Keep Me From Falling Apart [Niall Horan]

Chapter Twenty Four

My phone buzzing in my pocket woke me.

U really need to call me

I had completely forgotten about Whitey’s text the night before. I hit call as I slid off the bed. Emma wasn’t in hers. I glanced at the clock. 12:15PM. No wonder she was gone.

“Hello?” Whitney answered in her usual cheery voice.

I stumbled to the bathroom, still somewhat asleep.

“What’s this emergancy you need me to call you for?” I asked, hinting at sarcasm.

I pulled my tangled hair out of my ponytail, watching myself in the mirror. Whitney gave one of her famous dramatic pauses before speaking.

“It’s your mom,” she finally said, serious like a business woman.

I rolled my eyes at my reflection. I no longer cared for the woman that gave birth to me.

“Is she dead?” I asked in montone.

“No, but—” she started.

I interrupted.

“I couldn’t care less what’s she’s doing, then,” I stated, putting the phone on speaker.

“Really? You sure about that?” She asked as I set the phone down on the counter.

“Yup,” I answered turning on the faucet.

Whitney was silent on the other end for a few beats. The faucet’s running water filling the silence. I leaned over the sink, splashing some water on my face. Whitney’s voice came out garbled because how close I was to the faucet. I understood part of the sentence though.

“What?” I asked, praying I’d heard wrong.

“Mimi… she knows where you are,” Whitney repeated, her sentence shorter than one I’d heard before, but giving the whole story.

I flicked the water off, my palms resting on the cream colored counter. My mother knows where I am. Didn’t escape for long did I? God. I knew those pictures from the airport would give me away. I should’ve never let Niall take me to the hospital that morning, then he wouldn’t have helped me to our plane to catch it in time. Blame Niall. Of course. Typical. 

I scoffed to myself. None of this was Niall’s fault and I knew it. It’s all my fault. 

I tried killing myself, I made my mom put me in a mental home, I escaped the place, I came back to the friggin program. The program. Of course my mom would’ve known I came back. Gosh, I’m stupid. I should’ve just stayed in London, she would’ve never found me then. Why did I even come back? I really had no desire to take pictures anymore, most of the girls here hate me, Nicole’s got her own problems, none of the boys talk to me, especially Niall.

“Mimi?” Whitney’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Where? Where is she meeting me at?” I asked, remembering that part from a minute ago.

“I think she said Toronto…” she replied quietly.

“Toronto..” I repeated to myself.

Five days. Why the heck is she waiting five days? She met me in New York before, why couldn’t she do it now? Why was she waiting so long? My mom isn’t to put something off longer than it needs. She does thing when they need to be done, not days after. 

She’s obviously been looking for me, not very hard, but she has. So now she knows where I am.. but she’s not coming right away.

“Why is she waiting so long?” I asked Whitney.