❝ Take care, lest an adventure is now offered you, which, if accepted, will plunge you in deepest woe. ❞
~~~
March 20, 2013
California
“Hey, Whit? I need help. WHITNEY!”
Whitney reluctantly tore her eyes away from her very engrossing game of Candy Crush and looked up to see her mom laden with shopping bags and struggling to get through their front door. “What?”
Mom tossed a few bags inside the door. “Stop looking at your phone and help me bring in everything, please. I still have a ton of stuff in the trunk.” She gestured at the bright yellow shopping bags. “Here, get these. They're for you.”
“Me?” Whitney said, taking the bags from her mom. “What are they?”
"Just clothes. Why?”
“No, just wondering. Thanks,” she responded. Her closet needed serious rebuilding. Everything she owned was borderline emo and utterly embarrassing. (Except for the combat boots. Which she no longer had thanks to the hospital staff “accidentally” misplacing it.) The problem was that Whitney hated shopping with her life, so she employed her mom to find new clothes for her.
“I got you some sweaters. You can look at them after you help me get the groceries out of the car.”
“Sweaters?” Whitney set the bags down and followed her mom outside to the car. “Mom, it’s like seventy degrees outside. Kinda late for sweaters.”
“And they were all on sale!” Mom exclaimed. “Better to get them now than wait until winter. They’re all cute, don’t worry. I’m a good shopper, remember?”
Whitney snorted in a very unattractive manner. “I wouldn’t let my mother shop for me if you didn’t have a better sense of fashion than I do.”
“Obviously. I’m a cool mom, remember?” Mom joked. Whitney let out a single laugh and didn’t voice her agreement.
It was nice to have her mother back home. As she helped haul the bulging grocery bags inside, Whitney recounted how grateful she was that she and her mom had a great relationship. Less could be said about her relationship with her dad, but Whitney chose not to dwell on that. Her mom was here, she was home, and that was all that mattered to Whitney.
Mom arrived back in California just three days after Whitney left the hospital. It was an emotional reunion, to say the least. Whitney and Mrs. Howard picked up Mom at the airport, and when Whitney saw her mother for the first time in three years, she cried right there in the middle of the crowded terminal. Mom cried, too. Whitney hugged her mom as tight as she could and thought to herself how nice it was to not be alone in the real world like she feared would happen.
And they were home, too. Their home. Not Mrs. Howard’s. Their home next door with stucco roofing and withering garden in the front. Theirs and theirs alone.
They’d moved back into their house soon after Whitney and her mom were reunited. That was after thanking Mrs. Howard quite profusely for her generous caretaking while Whitney was recovering, of course. When she walked through the doors for the first time in a long time, Whitney’s chest had twisted painfully. Last time she was here, she was unconscious and sprawled out on the kitchen floor, the aftermath of an accidental overdose that was only supposed to numb her, not plunge her in a coma. It sent chills through Whitney’s body just thinking about it. How she felt so alone and suffocated and sad. How she felt like there was too much of everything surrounding her, and she needed someone to be with her.
(She did, in fact, find that someone. But, of course that was back in Neverland and this was the real world. And quite frankly, everyone needed their mothers to make it. Whitney missed hers for three years too many.)
Everything was the same as it was before. The curtains were the same, the furniture was the same, and the rooms were the same. But the people were different. Whitney was different. Of course she was. It probably had something to do with the six black numbers and letters that used to be on her wrist. The combination unlocked a less angsty, slightly improved Whitney. Which was better than nothing. Better than the angsty, slightly more depressed Whitney.
Whitney hauled the shopping bags upstairs and flung them on her bed. Her room was the same, too. Posters of The Killers were still on the wall. The bookshelf in the corner was still overflowing with books and movies and CDs. Cardboard boxes were still scattered around, half-packed with college things from three years ago. It was rather stuffy, so Whitney opened her window. Maybe the the fresh air would shoo away the dust and loneliness.
She could hear her mom putting away groceries downstairs. The cupboards horrifically squeaked with rust every time they were opened, a result of not having been used for years. Whitney tried to block out the sound as she began to examine the clothes Mom bought for her. It was a rather large haul that included graphic t-shirts, jeans, shorts, tank tops, and, of course, sweaters. “Still can’t believe she bought sweaters in March,” Whitney chuckled under her breath. But she had to admit the sweaters were rather cute. Whitney particularly liked a white one with a giant image of Jiminy Cricket on it.
After folding and putting away everything, Whitney returned downstairs and went into the kitchen where Mom was getting dinner ready. “Thanks for all the stuff, Mom,” she said, plopping down on a kitchen chair.
Mom smiled, stirring the pasta sauce in the pan on the stove. “Welcome. Hey, can you please move your head to the right a bit? A little more...thanks. I’m trying to watch TV.”
Whitney hadn’t even realized the TV was on. She craned her head around to see the screen behind her. “Why’re you watching celebrity gossip?” she asked, turning back to look at her mother. Mom’s eyes were intently fixated on the screen, and she was so engrossed in Access Hollywood that she didn’t respond. “Mom?”
“What? It’s entertaining,” Mom defended herself. She stirred the pasta noodles into the sauce without taking her eyes off the TV.
“Entertaining? No, it’s just stupid.”
“I like providing my own commentary,” Mom explained. “It’s a good way to relieve stress. Do you actually think I waste my life learning about other people’s lives, Whit?”
Whitney smirked. “Hey, a lot can change in three years.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mom waved her quiet. “Shh, let’s say mean things about Joan Rivers’ face.”
“Oh my God,” Whitney rolled her eyes. “Mom, you’re a terrible person.”
Mom laughed. “I know, but so is Joan Rivers!” Whitney couldn’t hold back her laughter. She joined Mom in poking fun at the celebrities on their TV screen (and yes, that included Joan Rivers’ incredibly plastic face) as they prepared dinner. Whitney wouldn’t admit it, but she was rather interested in all of the happenings in pop culture. There were so many faces she didn’t recognize, movies she wanted to watch, and music she needed to listen to. It was overwhelming.
Whitney helped cut up some tomatoes while Mom washed lettuce for a salad. Her back was facing the TV, but she could still hear it loud and clear. She nearly cut off her finger when she heard Mario Lopez say:
“One Direction’s Niall Horan gave his first interview since his stint at the hospital. Stick around, we’ll show you what went down when we come back!”
Of course. Just as she was trying to adjust to the world and move on from Neverland, he had to come bursting in again. Of course.
Whitney missed Niall almost as much as she missed her mom before the coma. There was an unspeakable bond between matches. They were connected more than by the code on their wrists. Was is any coincidence that they were matched together? Whitney still didn’t know how the system worked, but she was grateful it turned out the way it did. And she wished she didn’t take her time in Neverland with Niall for granted. There were nights when she’d wake up with sweaty palms and a racing heartbeat, dreaming she was back in Neverland and without a way out. Every time she dreamed about Neverland, she’d wake up before she found Niall. Or, before Niall found her.
He was inescapable nowadays. Though he told her before that his band was huge, Whitney never imagined how big One Direction was. After seeing their football commercial, she continued to see them everywhere she looked. She’d been trying to avoid news of his coma, but it was unavoidable. Whitney had to face the fact that they woke up on opposite ends of earth with busy lives thrust upon them. The tiny shred of hope she held onto was slowly diminishing.
(Sometimes she questioned whether Neverland really was a figment her own imagination. Maybe he was never her match. Maybe she was only making it up in her head. But then, how could she remember everything – and him – so clearly?)
“Done with those tomatoes?”
Whitney’s head shot up. Mom was looking pointedly at the half-cut tomato and raised her eyebrows at the knife in Whitney’s hand hovering over, but not slicing, the fruit. “You okay, Whit?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Whitney responded. She gave a little shake of her head and returned to cutting up the tomato. “I just got a little...distracted.”
“By the TV? You can turn it off if you want. Or mute it.”
She was tempted. Really, really tempted to turn it off and shove all thoughts of him away in a tiny box in the back of her mind. It was better if she channeled her energy into something other than wasting it on missing a completely unattainable boy. Whitney opened her mouth to answer. “No, it’s okay. I want to see the One Direction interview.”
Whoops.
The commercial break ended, and Mario Lopez reappeared on TV. Whitney paid close attention to what he was saying. “After surviving a horrific car crash last month, teenage heartthrob Niall Horan recently woke up from a coma,” Mario announced with his signature megawatt smile. “Here he is in his first interview since the whole ordeal.”
A blonde woman took the place of Mario Lopez. Across her sat One Direction. Whitney’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t stop staring, the tomatoes forgotten on the cutting board. She saw Niall, looking exactly like he had in Neverland. But he looked...different. He looked utterly uncomfortable on stage. Whitney’s heart panged when she saw how tired his eyes looked. The TV makeup didn’t fool her.
“So how’s it now that you’ve woken up?” the blonde lady in the interview asked.
A brunette-haired boy, seated at the far end of the couch, spoke up. “He’s been sleeping so much. Every time I walk into a room, there he is. Sleeping.”
“Is that true?”
Whitney watched as Niall shook his head and denied it. She knew he was telling the truth, that he hadn’t been sleeping well. She couldn’t sleep, either.
The interview was replaced with Mario Lopez again. “The boys then talked about helping Niall as he recovers and going back on tour,” Mario explained. “Niall was also asked about his speculated relationship with Demi Lovato, which he promptly denied.”
WHAT. Whitney scoffed and inwardly thanked God that the rumors were only rumors.
“Niall is single and ready to mingle!” Mario excitedly continued. “This is what he said when asked what he looks for in a girl. He says, and I quote, ‘I like girls who are chill, I guess. Yeah, girls who are laid back, you know? And I like it when girls aren’t afraid to have a little fun, too. Humor’s important. Basically, I like girls who don’t take things too seriously but can when they need to.’ So, ladies, if you fit that description, who knows? You could be the princess Niall Horan has been looking for!”
Whitney couldn’t hear anything else that Mario Lopez said about the interview. She saw still images of the five boys squished on a couch appear on the screen, but she turned her head away. The sight of Niall was still a painful reminder of the past that she, quite frankly, wanted to forget about. Whitney decided she couldn’t bear to look at his face anymore. She grabbed the remote lying on the counter nearby and shut the TV off.
“Hey!” Mom exclaimed. “Why’d you turn it off? I thought you wanted to watch the One Direction interview.”
Whitney shook her head. Her heart hurt and she was breathing heavier than usual, but she picked up the knife and continued slicing tomatoes. “No, I was right. Celebrity gossip is stupid.”
~~~
Ever since Whitney woke up from the coma, she’d been frantically trying to catch up with the rest of the world. She was convinced that all the important and major events happened in the three years she was in Neverland. So whenever she got the chance and curiosity, she’d type away at her phone and scour the internet for answers. There were so many things she wanted to know, but so far, she learned that The Killers released a new album (which ensued a silent fangirl moment), all of the Harry Potter films had finally been released, and Prince William got married to an absolutely stunning lady named Kate Middleton who was now expecting a child.
There was, however, one specific topic she both wanted and didn’t want to research. But when she saw Niall on TV tonight, curiosity got the best of her. Thus, after dinner, she assumed her usual sprawled-out position on the living room couch, opened Safari on her phone, and gingerly typed two words: “One Direction.”
Nothing could have prepared her for what she found. Several images of the band on the red carpet popped up, so Whitney tapped on one. “Damn,” she whispered. Could boys look as good in suits as they did?
She closed the picture and followed the link to the Wikipedia article. A huge chunk of text awaited her, but she merely skimmed the article and looked for specific information that she remembered Niall briefly telling her about.
The X Factor. Third place. Signed with Simon Cowell. Debuted at #1 on the Billboard charts. Won a Brit and three VMAs. Performed at the Olympics. Sold out Madison Square Garden. Going on a second world tour.
Whitney felt overwhelmed reading all of their accomplishments. “Busy guys,” she murmured.
They were big. Bigger than big, they were huge. Niall definitely wasn’t exaggerating.
They had blogs and websites dedicated to them, a very extensive line of embarrassing merch, and millions of Twitter follows. They even had their own fan fiction written about them, for goodness’ sake. Whitney couldn’t believe how much a boy band had taken over society.
Whitney was in the middle of watching one of their video diaries (she would never, ever be okay after seeing fetus Niall) when Mom walked into the living room. “Whitney, we need to talk.”
The four dreaded words were enough to pull Whitney’s eyes away from her phone. She quickly paused the video. “About what?” she asked, afraid of what she’d hear next.
“You.”
“Oh, boy.”
Mom sat down on the edge of the couch. “We need to figure out where to go from here. You can’t stay at home forever and play Candy Crush or...whatever you do on your phone.”
Whitney sighed. “What else am I supposed to do? I’m not in school, I don’t have a job, and all my friends are gone.”
“That’s what we need to talk about. Whit, do you still want to go to college?”
To be honest, Whitney hadn’t given much thought about college. She’d been trying to stay as far away as possible from reality. “I don’t know,” she said. “Can we talk about this later?”
It was Mom’s turn to sigh. “Look,” she began, scooting closer to Whitney, “I know you’ve been through a lot recently, but it’s time to move on. You need to do something with your life, honey.” She paused, and then hesitantly said, “There’s still Harvard to consider.”
Right. Harvard. She forgot about Harvard. “I don’t think they’ll let me in after I’ve been kind of unconscious for three years.”
“I called the admissions office when you first lapsed into a coma. They agreed to defer your enrollment until you were healthy.”
“Really?” Whitney's eyebrows quirked up. “I didn’t know that.”
“Which is why I’m telling you now. So, do you want to register for the fall semester?”
“I don’t know,” Whitney groaned. She combed her fingers through her hair and clenched her fist. “I don’t know, Mom! I just woke up from a fucking coma and I don’t know what to do.”
Mom gasped. “Language!”
Whitney inhaled deeply and tried to calm down. “Mom, there’s a lot on my mind right now. Just...let me think about it, okay?”
To her relief, Mom slowly nodded and stood up. “Okay. But you need to know that college is not optional. It doesn’t have to be this year, but you are going to college. Deal?”
“Yeah, deal,” Whitney agreed. Mom leaned over and kissed the top of Whitney’s head before walking out of the room and leaving Whitney to her thoughts.
But Whitney didn’t want to think about college, or the future, or life.
So, naturally, she bought both of One Direction’s albums and spent the rest of the night listening to them instead.
~~~
A/N:
LOOK MA I'M NOT DEAD I'M JUST A SHITTY UPDATER.
but really guys, i'm so so SO sorry for the unbelievably long wait. if you're reading this right now, i can't thank you enough for holding out on me and not giving up on this story. you are amazing and deserve all the good things in life.
also, let's all just take a moment to look at the amazing cover on the side that milla (silkensunrise) made for this book. she made it like three months ago and i promised to put it on the side of the new chapter so i'm finallyyyy keeping that promise. THANK YOU SO MUCH, MILLA.
remember to vote and let me know what you thought of this chapter! i've learned i can't promise when the next update will be, but let's hope it's quicker than last time! thanks for reading!
catherine :)
[dedicated to YsBelle, who's been a steady reader for a very long time. thank you for always voting and leaving lovely comments!]