❝whether we're together or apart❞
c h a p t e r s i x
I forced myself to relax. "What do you mean?" Maybe I should start crying or something. He had dropped things in the past if I started crying. Though they had been real tears, and I wasn't sure how good I was at faking sadness. Not to mention, I didn't know if he would even really care.
"You guys just-" he stopped, running a hand through his hair. "I don't remember-" he cut himself off again, shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm probably just confused."
Don't break, Sarah, don't, you'll only make him hate you, I told myself. But he'll find out eventually. And you're making him more confused now. I glanced at him and felt my resolve start to crack. He looked so lost, so confused, so sad. If your positions were reversed, he'd tell you the truth. I sighed. "No."
"What?" he asked, looking up.
"No, we aren't dating," I admitted.
"Why'd you pretend then?" I could've let it all unravel here. Tell him about how Ashleigh had lied, about how we had dated, everything. I could put everyone out of their misery. Niall would know and stop trying to find what he kept missing. The guys wouldn't have to keep lying to him. He would know and maybe it would be even be okay for me. I wouldn't have to hide all the memories, make sure I didn't bring them up. Maybe I wouldn't have to see him and Ashleigh, maybe we could try again.
Except he was staring at me with such confusion, and even a little bit of anger. There wasn't that spark in his eyes that I had gotten so used to seeing; no, now it was reserved for Ashleigh.
He doesn't love you, a voice whispered in my mind.
So instead I lied. "Ashleigh... She likes joking that me and Harry like each other. And I guess she didn't think you'd take it seriously."
"Why didn't you just tell me?"
I twisted my hands together. "We thought it would easier if we just pretended and broke up a few days later so you wouldn't get confused and have to play 'true or false'." It was kind of the truth. Confusing him was part of the reason all of us were keeping me and him a secret. Except, he thought I was talking about me and Harry's 'relationship'.
It was the best explanation I could give, though, Harry and I hadn't really talked about it. I wasn't even sure if we had been fake dating. Yeah, there had been the drive-in-movie 'date', but it had been crashed by Louis. We hadn't done anything else together. We kinda sucked as a couple.
For a moment there was silence, and I took the opportunity to organize my thoughts... Only for him to send me into shock again.
"Do you hate me?" he asked.
I blinked. "Why would I hate you?"
"Because I don't remember you," he said.
I shook my head. "I don't hate you."
For a moment he stared at me, then turned away. "You pity me," he said flatly. I shook my head and sat down next to him. Half of me wanted to bolt up the stairs, before something slipped, but running away wouldn't help. The other half wanted to tell him everything, to try and take away the sadness and confusion in his blue eyes, but nothing I could say would really help him.
"I don't pity you," I told him. "I think you're really strong for going through this."
"Can you tell me something? About the past year?" Niall asked.
"The doctor said we should let you remember on your own." It was a lame excuse, but the only one that I could really think of. I knew enough about Niall and what happened in the year he didn't remember, but most of it was about us, and he didn't know about us.
"Please," he said. "I keep seeing these things, but nothing makes sense."
I hesitated and my eyes fell on the TV. That gave me an idea. There was one thing I could tell him, or show him, that might spark his memory. I wanted him to remember about us, but not through telling him. I wanted him to remember by himself, so maybe I wouldn't have to explain our relationship. "There's a TV Show you used to watch..." I trailed off, grabbing the remote from the table. We use to watch, I corrected in my mind, but didn't say it out loud. I turned it on, then went to Netflix. "Do you want to see it?"
He glanced at the TV, then at me, then back at the TV. Then he nodded. "Okay."
I typed the title in and selected the first episode. I had fallen in love with Skins the first time I had seen it. Niall had Skyped me once, after I just finished watching an episode. I had been curled up in a ball, sobbing and shaking, so he had made the decision to watch an episode to see why it made me cry. Skins wasn't the kind of TV Show I thought he would like, but we both ended up addicted to it and would watch episodes together. Well, sort of together, we would be watching while Skyping. It wasn't the same as having him with me, but it was better than nothing.
Niall didn't comment as it started playing, instead watched the TV intently. Don't ask me how we ended up in the position we were in when the episode because I wasn't really sure. Sometime during the movie, Niall had ended up lying down, his head on my lap.
"Wow," he said quietly as the end credits played. "Thanks."
"Did it help?" I asked, turning off the TV.
"I don't know..." he trailed off, letting the conversation drop.”Can I ask one more thing?" he said after a couple moments.
"Sure." it almost felt like before. Neither of us had moved for some reason, and it was still a little awkward, because he didn't know me and there were so many things I wanted to tell him, but we were talking again.
"Tell me a story?" he asked, his shy voice filling the darkness.
I laughed. "What kind of story?"
I felt him shrug, his shoulders digging into my leg, but not in a painful way. "Anything."
A story? I had heard enough fairytales when I was a kid, but the small details were fuzzy. I didn't like horror stories, so I tried to forget them the rare times I heard them. Then I had the idea of one particular memory.
It was stupid, but I wanted to use it. I wanted to know if he remembered.
One Direction was staying at our hotel. And while Dad constantly reminded me that it was good for business, I kind of wish they weren't.
I don't hate One Direction.
I'm not a crazy fan girl or anything like that, but I don't hate them.
It's just that, where One Direction went, screeching fan girls followed. And it was just a little annoying having to fight through the mob of teenage girls at the front doors and the security that kept them out of the hotel. Also, as admirable as their dedication might be, the screaming made it really hard to sleep at night.
I was starting to believe I would develop insomnia before it was all over. My temporary insomnia was how I ended up on the roof at midnight. It was louder up here than in my room, but it was also somehow more calming.
The calm didn't last long.
The door crashed open, then slammed shut almost immediately, the lock clicking into place. The sound of fists pounding against metal and muffled, excited screams filled the air, which could only mean one thing. Someone famous was on the roof with me. And since there was only one group of particularly famous people staying at our hotel, that meant someone from One Direction was on the roof with me.
I turned around slowly. It was dark, but there was enough light from the buildings around us that I could see his face. It was the blond one, Niall Horan.
"Hi," he said. He was tense, it wasn't extremely noticeable, he still looked casual, but his eyes were tired, wary. I had a feeling he was, maybe unconsciously, waiting for me to scream, or attack him, or something like that.
"Hey," I replied calmly. I was sort of used to celebrities. Used to them enough that I could stay calm around them. They stayed here often, since the hotel was in the middle of downtown Toronto, and rated five stars. Admittedly, I had never really met a celebrity that had attracted so many fans during their stay. One Direction was one of our more famous guests.
For a moment, it was silent as he watched me for any signs that I would freak out. Apparently happy with what he saw, he relaxed. "Uh, is there any other way off?" he asked, glancing at the door.
There was another way off the roof, unofficially. No one except for me really came up here, so the door got stuck frequently, even when I didn't lock it. After one time where I had been stuck up here for so long that Dad had called the police, I decided to have a back-up exit. Since one of the suites was more or less my permanent room, I had tied one end up a long rope ladder to the window, and the other end to a small metal loop secured on the roof. That way if I got stuck up here, I could climb back into my room.
I only used it in emergencies, though. It wasn't exactly safe. The knots could come undone, I could slip, the ropes could break. A fall of fifteen stories onto concrete could easily kill me. And I had a feeling if I got Niall Horan killed... Yeah, Dad wouldn't forgive me for that one. Not to mention all of his fan girls that would probably have my head.
Finally, I nodded. "But it's not supposed to be used." I should at least be honest.
He pouted. "Please? Paul's going to kill me if I don't get back. I'm already in trouble for sneaking out."
This piqued my interest. What would Niall Horan be sneaking out for with so many fans around? "Why'd you sneak out?"
"I'll tell you if you tell me how to get off," he said.
I shook my head. "It's dangerous." His secret wasn't worth his death. And mine. Hmm, I wonder who would get me first, though. Dad or the fan girls? Geez, Sarah, you're thinking about who would kill you first if you accidentally killed Niall Horan. Isn't that just a little morbid?
He sighed, going back to his pouting. A couple seconds of silence passed before he spoke again. "It was food."
"Food?" I repeated. Seriously?
"I was hungry!" he protested.
I stared at him. "There's this thing called room service. You can order food and have it brought to your room," I told him.
He shot me a half-hearted glare, then stopped, seeming to realize something. "Do you have a cell phone?" he asked. I shook my head, watching his hopeful expression drop. "The guys are gonna be worried."
Awww. "How good are you at climbing ropes?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. Don't blame me, okay? He looked like he had just watched his best friend get run over.
Niall grinned, sensing my possible surrender. "Best in my class in seventh grade."
I sighed and mentally face-palmed. "I can show you the other way to get off. It's up to you whether or not you want to use it." I stood up and walked across the roof to where the rope ladder was hanging.
"This is the other way?" he asked, stepping up beside me. He stared at the flimsy rope with wide eyes, then turned to look at me, a hint of suspicion in his expression. "I think you're trying to kill me."
I shrugged and rolled my eyes. "Unofficially. And if I wanted to kill you, I could just push you off."
"Where does this go to?"
"My room."
"Are you even allowed to do this?"
I shrugged again. "Probably not. But that's my permanent room."
"Permanent room?" he repeated.
"Is this safe?" he asked, reaching down, to tug at the topes.
"No. It's only for emergencies." I had only used it twice. The first time had been terrifying. The second time was better- until I almost slipped and let go of the rope. I had decided to bring something to keep the door from closing after that. "You asked for the other way off," I reminded him when he turned to look at me with an expression that clearly showed that he thought I was insane.
"I didn't think it'd be this!" he exclaimed.
"You could just wait," I suggested, glancing at the door on the other side of the roof. The banging had stopped, but they were still screaming his name.
He shook his head. "I have a concert tomorrow in Vancouver. We're supposed to leave soon." He glanced at the rope ladder again. "Let's do this," he said. Though he tried to sound determined, there was still a small tremor in his voice that showed that he wasn't as fearless as he tried to appear.
I blinked. "You sure?" Was he actually gonna do this? Oh god, if he died... Yeah, that would be really bad.
He nodded hesitantly. "But can you go first?"
Well, I've done it twice, and not died. This shouldn't be too bad. I crouched down and turned so I was facing him, then cautiously placed my foot on the first rope. Slowly, I eased myself down; glancing below me several times to make sure my foot didn't miss the next step. I felt Niall's eyes on me, but didn't look up, focusing instead on the ladder. After a couple moments, I made it to my window. I had left it open today, thank god. I shifted to the right to switch sides on the ladder then crawled in through the window.
I wiped my palms against my pants, trying to get rid of the burn from my hands sliding on the rope as I glanced around the room. It was still pretty neat since I had gotten here last night and been too lazy to unpack everything. There wasn't anything embarrassing left out since the maids had been here after I left last weekend. I poked my head out the window and looked up. "You doing this?" I called. I wasn't sure if he had changed his mind. I hadn't seen anything fly by the window, which meant he hopefully hadn't tripped and fallen.
Niall looked over the edge of the roof and nodded before disappearing again. Then I saw his foot appear on the first step. "Distract me!" he yelled down.
"Why didn't you tell me you were afraid of heights?" Then I wouldn't have let you do this.
"I'm not! I just don't like the idea of hanging fifteen stories above the ground," he replied, slowly inching down to the next step. "So do you like our music?"
"Isn't that a little bit of a conceited question?" I asked, raising an eyebrow even though he couldn't see me. He stepped down another step, so I could not see the bottom of his legs without leaning out the window. He didn't speak again as he focused on getting down and climbing through the window.
"I never want to do that again," he declared, wiping his hands on his jeans.
"Well, at least you didn't die. That'd be kind of bad for the hotel's reputation," I said. Oops, that was probably not the nicest, or most reassuring thing to say. I should really think before I talk...
He stared at me for a moment, then a quiet chuckle escaped his lips. "So," he coughed. "Thanks."
It was my turn to stare at him in disbelief. "You just climbed down a rope ladder fifteen stories off the ground and you're thanking me?"
He shrugged and nodded. "Hey, you never answered my question. Do you like our music?"
"Does it matter?" I asked, before I could stop myself. I mentally face-palmed. Rude, Sarah, rude. He shrugged again and looked at me expectantly. I considered his question as we walked through my room to the doors on the opposite side. I wasn't really a crazy fan, but it wasn't bad. They had pretty good voices. "It's pretty good. I like your acoustic stuff better, though," I admitted. We were at the door now.
He opened it and stepped into the hallway. "Thanks again. Any way I can make it up to you?" I shook my head. There wasn't really anything I wanted. I mean, yeah, it was Niall Horan, and there were probably a million girls who wanted something from him, but I didn't really care for things like autographs, and posters. "You sure?" he pressed.
I hesitated. But it was Niall Horan. "I have a couple Directioner friends..."
Before I could finish, an angry shout came from down the hall. “Niall!"
He winced. "Gotta go. Thanks again, Sarah!" And with that, he whipped around and ran down the hall, leaving me to stare after him in confusion. How had he known my name? I had never mentioned it to him, and I definitely wasn't famous, not like him.
I looked down the hall, wondering if I would ever see him again to ask.
♡over again♡
The next day, I found a tote bag in the hallway outside my door. There was a little tag on it that said my name. Inside I found five rolled up, autographed posters, and a CD. The acoustic version of one of their albums. It hadn't been released yet. The release date wasn't for another three months. And scribbled on the inside of the CD cover was a series of numbers.
Niall's phone number.
Soft snores filled the room, telling me he had fallen asleep. I looked down, barely able to make out his peaceful expression in the darkness. He didn't recognize the story, I thought, absentmindedly playing with the short strands of his hair. Suddenly, the front door slammed open, causing me to jump. Luckily, it didn't wake Niall.
"Sarah?" I breathed out a sigh of relief at the familiar voice.
"Hey Louis," I replied quietly. I carefully shifted Niall off my lap and stood up. Too late, Louis had already seen his sleeping band mate.
"Did you wear our little Nialler out?" Louis asked, sounding amused
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "He just fell asleep on my lap," I said, following him into the dimly lit corner.
Now, with the faint light from the flickering bulb in the corner, I could actually see Louis expression. Raised eyebrows. Not much of a surprise. "Sure there wasn't more to that?"
"I told him the story of how we met," I fought to keep my voice steady, not wanting to him to see how much it hurt. "He didn't... Know it."
He sobered, easily seeing through my thin defense. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he told me quietly, pulling me into a tight hug.
"What if he never remembers?" I muttered into his shoulder, returning the much needed hug.
Louis pulled away and held me by the shoulders, looking me in the eye. His next words weren't a joke, or something to make me feel better, his voice was dead serious. "Then you tell him."