Fall (One Direction) [Sequel To Run]

Chapter Eighteen

He's silent for a moment.

So am I, because how am I supposed to respond to that?

“Sorry” he says finally. “That was weird. Sorry.”

“It's fine” I say.

But I don't say I miss him too, and I know he notices.

But I don't want to lie to him.

“Well, um . . . how are you? Really. Don't give me some crap like 'fine', I know you better than that, Louis.”

“No, you knew me better than that” I say, and then I end the call.

Well, that was a bloody waste of time.

The phone rings again, but it's him, so I don't answer.

I don't know why he keeps trying.

Him calling all the time won't get my memory back.

But the more he annoys me, the more likely I am not to answer.

So the next time the phone rings, I'm sat in my room watching Netflix.

I'm fine where I am now.

-

Flynn

“Yeah, Mum, we're fine” I say, resisting the urge to roll my eyes as I turn to face her, closing the fridge door behind me. “He's sweet.”

“He likes you” Mum says, smiling sympathetically.

“I know” I say, tossing the apple I chose from hand to hand. “I'm not gonna let him cheat on his girlfriend, even if he doesn't remember he has one.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, taking a seat at the kitchen table and inclining her head to me.

I don't join her.

I'm tired of my mum psychoanalysing me. It may be her profession, but that doesn't mean I appreciate her practising on me.

“Yes, Mum, I'm sure” I say.

“You loved him” she replies.

“Yeah, loved” I say. “Past tense. I don't care anymore.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Yeah, Mum. Every time he so much as looks at me. It doesn't seem to change anything. But I'm not gonna let him cheat, don't worry.”

She raises her hands defensively, smiling.

“Okay, okay, I won't meddle” she says. “I just want to make sure you know what you're doing, that's all.”

“Yeah, thanks Mum” I say, with more than a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

She just smiles serenely, meaning she probably heard me but doesn't care.

I take my apple and hurry to my room.

My laptop, on my bed.

My boxes from university stacked in one corner, that I have no intention of unpacking just to repack at the end of the summer.

I sit on my bed, biting into my apple and chewing slowly.

My therapist Mum has a point.

I'm going to the cinema with Louis tonight, and I know he thinks it's a date.

I know he likes me, because to him, we were just dating a few weeks ago.

But I won't let him try anything.