Niall's Girl

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

So when my alarm went off I felt like I had only slept for a few minutes rather than two hours. My eyes were puffy and my voice was hoarse. I was a mess. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought: wow you're pathetic. So I brushed my teeth and squirted on barely-used foundation to rub over my red face. I turned on the radio and tried to sing along to force my voice back to normal but it was still croaky by the time I got to school- whether it was because of the crying or the lack of sleep, I wasn't sure. Probably a mixture of the both.

I tried not to notice the pitying looks my friends sent my way when I joined them in the common room before lessons started. They knew me well enough to know not to pester me about what was obviously wrong. I didn't talk to anyone until Ben arrived. He looked at my face and pulled me out of the common room and down the corridor, into a deserted classroom. He looked down at me to meet my bloodshot eyes before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. It took all my strength not to break down and cry on his shoulder. Instead I buried my head in his chest and sniffled a little. I was eternally grateful at that moment for our weird kiss the night before; it had set us back on track and I needed my best friend today more than ever.

"What did he do?" Ben said, finally pulling back from me with his hands on my shoulders.

"What?" I croaked out.

"I know it was him. 'Mystery boy' - he's obviously upset you. What did he do?" Benjamin looked down at me sternly.

That made me crack a small smile, he knew me so well. My face ached from the movement, it had been permanently stretched into a frown for the past twelve hours.

"He won't talk to me," I whispered, my eyebrows furrowing and my eyes filling with water again even though I thought I was cried out.

"What a dick," Ben said and I nodded my head in agreement even though I knew Niall was anything but a dick. "Want me to beat him up?"

Normally I would have laughed but I couldn't muster it. I just shook my head and leaned my forehead against his chest once again.

"We'll go to the gym tonight, yeah, then you can sleep at mine?" Ben said. "You can jog out all your anger and then put back on all the calories you lost when we watch Hot Fuzz and eat ice cream."

I did laugh then. "You're the best, Ben."

"Oh, I know. C'mon, Peeves is waiting." He said cockily. I followed him to English, joining in with his chatter about the latest scores from Manchester City's game. But at the back of my mind, Niall's words still echoed and as much as I tried to ignore them, I couldn't.

***

The next few days were painful. I had fun with Ben but my smiles always felt forced and my laughter sounded fake.

I messaged Niall every night, just to beg him to talk to me or to tell him I didn't understand why he was so mad. He never got back to me and by the time school ended for the Christmas holidays I had all but given up. Sometimes I thought I must have dreamed it all - the friendship, the messages, everything.

I was depressed, and I knew it was stupid but I didn't feel like myself. I had the urge to delete my twitter and I almost came close a few times but stopped because if Niall ever did want to get in touch with me that was the only way he could. I couldn't bear scrolling through my timeline anymore; I didn't feel like joining in with the hysteria about Niall's new haircut or the rumours that he did in fact get a tattoo. I just wanted my friend back, the friend who would send me cute goodnight messages and never failed to cheer me up.

I got a job at a cafe for the two weeks I had off school which helped keep me busy instead of moping around at home. I hung out with Benjamin and my friends a lot, too, but I knew Ben especially could tell I still wasn't myself.

I cried a little most nights, exhausted and defeated. There was no other way for me to get in touch with the Irish boy who reigned over my thoughts, and I missed him. I really really missed him.

One freezing evening as I was trudging back from work in the dark, my hood up and ice glistening on the pavement, a shop caught the corner of my eye. My feet seemed to move of their own accord as they pulled me forward. The bells on the door rattled together and dinged as I pushed it open and the man at the till sent me a friendly smile. The scent of wood filled the air and guitars lined the wall. By the counter I found a set of plectrums with jazzy little patterns on and knew immediately I needed to buy them.

When I got home, I grabbed the wrapping paper and cello tape from my parent's room before shutting my bedroom door and sitting down on the carpet. I wrapped up the box carefully, neatly, making sure it was perfect. When it was done, I put it in the back of my sock drawer, wiping the tears from my eyes as I knew I would never get a chance to give the present to Niall.

***

Christmas Day arrived and so did a new surge of sadness. The plectrums still sat unopened in my drawer. My twitter app hadn't been opened in four days, since I sent the last desperate message to Niall.

My parents and I drove the two hours down to my grandparents house in Bridlington on the coast, where my whole family was gathered - cousins, aunts, uncles, even my brother Jonny who had been staying with his girlfriend over his break from Uni.

It was lovely to see them all, my crazy cousins took my mind off all that had been going on recently as we played competitive games of poker, yelling at each other and my older cousins making obscene gestures every time they lost.

We ate a wonderful meal, I was so full afterwards I honestly thought I was going to explode. It wasn't until afterwards, when everyone was sat around the sofas chatting quietly, watching the Doctor Who special or even napping, when I realised what the aching feeling in my chest was. I had talked to all my friends, wished Sadie and Sophie and Ben a Happy Christmas. Except Niall.

I slipped out of the busy living room unnoticed, put on my coat and my grandmother's Wellies and went for a walk down the beach. It was dark and deserted, but I didn't mind. I went and sat on the cold stones, looking out into the still ocean for a while before pulling out my phone. I promised myself that this was it - no more pestering him, no more messages, no more bloody crying. If he didn't respond, I had to forget about him.

I typed out my last message. I added 'I miss you' on the end but deleted it. I then typed out 'I miss you so much', but again, it was deleted. In the end, the message simply said:

'Merry Christmas Ni. I hope you've had a nice day, I know you were excited to see your family. Please just let me know how are you are. Love, Emma xx'

And that was that. I closed the twitter app but didn't log out - somehow I still had some tiny inch of hope settled deep within me.

As I sat on the cold beach, rocks uncomfortable under my bum and the tide rushing in quickly towards me, I took one last deep breath, the cute blonde boy with the perfect smile flashing through my mind once more before I pushed him away and stood up, walking back towards real life where he had no place anymore.

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I'm sorry if this was depressing! Hve patience;)