× Horan
It was after two in the morning by the time I got to the Newman house. It had been a long flight back to London, but now that I was back home, I couldn't have been more relieved. It was fun to be in California, but there was something about the ugly snow and gray sky of London that I missed so much.
But the second I stepped off the elevator and saw who was waiting for me at my door, I would have taken anything to go back to LA.
Even in below freezing tempters, Abby Moor still wore her tiny dresses. This dress in particular was pink and fluttered down to her knees, which for Abby, was relatively modest. She wore matching pink Toms and white socks with little ruffles. She completed the look with a leather jacket, setting off the whole goody-girl look with some grunge. That alone made me hesitate. Something was wrong and I really didn't want to be a part of it.
Adjusting the strap of my duffel bag over my shoulder, I slowly made my way over to her. "What are you doing here, Abby?" I asked. "It's passed two in the goddamn morning."
"Looking for you," she confessed, her baby blue eyes sad. "A birdie told me that you were coming home late. I've been here since midnight."
"Jesus," I muttered as I brushed passed her to unlock my door.
Abby stepped up beside me so I could see her face. "I wasn't waiting here all night, but in the building, the lobby specifically."
After unlocking the door, I stepped inside and waited for her to join me before closing it again. I flicked on the light and dropped my duffel back on my bed. I had always known Abby was crazy, but this was actually ridiculous. If I really wanted to, I could have easily reported her for stalking. But ever since James figured out that we slept together, she had been keeping her distance from me, so knowing she would wait two hours for me to return, I knew that something was really troubling her.
"Why are you here?" I asked again. "Don't you go to your parents during break?"
"And you always stay here during Christmas," she retorted, gesturing to my bags.
When I didn't say anything, she sighed heavily and took a seat on the edge of my bed. I always thought Abby had this confident beauty to her, keeping her head up high and always having a smile on her face, but as she sat there, I saw that confidence she once possessed hidden underneath self-doubt.
"I left early," she explained dejectedly. "My parents aren't very proud of me and I was getting sick of all the harassment."
"What were they saying?"
"That I'm a whore. Ever since they figured out I wasn't a virgin, that's all they think I am; a whore, a slut, a shame to the family. They wanted me to be 'pure' to whoever I married, like it was an actual sin for me to have sex before - they're not even religious! I don't sleep around that much, not like my brother does. But is he a slut? Of course not. He's cherished; the family's honor or some bullshit like that. I can't catch a break."
I took a seat on the bed beside her and ran a hand down my face. "I know this won't mean much to you, but you're not a whore, Abby."
She looked at me, like that was exactly the words she needed to hear. "Thank you."
I watched as she removed her leather jacket from her shoulders and scooted further onto the bed, lying back onto my pillow. She played with a strand of blonde hair between her fingers as she stared at the ceiling.
"Even if I did sleep around more," she started, "it's no one's goddamn business. It's my body and no one should have a say in what I should or shouldn't do, especially my parents."
Unzipping my bag, I started to unpack. I was tired as hell, fatigued with the burden of jet leg; I could have easily pulled off being a walking zombie, dead on the inside but subconsciously awake. I was fine with having Abby here if she made sure to keep her distance, but I was seriously about to pass out and I really didn't want her in my room when I did.
"Did you have anything else to say, because I would appreciate it if you left," I said.
"You never told me where you went for break," she said, skirting over my annoyance.
I slammed a shirt into a dresser door and glared at her. "California," I gritted out. Anything to make her get out of my room and leave me alone.
"What?" she asked, surprised. She sat up straight in my bed and gaped at me. "You were with Lynn, weren't you?"
"It really doesn't concern you."
"I told you to stay away from her, Niall," she said as she got off the bed and stood behind me. "At first it might have been because I was a little jealous that you were paying more attention to her, but now I'm really concerned. You know about all the rumors floating around you two, and whether they're true or not, you know your coach is suspicious."
I turned to look at her. "I understand, but I know what I'm doing, Abby."
"What if word gets out that you left the country with her?"
"I'll handle it."
Her eyes trailed up and down my body slowly as she took a step toward me. "I just don't want you to lose your chance at becoming a professional football player, is all," she droned. Her hands leisurely went up my chest, playing with the buttons on my shirt, until they were placed on my shoulders with a squeeze of her fingers. "Lynn will be your downfall."
I smiled, humoring myself. "Why do you think that?"
Abby smirked back. She stepped in closer so she could wrap her arms around my neck, pulling me in so I was only inches from her face. "Because she's a match, and you're playing with fire."
Reaching behind me, I grabbed Abby's hands from around me and held them to my chest. "I think you need to leave. What if James finds out you're here?"
"Fuck James."
"You can't stay here. Go back to your hall."
"Are you really going to send me out in the dark to walk home?" she pouted. "There are scary people out there, something might happen to me."
I let go of her and walked the room. "Christ, Abby. You did this on purpose."
"Did what on purpose?" she asked innocently.
"Grab your jacket, I'm bringing you home." I grabbed my car keys and started for the door.
Abby stepped in front of me, blocking the door. "You're about to pass out from exhaust, I'm not getting in a car with you."
"You live two miles away; I think I'll be okay."
She just looked at me with wide eyes. I had no idea what her deal was, but she was being persistent, even more so than usual. She had always had determination, something I admired most about her, but this time it was different. This time it was against me and it was seriously starting to piss me off.
"Get your fucking jacket, Abby."
She repelled from my sneer, but she obeyed nevertheless and grabbed her leather jacket. We left and got into my car and drove off to her hall. I was tired, but that didn't make me incapable of driving, especially if it meant getting Abby out of my room.
Campus was deserted. Everyone who was back from their vacation was probably sleeping, but once Saturday came, the place would be back to its usual chaos right before the New Year starts. A kid named John Duchin throws a New Year's Eve party every year, and since he's graduating next semester, this is going to be bigger than his last ones and no one's going to even think to miss it. I for one wasn't interested, but I already promised Jace I would go and I kind of owe it to him since I was an ass at the bar in California.
Once I pulled up in front of Abby's hall, the lights of the lobby illuminating out on the snowy pathway, Abby continued to sit in the passenger seat.
"Niall, I'm sorry for making you mad," she said quickly, looking at me. "I just needed to see someone and you were the only one I could think of. Chloe's out of town and it's not like I can talk to my brother... I just needed some reassurance, so thank you. You gave me that."
"I know I seem bitter around you, but you have to know that your consistency of showing up can get out of hand," I assured her. "I don't mind talking to you, Abby, but it seems like you always have to have some other motive involved."
Abby nodded slowly. "I know, and I'm sorry for that, too. I'm just... I've missed you."
I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. "Next time you need to talk, just give me a call so I know you're coming, okay?"
"Okay," she said softly and opened the car door.
When Abby stepped out of the car and shut the door, I rolled down the window. "Your parents don't deserve you, Abby," I told her. "You're smart, beautiful, and have a big heart... even if that heart can be cruel to a select few, but you're more than what your parents say you are. Do you understand that?"
I knew it wasn't going to be that easy. Being someone who had tried living up to their parent's standards, I knew what I was talking about. My mum never expected much of me when I was younger, but I made it my mission to prove her wrong, thinking that was what I had to do: having this forced ambition to be just like her. I was just glad to figure out what she wanted for me wasn't what I wanted. Abby had that choice, too, she just had to figure it out on her own.
"Thank you, Niall," she said before she stepped away.
I waited in the lot until she was safely inside the building before I drove away. Instead of going back to my hall like I should have, I found myself going to the Aspin House for no reason at all except for a tug in my gut that told me to. Putting my car in park after I found a spot, I looked up at the tall building, searching through the windows.
There was a window on the third floor with the lights on still, the blinds open. I watched carefully as Lynn came into view. I couldn't see enough to know what she was doing, but if I had to guess, I would say she was unpacking from the trip. I just sat and watched her like a stalker I might be. I didn't know what influenced me to come here, but some unknown force made me do it.
Every once and a while, Lynn would look outside. Not because she was provoked or felt eyes on her, but just to look at the freshly fallen snow glittering on the ground and on top of roofs. During the winters, the nights were never very dark. With the street lights reflecting off the snow, nothing was ever pitch black.
Then the blinds shut. I looked up to see Lynn's silhouette through the window as she started to change out of her clothes. Slowly, she lifted her shirt over her head, and I knew that I should look away - to leave and promise myself to never do this again. But I couldn't. I stayed in my car and watched as Lynn unclasped her bra and put a loose shirt over her body.
There was something entrancing about it, clearly, and I didn't know what it was. Just seeing her in her room, warm and safe, made this uneasiness I didn't realize I had settle down. Everything she went through in California, it was nice just to see her away from that and not have anything for her to worry about but football and homework.
I didn't know why, but Jace's words came to me then.
This isn't science; there aren't any equations or textbook answers for this.
And then what Professor Haskins said when I talked to her.
Science is in no way a solid predictor of your future. It's literally just a feeling.
Then Lynn's grandma's examination when she read my palm.
You must think with your head way too much in relationships.
They were right, all of them. None of this had to do with science, or equations, or trying to figure out some rational to everything. Jace had been right, telling me time and time again that it was worth the risk. Professor Haskins had it pinned down, saying that it honestly goes down to what I feel is right. Even Nona had it with her silly hand game, reading the lines like they honest to God told her everything she needed to know about me. And whether that was true or not, she was right. I was in my head way too much. So much that I missed the bigger picture.
It was like an epiphany everyone else had except for me.
Terror filled me and I found myself clutching the steering wheel, my knuckles going white. This was the first time I didn't have any control. All the elation, the nerves, the butterflies, the anxiety, and the euphoria all came together and formed into this moment in time, and I had absolutely no control over it.
They had all been right. Love didn't have anything to do with science and being inside my head. Love didn't have to be complicated; it was as simple as sitting beside her. It was holding her hand while we lay in bed together. And it was illogical to be afraid of the inevitable.
With shaking hands, I grabbed my cell and looked through the contacts before pressing call. I sat as the phone rang, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. I cursed when the call went to voicemail and I quickly tried again.
As the phone rang again, I looked up at the window. The light was still on, but there weren't any movements of shadows. I wondered if she was in bed reading, or maybe on the phone with her Grandma, telling her that she got back to London safely.
"Niall, what the hell?" Jace said from the other line of the phone, making me jump. "It's three in the bloody morning, what do you want?"
I didn't say anything, instead just stared at the window on the third floor.
"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, concern in his voice. "Where are you?"
Again, I didn't say anything. I didn't know if I could even speak. Realization had robbed me of my control; maybe it had robbed me of my speech, too.
"Niall..."
I've once been told that the higher you build your walls, the harder you will fall once someone knocks them down. They have never been more right.
I don't want to fall in love. I have fallen in love before. I have bruised my body, my ego, and that organ between my ribs. The boundaries of luck, gravity, and the unavoidable ground have betrayed me before. Falling in love can scar. Real life is not a Taylor Swift song or a Nicholas Sparks novel, my skeletal system is made up of bones, not musical notes and literature.
I'm someone who over thinks, my mind is always going, so I think of all the end games in everything I do. Any relationship I might fall into, I think of the end scenarios - it's either forever or temporary.
But when I look at Lynn, I don't see either of them. Both of our futures are up in the air and literally anything could happen. But I was willing to get on the ride and find out.
Game theory was a joke. No it wasn't; it was an excuse. I used it in hopes to mask what I really wanted, putting it into sociology, to make it a little more bearable than to face the truth - the truth that I actually wanted to go to LA with Lynn, the truth that science wasn't actually ruling my emotions and that it was purely me. Game theory was a ploy, a strategy, and I didn't need it. I never needed it.
Instead of trying to deny it, or ignore it, or call it something different in each situation, I had to start calling it how I feel it.
"I think I'm falling in love with Lynn Mercury."