More Than What Meets The Eye (One Direction - Niall)

Chapter Thirty

"Clara."

"Clara."

"Clara."

"Clara."

I look out the window, pretending not to hear his hushed calls.

"Clara," he whispers for the hundredth time.

An annoyed sound escapes my lips as I look past Anna at Irish. "Why are you whispering, Irish? We're in a car! Every one can hear you!" Plus, Anna's sitting right between us you idiot, she can easily hear what ever you're saying to me, I add silently.

Up front, Harry snorts, and the driver glances in his rear view mirror at us, a tiny smirk playing on his face. I wonder how many times he gets a car full of teenagers hoping to find a party.

Irish narrows his eyes. "If you can hear me, why didn't you respond?"

I press my lips together, not knowing how to answer. If I tell him it's just because I don't feel like talking, he'll know something's up and spend the entire night hounding me about it. He's always like that. He doesn't always understand when he needs to leave me alone. He thinks that he can fix anything that's thrown at me. And most of the time, he can. But not now. Not for this.

Not for Eric.

Tears begin to prick the back of my eyes, and I have to look away without responding. I lean my elbows on the frame of the open window and stick my head half way out of the car, letting the cool evening air whip my hair back. I can't start thinking about him again. I have to forget. At least for tonight.

I can't tell where we are exactly, but I'm guessing somewhere downtown. I can actually hear the music coming out of clubs nearby. American nightlife has always seemed interesting, and though it's probably not much different than England's, I'm excited to experience it firsthand instead of watching it in movies. To me, Americans have always been... crazier. Crazy is just what I need right now.

The driver swerves into a dark alley, nearly causing me to smash my head into the window frame. Luckily, my head slides back into the car safely, though I do crash into Anna's side. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Irish shaking his head at me.

I glare at him and sit back in my seat. Just as I cross my arms, the car comes to a stop.

I look out the open window at a brick building. I can't see any windows on it. It literally just looks like a block placed in a dirty alley. There are two bouncers, looking as bored as can be, lounging in front of a set of black double doors. There's a line up of girls in skimpy skirts and boys in ripped jeans stretching along the entire alleyway. I scrunch my eyebrows together and stare at the torn up building. Why are there so many people waiting to go into this piece of shit?

"This is the best place in town?" I ask, disbelief leaking through my voice.

The driver shrugs. "I don't think it looks like much either, but young kids like you always want to come here." There's something in his voice that tells me that he knows we're underage.

If that''s the truth, I might as well give this place a chance. "All right. Come on, guys, Sunglasses on," I say, slipping on my favorite Ray Bans.

"Sunglasses at night? We look like assholes," Anna mutters, reaching into her clutch to find her pair.

Ignoring her, I step out of the cab. Immediately, we get stares from people nearby. In the dark, Harry and Irish are a bit harder to recognize, but they're both tall and attractive, therefore gaining a whole bunch of attention from the girls in the line.

I hear the car door slam shut as Irish gets out. Before I can take one step away from the taxi, he's in front of me and grabbing my arm. I try to wriggle out of his grip, but he refuses to let go.