*Sami*

After Zayn had left, I decided to take a shower and change into some comfier clothes. There was no use in staying in jeans all day when I could lounge around in some sweatpants. Of course Dylan and Michelle had bombarded me with questions the minute I walked in, which I chose to ignore. They knew how much I hated Harry and Liam too.

Stepping out of the shower, I padded down the hallway and back into my bedroom. I tucked in my towel so it wouldn't fall down and I could roam around the room freely. Sliding open my closet door, I groaned. "Michelle!" Feet scurried up the stairs and seconds later my door was flung open. "What?" "Where's my robe?" My sister blushed and quickly ran down the hall to where her room was located. "Here. Sorry I borrowed it last week and forgot to put it back." Taking the silky material from her hands, I shooed her from my bedroom.

As I dropped the towel from my body, I quickly slipped on the satin robe. It was a gorgeous purple, with white Japanese flowers. I had bought it on our family trip to Hawaii.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, but I chose to ignore it. It was probably my mom and dad. Besides, Dylan was still downstairs so he could answer it.

"Sam!" "What?!" I snapped, ripping my door open. "Someone's at the door for you." Groaning, I padded down the staircase gripping the railing for support.

I shouldn't have doubted myself. "What Zay-."

I had to do a double take, nearly laughing at what I saw. "What do you want?" It was Harry. "To apologize." "For what?" I knew he was full of shit. His mom probably found out what happened and forced him to come over here.

"Calling you a slut...."

"Oh and did your mother send you over to say this?"

As he looked up at me, his eyes darkened. "No. I was just trying to be nice."

Laughing, I leaned against the door frame for support. "Wow, and I thought it was impossible for the Harry Styles to do anything remotely nice."

"Whatever Sam! Why don't you, why...just...ugh!"

"Sorry love, what?" I was getting a rise out of him and I was loving every second of it.

Glaring at me, he stomped off my porch. "Fuck you Samantha James!"

"And to hell with you Harry Styles!"

"My word! What crude language."

"Evening Mrs. Oakland! Lovely day isn't it?" My elderly neighbor sent me an offensive look before scurrying back inside her house. Oops.