Still My Idiots // One Direction [Book 2: Idiot Series]

Chapter One - You Never Called

"Mica, go to bed. It's late," I heard him say from outside my room. I heard his door shut, and then silence.

I grabbed my pillow and pressed it into my face, screaming into it. The noise came out muffled though.

Tears began to fall freely, and before I know it, I was crying into the pillow. I fell alseep like that.

Morning.

"Mica, wake up!" my dad whispered-shouted to me. I was awake already, and knew he was there, but just didn't want to get up and meet the babysitters. "Mica! Up! Now!" he said, yanking me out of bed. I fell flat on my back and groaned in pain.

"Just leave me sleep a little longer," I whined. My dad shook his head and picked me up.

"Get changed. I'm leaving now. Goodbye Mica. Be good." He gave me a short hug and ran down the stairs. I heard the front door slam and my jaw dropped as I realized he had just left like that. I groaned.

Then, I walked over to my closet and took out an outfit, dressing myself slowly to delay the meeting with my new babysitters. I brushed my hair and cleaned my teeth, smiling at myself in the mirror and showing off my pearly white teeth to myself.

I then sighed, walking out of my bathroom, then out of my bedroom. I walked down the stairs and into the empty living room. I could hear some quiet voices coming from the kitchen, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. So I walked into the kitchen to see five boys standing there.

My heart almost about stopped as I looked around at the boys standing in front of me; the boys that hadn't noticed I was stood there yet. But I was frozen, and I couldn't bring myself to say a single word to them. But, they caught my eye, and before I knew it they were all turned and staring at me.

"Hey, Mica!" 

My eyes darted all across his features. His lanky body, his messy hair, his scarred arms, his green eyes, his large feet. I took in every little thing that I had erased from my mind, and I felt like I was fourteen year's old again.

I was speechless, and I couldn't figure out what to do or say as I stared.

"How have you been?" 

His blue eyes. His blond hair. His Irish accent. His perfect teeth. His grin.

My eyes widened, and I knew I'd have to stop acting like a weirdo soon and actually say something.

"Do you remember us?"

His black hair. His brows eyes. His tan skin. His tattoo's. A tattoo. And a wedding ring?

I had finally decided on what I would say now, what my next move was.

"Should I remember you?" I asked them. Just as I said that, their faces fell. They looked hurt and upset.

"Um, yeah, kinda."

His brown eyes. His big smile. His strict voice. His caring attitude. His love for his friends.

I pursed my lips and shook my head, my eyes darting between all of them. My heart was racing and I wanted to leave; I wanted to get out of this situation and run away and I didn't want them in my house. I didn't want them here with me. I didn't want them spending the summer with me.

"Are you serious?"

His blue eyes. His brown hair. His short legs. His soft voice. His fist.

"Sorry boys," I told them, "I don't know what you want me to say."

"It's Liam?" he said, his voice gentle and his eyebrows furrowed. "That's Louis, and Zayn, and Niall? And... and Harry?"

"Here, look," Harry mumbled, but I couldn't look at him. I couldn't bring myself to see his face. But I saw him take his wallet from his pocket, opening it and sliding a photo out of one of the pockets.