Eventually

Chapter 2

I pulled at the hem of my skirt as walked across to get my food. Ugh, he’s staring at me. Why the hell is he staring at me with those judgmental eyes? Fine, I admit: today my skirt was a little higher than the usual. But why does he care?

I picked up whatever was the first thing I saw and sat down on my empty table. I put a spoonful of the tart in my mouth and opened my book.

“There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense.” 

"My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference of situation and temper.”

“You are sitting alone again?”

I looked up to see Niall, his blonde hair swept to the side and his crooked teeth smiling at me. He sat down next to me and took a bite from my plate.

“Hands off my tart, Horan!” I swatted his arm, laughing. “I thought you had a Spanish make up test?”

“I finished early,” he said, his mouth still full with the food. “Where’s Emma? With Liam?”

“Yeah, they are getting pretty serious, don’t you think?”

“Oh, don’t be jealous, Amanda,” Niall teased. “You’ll get someone soon.” He looked behind me and smiled, “Talking of which… Harry Styles is staring at you.”

“Yeah,” I shook my head and glanced at him. He was sitting with Louis and Zayn, and that busty blonde girl who had her hand around his arm. I just smiled very briefly in Zayn’s direction and turned back to Niall. “He made this really lewd comment about my skirt before when I was talking to Zayn and now he’s getting all judge-y on me…”

“You talked to Zayn?” Niall’s blue eyes were wide. “As in, Zayn Malik?”

“Um, yeah,” I started, not knowing how to tell him. “I just wanted to go to his game, so I asked – ”

“You mean, my game?”

“Yeah, I mean – ”

“Seriously Amanda, you never come to see me, and you’re going to come for him. I thought you hated football.” He rolled off his eyes. Niall was so cute; he never hates anyone, but when it comes to Zayn, he loses it. The reason is unknown to everyone.

“I do, I do. But, it’s just that, he’s…” I looked down. “Kind of gorgeous.”

Niall gave me his death stare and I just laughed. “You look cute when you are trying to be angry.”

Niall joined me and we stood up to head to our next class. “See you after school?” he asked.

“Sure.”

*

“Bye,” I smiled to Emma before closing the door. She had dropped by to catch up on the conversation Zayn and I had. She couldn’t meet me and Niall after school, as Liam wanted to drop her home. They sure are getting serious.

I went back to the kitchen and sat back on the counter. I scraped the last bit of frosting from the plate of cupcakes that Emma had brought and took out my History textbook and my notepad. My thoughts drifted to the conversation me and Emma had a few minutes ago – Zayn had been so polite and lovely and gentleman-like. As if his gorgeous face wasn’t enough. And his silky voice. And his deep eyes.

“Are you studying Amanda?” My mum asked as she entered the kitchen.

“Yeah,” I cleared my throat. “Making notes for History.”

“After you’re done, can you clean the cupboards? They might need some dusting.”

“Mom!” I protested. “I can’t! I have a – ”

“I’m sorry,” she smiled sarcastically. “That wasn’t a question. Clean the cupboards.”

I rolled my eyes. “If you want help, ask your brother.” She added.

“Yeah, sure I’ll ask him.” I said. “But I think he’ll be busy going off to a party.”

“Amanda,” My mother calmed me with her voice.

“But you let him go anywhere! You never let me go to a party!”

“Okay,” She gave in. “Clean the cupboards well enough, and I’ll think about it.” She winked and left the room.

She always does this. She won’t let me go, ever, I know it. She thinks I’m too young. Yeah, sixteen for me is young, but seventeen for my brother isn’t.

Ding-dong.

“Dan!” I shouted. “Get the door.”

“I’m getting ready!” My brother shouted from upstairs.

“Ugh,” I muttered to myself as I got up to get the door. When did guys start to take so much time getting ready?

I was getting pissed off now; I had a whole essay to write and submit tomorrow, and my mum just asked me to clean the kitchen cupboards, and now, my brother is irritating me.

 To top it all off, the person standing at door was a tall, handsome, curly haired guy with dimpled cheeks and green eyes. Pathetic.