NIALL
“Good to see you putting yourself out there.” Zayn comments as I jog to where the rest of them are on the corner.
Taking a deep breath, I give them a nervous smile. Sometimes putting myself out there is hard, I’m not the one who can just walk up to a girl and talk to them like they’re old friends. That’s everyone else in the band.
“I got her number.”
Louis grins and slaps Harry on the back. “I feel like our little Niall is growing up.” He teases.
“Shut up.” I mumble though the bite of muffin I just took. Though I can’t help reaching my free hand down into my pocket and feeling the crumpled napkin.
“She was kind of strange,” Harry notes thoughtfully. “She didn’t seem very friendly to us at all, though she seemed to know exactly who we were.”
Liam speaks up then. “She actually seemed kind of chilly, don’t you think? Like she didn’t want us there at all.”
I wilt slightly at that. I really want to find the right girl, but I’ve always thought that that girl would be a fan. I have never imagined the possibility of dating someone who doesn’t at least like One Direction, it doesn’t seem right.
But even if she does or doesn’t like us… I’m starting to like her.
Something about her is fun, intriguing, and mysterious.
When do I call her? Should I wait a day and then call her? Should I call her right away so she knows I’m still thinking about her?
“… Maybe she was just surprised.” Zayn says.
I fade into the conversation again, looking down and realizing over half the bags of food I ordered are already empty now.
“I don’t care about that right now,” I say, though in my mind, it’s only one of the many things I can’t stop thinking about. “But when do I call her?”
“In an hour.”
“Tomorrow.”
“A few days.”
“This afternoon.”
My head is spinning. That doesn’t help at all, they all think something different. I want to do this right. I want to do it perfectly.
“I still have no idea what to do.”
Liam sighs, always being the sensible one. “Call her when you feel it’s right.” He says, giving me a reassuring smile. “It’ll turn out fine.”
I take a deep breath and try to calm myself, nodding.
We meet the car at the end of the block, hopping in and riding back to the large home where we’re staying for the time being.
“Calm yourself Horan,” Louis jokes. “You look like you’re about to wet yourself.”
I can’t stop fidgeting in my seat. All I can think of is that girl. Katie Jones. She has such a common name; she’s so average looking; she’s a coffee counter girl for God’s sake… yet she’s beautiful. I bet she doesn’t even know she is either.
If I were sure she’s a fan, I’d sing her What Makes You Beautiful.
“Still thinking about that girl?” Zayn asks, breaking into my thoughts.
“No,” I automatically lie, though I know none of them believe me from the looks I get. I just can’t get her out of my head. I talked to her for not even ten minutes and suddenly I can’t stop thinking about her.
The minute we get home, I immediately go to my room and lay down. This girl… what is so special about her? I’ve never felt this way about any of the fans I’ve met, or any other coffee counter girl, not even the nice cashier at Nando’s.
Niall Horan is love struck by the local coffee counter girl?
Great, I can see the headlines now…
We have a signing tomorrow. I’ll call her after that. After all, Liam did say to call her when it feels right.
That feels exactly right.
***
The crowd is absolutely deafening. You think I’d be used to it by now, but it’s still hard to believe, and I still get anxiety around the crowds.
Girls are screaming the highest, loudest screams I’ve ever heard in my life. They’re all jumping up and down and waving, and holding up signs as high as they can. It’s a massive sea of fans, a gigantic ball of noise and sound, all directed towards us.
The only thought that usually keeps me sane at these signings is the fact that these girls are fans that came here to see us. And seeing their expressions when they meet us is almost magical. Just knowing that we’re making people light up with joy is enough to make me enjoy signings.
Going in the blocked off side entrance, we’re only greeted by more screaming fans, only these are inside in a line by the signing table, and their screams echo harshly in the enclosed space.
For some reason I find myself searching for her. Searching for Katie Jones.
I don’t know why, if she wasn’t screaming and asking for an autograph back at Starbucks, she most likely wouldn’t be here. This signing is early in the morning, one that only the really dedicated fans go to.
Unfortunately, I think the others are right. She seemed less than dedicated.
I take my seat in the middle of the signing table, scanning the crowd of antsy fans.
“Niall! Hi!”
“Oh my God, Zayn!”
“Liam! Marry me!”
The shouts are all meshing together into one big ball of noise.
Our bodyguards unclip the rope separating the line from us. I try throughout the whole thing to keep my attention on whatever fan is in front of me, but I still can’t stop thinking about Katie.
Suddenly I’m even more anxious to get back to the house so I can call her.
A couple hours and a thousand fans later, we finally arrive back at the house. I whip out my phone and dash to my room again, wanting to do this properly and in privacy.
Taking a deep breath, I slide open the drawer on my bedside table and pull out the carefully folded napkin with Katie’s number on it.
Punching the number into my phone, I start to notice that my hands are sweating. Why are my hands sweating? How can this girl do this to me when I’ve only ever talked to her in a coffee shop for five minutes?
Press call you coward.
“Why is this so hard?” I groan, falling back onto my bed.
“Niall?”
I bolt straight up again, phone still in hand, to see Zayn peeking his head inside my room, giving me a funny look.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you going to sit there with the phone in your hand forever or are you going to call her?” He jokes, raising a brow and sliding into my room before slowly closing the door behind him.
I find myself chewing on my fingernails all of a sudden. I haven’t really ever dated that much, I don’t know how to act around girls, what to say. Most girls think I’m a pig because I love to eat and fart.
But I’m just a regular guy who happens to have half the world focused on him.
And I still don’t know what to do.
Maybe it’s because I’ve never had much experience with girls, and when I do it doesn’t seem to turn out very well. Maybe that’s why this is so important to me, why I feel like this girl may be someone of the opposite gender who can understand me and not try to change who I am.
Zayn makes his way over to me and sits next to me on my bed, glancing from my face to the phone in my hand. “I know you’re nervous mate,” he begins. “But just call her. She wouldn’t have given you her number if she didn’t want to hear from you.”
My heart is pounding. All I ever do is make a fool of myself when I really like someone. Even Zayn, one of my best mates, can’t calm me down right now. He can calm me with the swarming crowds and help relieve my anxiety, but he’s never tried when it’s about a girl.
He’s never had to.
Just press the damn button Horan.
The green glow of the call button is shining at me like a spotlight. It raises my anxiety, but I know I have to face it. I know I have to stop thinking and just act.
My finger puts pressure on the key and I shakily lift the phone up to my ear.
Ring…
What if I’m interrupting something?
Ring…
What if she’s changed her mind about me? What if she’s going back to acting coldly to the Irish lad from One Direction?
“Hello?”
I find myself freezing up.
She says something else that I don’t catch and I manage to find my voice again. “It’s Niall.”
Now there’s dead silence on her end. Is she thinking about hanging up? Is she regretting giving me her number?
“Niall who?”
“Niall Horan,” I say, still sweating it out as Zayn puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“Oh. My. God. This isn’t a joke right?”
“Why would it be?” What’s wrong with her?
“It’s Niall Horan!” I instinctively flinch away as her voice screams through the phone. “I can’t believe Niall Horan actually called me!”
Wait, what? Oh no…
“I’m sorry,” I say slowly, dreading that my newfound suspicion is right. “Who is this?”
“Mica Halloway from New Jersey! I’m a huge fa-”
My hand instantly droops from my ear. It’s not her. It’s not Katie.
“What’s wrong?” Zayn asks, beginning to look seriously concerned. “What happened Niall?”
I instantly check the number again, not responding to him. No, the number is typed in exactly as she wrote it, no doubt about it. She gave me a false number. Again, I screwed up with a girl. So much in fact that she gave me a fake number to keep me away.
“It’s not even her,” I say numbly. “It’s a fan from New Jersey. It’s not her.”
Zayn stiffens slightly. “Maybe she just miswrote it.” He says after a while.
My nose is burning just like it always does when I get emotionally overwhelmed and feel like I’m going to cry. I press my thumb and forefinger to the inner corners of my eyes, blocking any tears before they can come.
What kind of man are you? About to cry over a girl you hardly even know? Suck it up Horan you idiot!
“She didn’t,” I find myself saying, clenching my jaw. I don’t know how I know, but I do. Something in my gut tells me that this was intentional. “She just didn’t like me.”
He sits there, biting his lip like he always does when he’s nervous and doesn’t know what to do.
“What did I do wrong?”
~~~~~~~
Author's Note:
I do want to admit to being very iffy about this chapter. I've gone back and edited it several times, added things in, took them out, and completely changed the plot so much that my head began to ache. So I would VERY much appreciate some honest feedback from readers! It would help me out a great deal! :)