Waking Up In The Dark (Niall Horan)

Chapter 11

"Fine then. You don't believe me," I turned towards Rose, "Then let's race."

"What?" she giggled. "That's ridiculous, why would anyone race about eating food the fastest?"

"I think you're scared."

"Oh, really? Okay. Get ready... one... two... three!"

We both shoved food in our mouths at the same time, not bothering to chew or taste. I crammed more in my mouth with the fork, but eventually gave up and used my hands for the chicken. She followed suit, glancing at me, and obviously trying not to burst out laughing. I did the same. Her mouth was smeared with grease, crumbs all in the corners of her lips. Her eyes were bright and full of amusement, not really even caring about winning or not, just wanting to see how weird I could be. I also glanced at the boys. They looked absolutely horrified.

I choked, and started coughing. Abruptly, she stopped, and stared at me, concerned. "You okay?"

A few more coughs escaped me, but I then grinned mischievously, coming up with a brilliant idea. I reached down and threw a piece of bread off my plate, onto her hoodie, and continued devouring the delicious, but filling, food. She gasped. "Hey! Cheater!" She threw a piece at me also, but it landed a few feet away from my lap, right on top of Harry.

He groaned. "Please, keep this feud to yourself, some people are trying to eat humanely!" He nibbled on his sweetcorn, watching them with mild horror and interest.

I shoved my last piece of steak in my mouth, shouting "Done!" the same time Rose did as she swallowed a bit of biscuit, holding the part she couldn't in the only room left in her mouth.

Liam gaped at us. "See?! You are twins!" He turned an accusing glare at Rose. "Are you sure you've never seen him before? You could be related."

She swallowed, and laughed while shaking her head. "Nope." She stood up, her knees popping as she did so. "I'll be right back," she said, as she walked off toward the table, grabbing a bowl and heading to the last section of the buffet.

"She's getting more?" Zayn asked. "Dear Lord."

"I could too, i just don't wanna be full if we're going out to eat tonight." I rubbed my stomach gently. On the inside, I was crying with agony as it groaned and cramped, protesting the food race I did, which I almost regretted now.

"I'm back," she announced, and sat down, setting a bowl full of of ice cream covered in toppings in front of her. "Did I miss anything?"

"In the whole five seconds you were gone? Yes, you missed the whole world coming to a devastating crash and burn," Louis said sarcastically.

She ignored him. "Do you have a spoon?" I shook my head, but Liam jumped back and hid behind his chair, using it as a shield.

"Sp-sp-sp-spoon?" he stuttered, quivering behind his make-shift fort. "W-w-where?"

Zayn smoothed his face into a sympathetic, calming face. "Hey, it's okay, there's no spoon you're good."

As he tried to coax Liam in his seat, I decided it would be best to tell the confused-looking Rose about his fear. I leaned over into her ear, and restrained myself from wrapping her into a hug. "He has a wee fear of spoons, and had one since he was a kid. Just try not to mention it." I pressed a spoon in her hand under the table surface, shivering as my cool skin brushed upon her burning hot hand.

She smiled at my touch, then hid the bowl under the table onto her lap and muttered a thanks. I nodded.

Secretively, she glanced up at Liam, and tried to suppress a laugh. Rose turned towards me. "And you yelled at me about staring!"

I blinked. "What?"

"You're staring at me."

"No."

"Whatever makes you feel better." I pretended to sniffle, and she grinned. What a beautiful sight, like watching the sun rise over waving hills.

Liam's heavy breathing and Zayn's struggled efforts were loud, interrupting my daydreaming. Zayn's brow was covered in sweat, his arm wrapped around Liam, basically trying to haul him in his seat. Liam cowered, continually looking at me, frightened by the prospect of me having a spoon, his eyes recalling the event with the silverware this morning. I couldn't help it; I silently giggled along with Rose.

We exchanged an amused glance, and she stood up with an empty bowl, hiding her spoon in the palm of her hand. She trod off, placing the bowl on a table reserved for dirty dishes, but it was inadequate, the cooks usually just got the dishes off empty tables. My jaw dropped.

How had she eaten it so fast?

Harry stood when she returned. "Are you comfortable with meeting the crew?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"No, not yet," Louis said. "We need to take you to the stylists. You can't just saunter in looking like...that." He gestured to her entire body. The black hoody was covered in stains, no longer really black, more of a dark rainbow. Her jeans were torn and ripped, threads hanging off it all. And the shoes...she had already managed to get them covered in dust.

"I think I'm good."

"Maybe he's right," I butted in. "They might not except you if you look grungy."

Her face twisted into a scowl. "That would work in my case, but fine, do what you wanna do."

Satisfied, Louis nodded, and motioned for the band to come along. "We really don't look any better," said he at the sight of the grudging faces. "Might as well."

They filed off, out of the cafeteria. I inhaled her smell once more. It might be the last time she smelled like that. "Don't worry, stylist sessions aren't that bad."

Rose turned and gave me a look that read, Really?

I recalled all the times I had ever been there. All the hairspray floating every where, the smell of new clothes and the strong, powdery scent of make-up following you every where you went. The stylists were good at everything they did, but they went over-the-top a lot. The band had eventually learned that they had to argue with them occasionally, just to keep their reputation safe when they went in public. They honestly weren't that bad, unless you misbehaved, or suggested an idea that wasn't theirs.

I sighed. "Well...most of the time."