanned the room that surrounded her. Nothing about the hardwood floors, the fifty-odd inch flat screen television, or the charcoal gray sectional sofa where she laid underneath a heavy blanket was remotely familiar to her. Nothing from the night, not where she'd gone or what she'd consumed, came to the front of her mind.

The room spun as she sat up slowly. Blood pounded against her temples as it rushed through her veins. Her stomach jumped and settled surprisingly quickly. She blinked a few times in an attempt to slow the dizzy room. A blonde-haired boy with bright blue eyes appeared as her surroundings finally calmed.

"G'mornin' Darlin'," he said, a cheerful smile drawn across his face.

He held a cup of tea and a plate of toast out to her. She accepted them graciously after a brief moment of hesitation and set the plate on her lap when his arm extended toward her once again. Into her open palm he dropped two oblong white pills.

"You had a few too many pints last night, I presume. Your head must be poundin'," he explained.

With a nod, Reilly slipped the painkillers into her mouth and took a sip of the tea he'd given her to wash them down. Maybe it was risky to trust that pills he had given her were what he said, but with the way her brain felt swollen to three times its normal size, she took the chance. It had also occurred to her that she was already in what could possibly be an unfavorable situation, and if he was going to drug and murder her, he would find a way to do it, whether or not she swallowed the pills.

She nibbled tentatively at the toast to see how her stomach would react. It remained calm and she took another small bite before offering a forced smile at the boy standing in front of her. Something about him seemed vaugely familiar, but she was sure she had not met him before the previous night.

"How did I get here?" she inquired. Her voice reverberated inside her head and the blood pounded behind her eyes. She brought her free hand up to her face and massaged her temples. The action brought little relief.

"Me and the lads saw you outside the pub when we were leavin'. You could hardly stand on your own. We tried askin' where you live so we could get you home, but you couldn't remember. You were so hammered you couldn't even tell us your name," he told her. "We couldn't very well leave you on your own, so we brought you here. Passed out the moment we got you into the taxi."

Reilly took a bite of her toast and a sip of tea. Vague flashes from the night before were starting to come back. She recalled talking to sister on Skype. They had never been terribly close, just as Reilly was not close with any of her family. They'd fought about something. What, she couldn't remember.

"You had a rough night, last night, Darlin'," the blonde haired boy stated factually.

Reilly nodded, but instead of responding, she told him, "I like your accent."

"Thank you very much," he said. "I like yours as well."

She smiled, a real smile this time. The simple action sent a sharp pain through her temple, but she didn't let it stop her. Something about the way he spoke made it feel like the first nice words she'd heard in her entire life.

"I'm Reilly," she said, extending her hand toward him.

"Reilly, I've always loved that name. Want to name my first daughter Reilly," he told her as he accepted her hand. "I'm Niall," he said and leaned down to kiss her hand. "Do you mind if I have a sit next to you?" he asked.

Reilly shook her head and motioned for him to have a seat. Her cheeks had tinted pink at his sweet words and gesture. She relaxed noticeably for a moment until his words swirled through her head. Me and the lads, he had said. We brought you back here. She wondered who exactly we could be. How many 'lads' were there? She didn't have to wonder long, though.

"Have you kissed her yet, Niall?" a deep, slow voice called from another room. "If you're not going to, I will," the voice qualified.

Reilly stiffened at the boy's words. Her stomach jumped as her fight or flight instinct kicked into high gear.

"Shut it," another higher voice said. "Does she have a name, Niall?"

Niall ignored the boys and turned his body toward Reilly. "Don't listen to them," he said, and moved a couple inches away from her in an attempt to show her that he meant no harm to her. "Is your tea okay?" he asked and she nodded.

"Niall!" The deep voice called again.

"Shut your gob, Harry," Niall yelled back. To Reilly, he said, "He's harmless. We all are, really. Would you like to meet the boys?" he asked.

Before she could respond, a head poked around the corner, revealing the face of a happy looking boy with light brown hair swooped across his forehead. "Ello," he said cheerfully. "Mind if we crash the party?" he asked.

Reilly, unsure if she actually had a say in the matter, glanced over at Niall and gave a slight nod. In turn, he motioned for the boys to enter the room. The face disappeared around the corner for a brief moment before reappearing attached to a body. The boy who walked in first wore turquoise pants rolled up above his ankle and a white tshirt. He was followed by a taller, unruly haired boy in black skinny jeans and a white deep v neck tshirt.

"The others are still in the back. They don't want to scare her," the shorter boy explained. "I told them we were just trying to be friendly. Hi, I'm Louis," he said and held his hand out.

Reilly reached out and shook his hand. "Reilly," she said.

"And I'm Harry," the boy with the unruly hair and slower speech declared.

"Nice to meet you," Reilly said politely.

Before either of the boys could say anything else, Niall interjected. "She's got a terrible hangover, so let's keep it down until she feels better," he said.

Harry sat on the arm of a chair while Louis took a seat on the floor and crossed his legs in front of him. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking up from the floor to the dark haired girl on the sofa.

She nodded and took a sip of the tea Niall had given her. The toast had gotten cold and tasted stale, but she took another bite of it anyway. Her stomach was returning to a calm state once again. She was still unsure of the situation, but the boys seemed nice enough.

"Is it okay if we ask you some questions. Try to get to know you a little better, Love?" Louis asked. "Nothing too personal. Just where you're from and what brings you to London. And maybe, if you want, what had you so upset last night. But if that last one is too personal, you don't have to answer. I know we've only just met and it's really none of our business."

Reilly nodded before answering. "I'm from Boston, Massachussetts," she said.

"Oh are ya?" Niall interrupted. "I've got some family out there," he said and she offered him a timid smile. "No need to be shy, Darlin'. We're just tryin' to help you out."

"Thank you," she said politely before continuing to answer Louis' questions. "I'm here for school. I go to UCL. And I really can't remember much about last night. Just that I got into a fight with my sister. But I don't remember what it was about."

Harry, who had been silent since introducing himself, spoke up. "Have you got a boyfriend?" he asked.

Without turning around, Louis reached out and took hold of Harry's leg. He pulled hard on it until the tall boy fell off his perch and to the floor, hitting his head where he'd previously been sitting. Niall covered his mouth, but it did little to smother the roar of laughter that came from way down in his gut.

The throbbing in Reilly's head had slowly been losing intensity, but it pounded full force due to the raucous around her. Her hand flew to her face and massaged aggressively at her temple. When it wasn't enough, she set down the teacup to allow her other hand to mimic the action on the opposite side of her face.

"Terribly sorry, Love," Louis apologized. "I shouldn't have done that with how you're feeling. We'll try to teach Harry some manners so it's not an issue next time."

Next time, Reilly thought to herself. Hopefully she would never be so hungover again, and there wouldn't be a next time. She offered him a pained smile, fearful of what the sound of her own voice would do.

"So your sister," Louis said, "Is she here in London, too?" he asked.

"No," Reilly said, wincing at the pain that stabbed behind her eyes when she spoke. "She's back home in Boston."

"Must have been something serious to fight about across thousands of miles," Louis observed.

Harry had chosen to remain sprawled across the hardwood floor, and piped up. "Now, how come it's okay for you to ask her things like that but I can't ask if she has a boyfriend?" he asked.

"Because, Harry, she's having a rough go of it and I'm trying to help. If you want to help, you may speak, otherwise just shut it," Louis said.

"I am trying to help!" Harry exclaimed. He shot a smile and a wink in Reilly's direction just before a couch pillow Niall had thrown hit him in the face.

Harry's less than subtle comments left a sour taste in Reilly's mouth. Her skin crawled. She took another sip of tea and closed her eyes for a moment. Practicing a breathing exercise she'd read about in a textbook, she slowly drew in a deep breath and then let it out just as slowly. After three more breaths, she felt slightly lightheaded and calm. Only then did she open her eyes again.

"You alright?" Niall asked her.

The breathing exercise seemed to work wonders. The intense pounding in her head had nearly disappeared and it felt lighter. Her stomach had settled. And as a result her face finally relaxed.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I'm alright."