• 4 •
I opened my mouth to scream when a hand covered it gently.
"Shh! It's just me," the Irish accent I had familiarized myself so well with spoke in my ear. I could smell the alcohol on Niall's breath.
"Oh," was all I mustered out. I didn't know what to expect.
Niall propped himself up against the doorframe, crossing his arms. I shifted from one foot to the other, finally staring up into his eyes.
"Cherry," he began, scratching the back of his neck nervously. I braced myself for what was coming. "I think... you should take it easy on Amira."
I raised my eyebrows. Was he stupid?
"You're serious," I stated. He just looked at me, and when I turned to go, he grabbed onto my arm with such a force it hurt.
"Just hear me out!"
I tried twisting out of his rough grip but he was too strong. Scoffing in defeat, I glared up at him.
"Amira doesn't need anyone looking out for her. You aren't her sister." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. What was wrong with these people?
"You think that?" I barely waited for his nod before I started ranting. "I don't care what you think. If Amira agreed with you, she should come talk to me. And I'm sorry, I'd rather not watch my best friend kill herself at a stupid party," I took a deep breath. "I can't believe this... I'm leaving." I decided, speaking mainly to myself. It only took a second to realize that Niall was my ride home. But he didnt protest. Ignoring this, I whirled around quickly and dashed down the hall... into Zayn.
"Erm, hi," he said, releasing his hands that steadied me when I ran into him.
"Sorry," I muttered. I began descending the stairs.
"Wait," Zayn's voice stopped me. I faced him halfway, hoping he wouldn't see the glaze of tears forming over my eyes. I knew he could tell something was wrong, but probably debated asking.
"Thank you again, for my sister," he said quietly. I nodded quickly, my wedges scraping the stairs as I turned and made my way out.
The air in the night was cool, which I was grateful for seeing as I'd be walking home. I wasn't sure where Amira was but since Niall seemed to care about her so much, I was convinced he'd get her somewhere safe. I slipped off my shoes, as my feet were killing me, and began walking barefoot down the sidewalk. The street lamps dimly lit the empty road ahead of me, and I had nothing to do but think.
I was disappointed in Amira, and angry at myself for going off on her. I knew deep down, that Niall was partly right. But where he was wrong was when he said 'Amira doesn't need anyone looking out for her'. She does. She needs me. And Niall doesn't know her, or me, for that matter, so he shouldn't have said anything in the first place. I wondered if Amira had ran into him after my outburst, or where she went. Maybe she'd run to Effy? God, I hoped Effy didn't hate me, too. That'd make three.
I was still coming up with possibilities as to were Amira could've gone as I approached the door to my flat.
Once I was inside, with the kettle on for tea, I rang Amira. Five times. When the fifth call went to voicemail, I didn't hesitate to grab my truck's keys and dash out the door, to-go tea cup in hand.
Arriving on the party house's street again made me nervous. Vaguely, I remembered what the house looked like. Two story, brick, very suburban looking. I found it quickly and hopped out, right as I saw Harry walking towards me at lightning speed.
"Hey!" He called, stopping right in front of me.
"Hi..." I glanced up at him, confused.
"Why are you still here? Where is everyone? Oh, do you know where Amira is?"
A guilty, sad look passed over his face for the tiniest moment, being replaced with a grimace.
"Amira's... inside." He answered one of my questions, still blocking the way to the door.
"Is she mad at me? Is Niall mad at me?"
Again, that guilty look appeared for a split second, which I decided not to question. I was set on apologizing to Amira and maybe even Niall for my outbursts earlier. What was going on?
"I-I'm not sure," Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"What's wrong?" I blinked up at Harry. He shook his head and shrugged, curls bouncing.
"Well... May I see her?" Realization seemed to dawn on him, and slowly but surely, he moved out of the way for me to pass.
I dismissed Harry's odd behavior as fatigue from the party, maybe. Or intoxication. I sighed and tried the door, which opened with ease.
The house was quiet, except for one room. The living room. Cautiously, I poked my head in, and it was surprisingly all cleaned up of solo cups and alcohol bottles. On the big pullout couch, or bed, Niall and Amira sat, laughing along with Louis about something. I couldn't help but smile to myself as I walked in, Harry suddenly behind me.
Harry cut in front of me and let out a sigh - of relief? - when he saw Niall, it seemed. Stupidly, I shrugged this off. Niall stopped laughing long enough to notice me, which ended Amira and Louis' laughter as well. It was dead silent in the room.
"Hi," I said, quite awkwardly. Niall's face broke into a grin as he hopped up and bounded towards me.
"Cherry!" He wrapped his arms around my waist and shoved his face into my neck.
"So, I guess you aren't mad at me?" Over Niall's shoulder, I made eye contact with Amira, and she looked up at me nervously.
"Amira, I'm sorry, I was-"
"Cher, it's fine. You were looking out for me. I need that."
I couldn't help but feel smug at how Amira, without knowing it, denied Niall's point earlier. Grinning, I plopped onto the pullout bed next to Amira, with Niall on my other side.
AMIRA'S POV
Cautiously, I opened one eye. I was in a twisted embrace with Niall; his arm was draped over my chest and my hand was incredibly close to touching his hair. Feeling embarrassed, I sat up as gently as I could to slide out from under Niall's arm. I yawned. Last night was amazing.
I stood, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. A slight hangover was just wearing off - something I was grateful for. I turned to look at Niall and fought back a gasp.
Memories of the end of the night flew through my brain at lightning speed. Cherise had come over after- After the party, after we fought. We made up. And then, we went to bed. That was all that happened... Right?
Wrong.
Realization hit me like a train on a track, and I quickly twisted my dark hair into a bun. Sneaking one last glance at Niall with an aching heart and a pounding headache, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and exited the room.
Much to my dismay, Harry was in the next room, the kitchen. He was attempting to cook. I prayed that sound of the stir-fry on the oven would cover up the sound of my footsteps, but unfortunately, Harry turned as I walked in.
"Amira," he said. It wasn't a greeting, or a question. He was addressing me.
"Yes?" I retorted, trying to sound nonchalant. Nine years of drama classes should start paying off.
Or not.
"Don't act like nothing happened. I know what you guys did," Harry accused. But it didn't sound like an accusation. "Cherry's a great girl," he began. So that was it. He cares about Cherise. Obviously, I did too.
"I don't want Niall hurting her, and you of all people shouldn't hurt her either. She doesn't know, and she won't. As long as it never happens again."
A million things were running through my head. It's not like Cherise and Niall were in a relationship, so why was this a huge deal? "It was a drunken mistake that meant nothing." I told him. I started to leave.
"Cherise really fancies Niall," Harry pressed, at the stove again. "That's why I care." As if he read my mind.
I turned around to leave. And ran into Zayn.
