Here Forever (A One Direction Fanfic)

Chapter Nine

(A/N) Im sorry for not updating! And this is kind of an awkward chapter... So Im extra sorry! But I don't really have an excuse and I'm not gonna make up a fake one.... But please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top comment. COMMENT PLEASE! I really want your feedback! And vote! So I say 700 reads or 5 votes or three comments? Yes, that's when I'll update. I swear everytime I make another author's note it gets awkward-er and awkward-er. So thanks again and enjoy Chapter Nine! Next Chapter has a lot!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That's enough for today." I heard my mom say and I let my elbows give out and flopped onto the matted floor.

"Finally," I muttered.

"Excuse me?" Mom's eyes darkened.

I smiled, "Finally getting to work on my stretching!" I slicked out the lie, earning a grin from her.

She walked over to the beam and lifted herself onto it. I stood up and stretched my shoulders as I watched her. She put her left foot in front of the right near the end. She bent backwards until her hands palms touched the beam. She asked, "Why are you really in a rush to get out of here?"

I looked at my bare feet, covered white with chalk. I had to start getting ready for Harry to come over. I don't know if I should tell my mom or act like it was a surprise. "No reason." I lie again.

Lifting my head, I catch her staring eyes, "LIAR!" She half shouted.

I took a step back and looked down again to hide my growing smile, which was hard cause my hair was tied up so firmly. "No..." I tried.

"It's a boy! I bet you it's a boy! Isn't it? A boy! You like a boy!" I heard her excited voice followed by her feet touching the floor and rushing towards me. "Who? What's his name? What does he look like? Is he tall? Athletic? OOOOHHHH! Does he play a sport? What classes does he have with you? How old is he?" She interviewed, making me laugh.

I don't really think or remember that my mom is so young. Only thirty-three, she had me at seventeen. She always said when I was younger that she couldn't wait until I was sixteen so she could actually live her teenage best friend moments she missed out on. Now that I was sixteen, I really liked how my mom and I got along. I really loved it, especially now since we're in a different hemisphere. At least I had her to talk to.

"C'mooon, Julie! Tell me! What's his name??" She gripped my cheeks, leaving chalk there, too.

I laughed again, "His name is Harry," I admitted. My smile grew at bit more when I thought of his dimples and green eyes.

My mom was beaming, "TELL ME MOREEEE!!!!!!!" My mom has been waiting... well, forever to be excited with me about a guy. I've had boyfriends and guys I liked but I never really talked about it to her before. She took my shoulders in her hands, "C'moooooon!" She whined as she shook me.

I smiled, "Well... Where do I begin?" I sighed and clasped my hands together. "He's like 6'3-ish, maybe a bit taller. He has dark curly hair and just... amazing green eyes! He's such a sweetheart! Like today! He let me borrow his shirt 'cause the teacher flipped a shit when she saw mine."

"Don't be a little bitch?" She raised her brow.

"Yep," I answered back immediately. "Oh," I laughed nervously, "Guess what?"

She took a look at me, "What?"

I made possibly the most awkward standing position, with my elbows stuck to my sides and my hands going up and my hips pointed to the side. "He's coming over in a few hours!" I fake cheered.

My mom's face drowned with worry, "Your father is going to kill you."

*******

I pushed down on the mop, trying to remove the powder from the mat. I pushed too hard for me to hold and the wooden rod slamed into my ribcage. I whimper as my knees hit the floor. I bend down and tuck my head between my knees, muffling any and all sounds to come out.

I shouldn't have decided to clean the practice room. I never could go cleaning the entire thing without hurting something.

I heard the unfamiliar tune of the new doorbell. I realized it was the first time I heard it. Is that a fucking cowbell? I shook it off and made my way to the door. I got on pointe and peeked through the peep hole. I saw the silluette of a tall curly haired boy I've grown to love.

"Hi, Mr. Styles," I greeted with a smirk. His lips curled into a smile, revealing those cute little caverns in his cheeks. He had his white shirt on from earlier and his backpack resting on his shoulders.

He opened his arms, "Hey, Miss Wescott."

I stepped into his arms and he picked me up slightly. I ignored the slight pain in my side as I giggled. I saw my mom entering the foyer. "Mom! This is Harry, the guy I was talking about."

Harry put me down and faced my mom. "Hello, Madame." He bowed his head and outstretched his hand.

My mom took it and Harry brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it, just like when we first met. My mom giggled like a twelve year old who just got called pretty, "What a gent'!" She managed out, letting her Southern accent flow out.

Harry smiled as he put her hand down gently. "So... Where to?" His accent filled my ears.

"My room's up there," I said pointing to the stairs.

"Excuse me, ma'am." Harry told my mom as we started up the staircase.

"Oh! Harry, are you staying for dinner?" She smiled, "We're trying our hand at some British food!"

"We are?" Oh fuck. This might not turn out so good.

"We are!" She smiled. "I think we all would love for you to join, Harry."

"I would love too. I'll just call my mum and tell her." He said in his British accent.

It's weird. Being here I realized there are more than just one universal British accent. Like how there's different American accents. Louis has one, Harry has another, Liam another and Zayn had a different one. Bradfort? Bradford? Something like that. Niall had an Irish one! I know that from that one Disney movie that came out when I was like two.

I turned to Harry, "Sooo... Our project." I smiled.

Those dimples showed up again, "Let's get started."