Five Little Liars (One Direction/ Pretty Little Liars)

23: Brothers, Sisters

NIALL

"Hi, sweetie, are you okay? How'd you get home?" Mum asked, poking her head into my room. She was in her dressing robe, so I assumed she'd been in the shower, probably through all the telephone calls.

"Hey," I sighed, lying back on the pillows. "Trisha drove me home."

"From the dance? I thought Colin Payne was driving you," Mum asked, entering the room. She perched on the edge of my desk and stared at me, awaiting her answer.

"Stuff happened, Louis got into an accident, we went to the hospital," I informed her.

"Oh, well is he okay?" 

"Not really," I said quietly. "He's got a broken leg and a cracked rib."

"Is this about those rumours about him? In school?" Mum asked.

I sat up to look at her. "How do you know about that?"

"Colin Payne told me when he came over to return Greg's suit," Mum explained. "Why didn't you tell me, Niall?"

"You don't get it," I said, pulling the blankets over my head. I couldn't stand the concerned look she was giving me. "Before you ask, no I am not getting bullied."

That was sort of a lie. I mean, I don't actually have any of my old friends anymore, minus the lads. I mean, not even Eleanor, Perrie, and Danielle will let me hang out with their other friends. I went up to Perrie after English class and she told me to leave her alone, which, of course made all her friends laugh. It was painful, not having anyone to sit next to in Chemistry or anyone to chat with in Gym. But I wasn't being bullied exactly.

"Okay," Mum said. "Well, are you hungry? There's some roast left over from dinner."

"No," I said, shaking my head.

"Yeah you are," Mum said. "You haven't had anything since lunch, unless you somehow ate an entire meal at that dance. I'm going to warm up some roast for you, and you and I can watch the Home Improvement Network."

I moaned the second she left the room, and removed the blankets from my head. As much as I loved my mum, I also hated her when she did that. It was really late at night to be eating roast. I didn't want to watch the Home Improvement Network, either, but I didn't really have a choice.

I began unbuttoning my shirt. It was a bit too small, and it constricted my movements. I wanted to wash my hair, too. Lottie Tomlinson slathered so much hair wax into it that it was almost hard to the touch, and didn't move in the wind at all.

Once I'd changed into a pair of trackies and a baggy Rolling Stones shirt, I followed my nose into the kitchen, where my plate of roast was waiting. I frowned down at it. It looked delicious, and smelled even better, but I knew what would happen if I started eating it. Despite my concern for myself, I picked up the plate and walked into the living room, where Mum was watching a show about young couples buying their first houses.

I flopped onto the couch next to her and watched for a while before she said, "Sweetie, if you don't eat it soon, it'll get cold." I frowned, but nodded anyway. Cautiously, I picked up the fork and cut off the tiniest bite I could manage to cut. I put into my mouth and chewed it without breathing; this way, the taste would be dulled. "How is it? Jesus Christ, Niall, you barely tasted it."

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I said I wasn't hungry."

"You're never hungry anymore," Mum sighed. "You don't have to finish it. Just have a bit more. For me."

I could tell what she was doing. She knew. I don't know how she knew, or who told her, but she knew. "Who told you?" I asked. I looked at the side of her face until she turned to me.