July [n.h.]

chapter 6: reformation

Old memories twirl around me like rays of light on a sun-kissed day. It scares me that people, or constants, can change as fast as the weather. That no matter what you do to keep them from leaving, you must learn to let the ones you love go.

And that's what I'm forced to do.

-M.G.

It's a blissful night one month after my mothers pronounced death and my father's appearance. One month that has allowed me to shape myself into a stronger woman than I ever thought possible; who provides support for my sister and myself. With Niall at my side and his family at my back, it's been hard to sink otherwise.

I'm shaken from my reverie at the sound of Roslyn's voice. "Can you tuck me in before you leave?" She asks.

A small smile tugs at my lips as I take Rose's hand and lead us to her bedroom in silent agreement. We enter the room next to mine in Niall's home. It's newly painted green, which is Roslyn's favorite color, and matches the speckles in her eyes.

Pulling back the thick bed sheets, I allow her to squirm until she's found a comfortable spot. Then I delicately push the sheets inward until they are snug around her body. That's how Mom used to do it.

"Do you need anything else before I leave? Are you feeling alright? I don't have to go out tonight," I murmur quietly.

"No, no. I'd feel even worse if you didn't go out because of me. Especially if it's with Niall," Rose beams.

I roll my eyes before proclaiming, "I think you have a crush on him."

We both laugh softly and the tones of our voices fall in sync like finely tuned instruments. I move the darkened red hair out of her eyes as she shrugs and says, "We both know you do too."

"He's nothing more than my friend," I blush, having told this to Rose for the millionth time.

"Keep denying it, but I see between your lies," she teases.

I chuckle once more and kiss the top of Roslyn's head before shuffling out of the room. I turn off the already dimmed lights and whisper "I love you." The same response is muffled through the already closed door.

My attention has now returned to the young night and what it has in store for me. I take a deep breath and turn down a few halls to find the grand staircase that leads to the front entrance of the house. My nude suede heels clink on each step, the echoes beckoning Niall from the living room where he waited for me.

Niall helps me off the last step and onto the elegant marble flooring. His cerulean eyes swipe up and down my body before he takes my hands in his. "You look wonderful," he says, sounding almost breathless. I blush at both his compliment and the feel of his hands in mine before taking in his appearance, leaving me equally awestruck. He adorns a black suit and a blush pink tie that matches my strapless, tight dress.

"You look dashing as well. But I'd have to say the matching tie is pretty corny," I exclaim while trying to smother a laugh.

Its Niall's turn to blush as he runs a hand through his hair, making it more ruffled. "My mother gave it to me last Christmas and I haven't had an excuse to wear it. I figured why not?"

"Your mother gave you a tie for Christmas? How lame," I snort.

His chuckle sounds hollow as he leads me out of the door and into his parked Impala. "Trust me, I've been surprised with a lot worse."

***

I gape at the entirety of Livingston Tower—all thirty floors. The outside is completely made of glass and steel; reflecting both the constellations in the sky and the stars in my eyes. According to Niall, he rented out an entire floor for the night. For what I have yet to find out.

We finally arrive on the thirtieth floor. Niall gives the elevator operator a generous tip and faces me toward himself as the doors close.

He seems at a loss of words, something that doesn't happen often. "I brought you here to meet my best friends. Because you have become a...best friend to me, too."

The words bring tears to my eyes, but he doesn't wait to see my reaction as he pushes open the double oak doors and links his arm with mine.

Before us is the most beautiful sight I've ever seen: an all glass room bestowing the night life of New York City. Right in front of the bay window is a dark oak table that matches the doors, newly set with dinner plates, utensils, expensive Champagne, and appetizers. Sitting at the table are four young men around the same age as Niall, all dressed similarly. They stand as we approach the round table, surprise on their features.

"Sit, boys," Niall instructs as though he's a trainer speaking to a pack of dogs. They obey and we sit before them.

The curly haired one speaks first. "Christ, Niall. We thought you'd never have another girl on your arm after Kaya."

Niall pretends the comment doesn't bother him, but I know better as he tenses up and clears his throat.

I get the words out before Niall: "Don't worry, I'm not his girl."

But who is Kaya?

"He's wearing a matching tie, for Christ's sake," the dark featured boy points out.

"She looks really familiar," another says.

The others nod along with each observation, especially the last.

Niall sighs as he plays with a toothpick in his mouth, "C'mon guys, at least introduce yourselves."

It's not long before I learn the curly haired boy is named Harry, the dark featured is Zayn, and the other two are Louis and Liam. They're all well groomed and polite, each exclaiming something such as "It's so nice to meet you, Micah," or "You're too pretty for Niall's ass." Which, in turn, gave both me and Niall a good laugh.

And it wasn't long until the question I was dreading all night came along: "How did you two meet?"

Niall bristles at my side and whispers into my ear, "You don't have to talk about it."

But the pity in his voice makes me all the more eager to briefly explain the events in my life that aligned our paths. I'm not the same girl I was a month ago. What broke me before has only made me stronger.

It takes me a minute before I gain the courage to speak, but when I do, the words can't stop tumbling from my mouth. All the while, Niall rubs small circles into the bare skin of my lower thigh for support.

When I finish, I'm shivering in remembrance and the entire table is silent. The only sound heard after three minutes is Niall getting up to drape his suit jacket over my shoulders. I'm not physically cold. In fact, I'm sweating. But I know Niall is only trying to help.

After another minute, Harry lets out a low whistle and looks into my eyes solemnly. He brings his glass of Champagne up in a toast, along with the rest of the boys. His words surprise me. "Welcome to the group, Micah. You've been in some deep shit that only we can relate to."

I grin in reply to mask the goose-bumps that rise on my skin. Niall squeezes my hand, excited about my acceptance, but a mix of emotions coarse through me. I've never felt more welcomed, curious, or anxious than in this moment.