Call Me, Maybe? (One Direction Fanfiction)

Chapter One

Chapter One

Despite the early hour of this lunch (3rd period, 9:30 a.m.), the cafeteria was buzzing with the normal behaviors of teenagers: loud chatter, that every now and again flick of food across the table, test discussion, teacher bitching, and laughter. Students gathered at tables, stood in the excessively long lunch line, and cursed at the vending machines once they realized the machines had taken their money. It was a normal Tuesday morning in all aspects, but one table in particular was brimming with excitement.

"Hell to the mother fucking YES."

"Ohmygosh. When?!"

"Uhh, I don't know. Saw it on Twitter."

Three girls leaned in towards each other to talk out all the possibilities this could bring. The other four members of their table paid them no mind, as they were simply used to the behavior of the three when on this particular subject: One Direction-- the recently formed boy band currently taking over the pop music charts. Each day for the past two months, the girls hadn't gone one lunch period without mentioning the boys. What they retweeted, reblogged, posted, and liked. They ranted and raved, squealed and sighed contently all the same. Louis, Niall, Harry, Liam, and Zayn had stolen their hearts and turned them into hyper-when-activated fangirls. It was because of this "dedication" that when Melanie brought to their attention that 1D was going to be on an upcoming North American Tour, the three of them lost control and quickly became involved in a deep discussion, digging up whatever information they could get.

In the bathroom, they endured the half-ass reception and cigarette smoke to see where and when the band would be touring on their phones. Valerie was the first to successfully pull up a site. She jabbed Melanie and Claire in the arms to get their attention and quickly listed off various cities and dates.

Claire interrupted her impatiently and rolled her eyes. "Does it look like we give two shits about Chicago and No-where's-ville? Are they gonna be in Philly or not?!"

Valerie shot her friend an exasperated look but hastily scrolled down the official One Direction page. "Er--Jersey, New York--" She gasped and looked at the other two girls with widened eyes, a slow grin spreading across her face. "Holy mother of God, shit, ass, balls--"

"WHAT?!" Melanie and Claire yelled simultaneously.

"Guys, guys, GUYS--"

"Jesus, Val, spit it the hell out!!" Melanie exclaimed.

Valerie slapped her hands on the sides of Melanie's face and squished her cheeks. "CAMDEN."

Melanie started making odd sounds that sounded somewhere in between squealing and choking, but Claire looked at Valerie in confusion. "Where the flip is Camden? That's not Philly, Val.."

Valerie gave her a look that said you-must-be-shittin'-me and shook her head. "Nooo..but it's the Philadelphia area, ya derp. It's, like, a half hour from here!"

Valerie gathered herself enough to jump in, "Are the tickets on sale yet? How much are they? Ohmygosh, ohmygosh--" She ventured off and started hip thrusting at random things, managing to scare off a few other girls by the sinks.

Melanie and Claire stared blankly at their friend who was now on the verge of kicking open stalls.

"Er..anyway, they go on sale Saturday."

"Well, ladies, do you know how many bitches and hoes we'll have to take out to get these tickets?" Claire inquired. Melanie had joined them again, but was giggling uncontrollably. Valerie just stared at Claire, eyebrows arched in amusement.

"Exactly. One helluva lot. It's a good thing I've got connections, or we'd have a very bloody mess on our hands." Claire turned and started for the bathroom door. "Come now, children. The bell's gonna ring."

Melanie and Valerie glanced at one another and chuckled. Claire had always been a little rough around the edges...feisty to be more polite. She didn't take shit from anyone and she wasn't afraid to kick some ass if needed. Valerie and Mel often concluded that her attitude and temper came from being a red head.

****

Valerie shifted restlessly in her seat. It was eighth period, the last class of the day. It was also the worst class: Biology. She may have enjoyed the class if the teacher wasn't, shall we say, Satan himself in a female's body. Mrs. Flynn (Valerie often wondered what poor bastard decided to marry her) was a towering, string bean of a 60-some-year-old. She had sharp, pointed features and often donned herself in turtles necks, odd, tight pants, and red and black plaid flats that never seemed to match her outfit. She also had a strong liking for a particular purple, flowing sweater.

Time seemed to move backwards in this class. It didn't help that ever since third period, the boys had been on her mind three times as much as they usually were. Louis' antics, Niall's accent, Harry's cheekiness, Zayn's fortune cookie-like tweets, Liam and spoons...She envisioned meeting them in all sorts of predicaments--store run-ins, celebrity parties, sharing adjacent seats on a flight--but they all were so cliché she felt a little embarrassed with herself. She tried to make herself feel better by concluding that the only way she'd be able to meet them, let alone be within humping--I mean hugging--distance, was in her mind.

She sighed. There were 20 minutes left in class. Currently, the teacher was prattling on about the digestive system of an earthworm. Valerie was vaguely aware of the word anus being said a few times. She held in a smirk. Soon, though, she decided this topic took too much thought process and flipped to a random blank page in her notebook. Being sure Flynn wasn't watching her, she began to doodle the boys.

She was just perfecting Harry's curls when she became aware of someone standing in front of her desk. Before she could come up with some sort of defense, her notebook was quickly snatched from her hands. Valarie looked to find the thief was none other than Mrs. Flynn.

How quick can I make it the window?

****

Once the bell rung, Valerie hauled ass out of the room. The blush that had risen to her cheeks was just dying down. She had to endure the remainder of class listening to Flynn make snarky comments about how "art was not her forte" and "if she kept this up, neither would biology". The class truly seemed to enjoy her embarrassment.

She was practically running down the hall muttering incoherent curses and death threats when a familiar voice called out to her.

"Hey, Hot Wheels! Calm your pants!"

Valerie turned and found Claire and Melanie hustling to catch up to her.

"Mother fucking--I hate her. Let's slip cat piss in her food. Or, or, or! We could push her down a flight or three of stairs."

The two laughed. "What's up?"

As they made their way to their lockers on the second floor of the building, Valerie recalled to them the course of events of her last class. When she finished, she glared at her friends as they snickered themselves to hysteria after they found out Flynn had pinned Val's artwork above the chalkboard.