Lights (Niall Horan)

twenty

Anna Holden

Why was I so worried in the first place? His mom and brother are very bright and lovely.

Or so I think.

"Nice to meet you, Anna." Greg nods in my direction, then lowers his voice. "Which one are you dating, really? If you were dating Niall, I bet his smile would be even brighter than it already is."

"Greg!" Denise playfully smacks him. "You just met the poor girl."

"Who says I'm dating any of them?" I reply slowly. Great, this about to get awkward.

"Well, Niall says they've all fallen head over heels for you..." He smirks.

"What?" I yelp. That's impossible.

"Oops, I might not have been allowed to tell you that..." Greg laughs. I did too, just considering the thought.

It's just ridiculous.

My phone starts ringing loudly, interrupting the awkward silence.

Marimba.

Harry.

I set that as his special ringtone, just to annoy him. I began smiling at the memory.

But still. I wonder what he needs. It must be important.

He'd never call me if it wasn't important.

"Sorry, but I should take this." I tell Greg and Denise.

They laugh. "No worries. But... What about Harry?"

I blushed. "No, no, no!"

Walking around the house, I answer my phone, and not looking where I was going, I run into a solid figure instead of the cool grass.

Niall?

I squint at him, silently asking him why he's crouched down on all fours on the ground, but I have a feeling I really don't want to know.

"Lost something," he mouths, dashing off towards the house.

Well, I can't lie and say that wasn't peculiar, but I can forget about it for the time being.

"Hey, Harry, what's up?"

"Err... What color of towel would you like?"

"You'd really call me for something as simple as a towel?" I roll my eyes.

"Well... Yeah." That cheeky boy.

"Then... Blue? I don't know..." I don't know why I'm so indecisive about colors. It's a just a color.

It's not like someone would use it against me or anything.

Hanging up with Harry, I go back inside the house and discovered the rest waiting for me. Oops.

Since it's dinnertime, we go out to a fancy restaurant, picking up Niall's father along the way. Maura and Bobby are divorced, but they can still tolerate one another without fighting.

Unlike my parents.

"Your dress is so gorgeous, Anna," Denise tells me, in awe as we are seated into a large booth.

"Thanks," I grin at Niall. "Niall helped me pick it out."

"Did he?" Bobby smirks at his youngest son. "Fine taste, son."

All throughout dinner, Denise and I are told childhood stories about Niall and Greg. Denise is even married to a Horan, but you'd be surprised about what she doesn't know yet about their 'family history.'