Status Single (One Direction)

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Chapter Eight

Charlotte's POV

My eyes bulged at the guy in front of me. He was just like me...but a lad.

We all seemed to snap out of our shock at the same time. I was expecting Paris or Rae to make an outburst, but they just looked annoyed like the rest of us. We all slumped in disappointment, and forked over the cash to Callie, who was grinning. One Direction was doing the same thing, giving their money to Niall.

"Luck of the Irish," Callie shrugged, and Niall laughed.

"You were making bets too?" Zayn questioned.

"Obviously," Natalie snapped, before looking to Rob, "Why do they look like us?"

"Simon knows what he's doing," he said vaguely, and Natalie huffed.

"I'm not sharing a bus with Paris Stykes," Louis stated, and Paris literally growled at him. Ya, growling is an odd habit of hers that she does when she's pissed. It looks quite cute, and not at all threatening.

"Louis, that's mean," Liam scolded, before taking a step towards me with his hand outstretched, "I'm Liam, it's nice to meet you."

I took his hand hesitantly, "Charlotte," I replied wearily.

Rae sighed, "This should be an interesting four months."

***

"It's not fair," Callie complained as she stuffed a pile of random shirts into her suitcase. I sighed, allowing the Irish girl to continue her rant.

"Why does Niall have to be one of them?" she continued, "He seemed like such a sweet guy when we talked at the awards, and then he stands by his stupid friend with that stupid speech and he's just so fucking stupid!"

"Language," I said dryly, knowing it wouldn't make much of a difference.

"And now we have to go on fucking tour with them!" she raged on, "I mean, what if Niall is there?"

"Niall is going to be there, sweetheart," I reminded her.

"I don't know what to do around him anymore!" she cried, "Am I nice? Am I mean? Do I forgive him? Do I not? Ugh! Why did I have to be right?"

"If it makes you feel better, I can have my £20 back," I offered, and Callie just rolled her eyes.

"Ha, ha," she said sarcastically as she tucked her iPad between a layer of clothes. She stared at her bag for a minute, before taking the iPad out and zipping it up.

"Have you written any more songs?" I asked, motioning to her iPad.

Callie shrugged, "They're not that good."

"What does Natalie think?"

"She's just being a good friend."

I sighed. Natalie was the only one allowed to hear her play, but only because she lived with Callie. It's kind of hard to play the grand piano silently. Natalie has told us how amazing she is countless times, but Callie will never believe it.

"Can you play me a bit?" I begged. Callie got up off her bed and slowly drifted to the big, black grand piano. It had been a gift that Rae, Paris, Natalie, and I had pitched in to get her for her birthday last year.

"I don't know..." she said hesitantly.

"Please, Callie?"

Just before she could reply, there was a knock at the door, and Callie was gone in a flash. I let out a frustrated sigh, but followed her to the door.

Rae and Paris strolled in, with Rae carrying a box of pizza, and Paris holding up two movies.

"It's Thursday!" Rae reminded us, "Girls' night!"

I smiled, thankful for the tradition. When we were on vacation, Thursdays were always girls' night. Even if we were working, Thursdays always belong to us.

"We brought a chick flick, and a chick flick," Paris stated, "Which will it be?"

"That one looks dumb," I said, pointing at the first movie.

"It has Zac Efron in it."

"Ooh! Gimme!"

Paris put in "Charlie St. Cloud" and I sat down next to her on the floor. Rae, Natalie, and Callie sat on the couch behind us. We all grabbed a slice of pizza each, and any lady-like qualities we might have possessed were out the window.

"Are you guys excited about the tour starting tomorrow?" Rae asked, her mouth full of pepperoni pizza.

"Yes and no," Paris shrugged, whiping her mouth on her jacket sleeve, "I love to perform, but One Direction isn't very high on my friendship list."

"Agreed," I stated, taking another bite of my hawaiian section of the pizza. Gotta love personalized pizzas.

"Can we not talk about it?" Callie asked, and we nodded.

"I got a call from my mum today," Paris said softly, and the room went silent.

"How did that go?" Rae asked.

"I don't know. I didn't answer," Paris admitted, "But she left me a message."

I raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"She wants to talk."

"Are you going to?"

"Of course not. She thinks she can just make things better with one phone call? Not going to happen."

I wrapped my arms around Paris, and she let out a sigh.

"It's okay. I'm alright," she said, "I just hope the tour can get my mind off of it."

"Whether it's good or bad, I'm sure it can do just that," I whispered, and Paris gave me a small smile.

"I hope so."