❝As long as there was coffee in the world, how bad could things be?❞ ▬ Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes.
CHAPTER TWENTY
One Week Later: Saturday the 3rd of August
"Are you ready yet?" Niall shouts impatiently from the living room as I fix my hair in the hallway mirror, checking for the hundredth time today that I look decent enough to show my face in front of my ex-best friend. I do look decent, but I know she'll look better. She always does.
"Nearly!" I call, frowning as I adjust the zip on my jacket, nervously observing my tired reflection. I didn't sleep well last night; I kept tossing and turning, anxiously fretting over thoughts of today. The fact that I was alone, as Niall has insisted on spending the past few nights in his house (which I'm mostly happy about, because in the mornings I need time to shower and get myself presentable before going to meet him), didn't exactly help.
Behind me, Niall appears in the hallway; I watch in the mirror as he loops his arms around my body, holding me tight from behind. Over the past few weeks, he's eaten so much food that his arms have built up a bit of muscle; as a result, his embrace is strong and safe, and though it was before, it's even more so now.
He tilts his face to place his lips near my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck as he speaks. "You look beautiful, okay? Now come on, we're going to be late," he says softly, and obliging, I turn round to face him. I glance up into his twinkling eyes.
"I don't know if I can do this, Niall," I tell him truthfully.
"But you're Anna Winters," he chukles, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my hipbone beneath my shirt. "You can do anything." He catches me rolling my eyes and frowns again. "What are you so worried about?"
"It's just, I haven't seen her in so long," I explain. "And I'm worried what she'll think of me because she's amazing and-"
"And you're not?" Niall interrupts, lifting his eyebrows. "You're the most amazing girl I know. Just be yourself. Besides, you were best friends for ages, right? She's not going to judge you. Just pretend she never left and you'll be absolutely fine."
"Okay," I whisper, taking a deep breath to calm myself. That's the thing about Niall: he always knows exactly what to say to make me feel better. "Okay. Let's go."
Niall beams at me, triumphant. He takes my hand and opens the front door, leading me outside. "And then," he goes on while I lock the door behind us, "after about twenty minutes, I'll pretend to run into you, and you can brag to her about your amazing Irish hunk of a boyfriend. And we'll make her really jealous, yeah?"
"Yeah," I laugh, squeezing his hand tight as we make our way down the garden path. With my other hand, I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a slightly crumpled ten pound note. "Here you go," I say, placing it in Niall's palm before closing the gate behind us.
"What's this for?"
"This is for when you ever-so-kindly offer to buy us drinks and cake," I state matter-of-factly.
"Ah," Niall says, nodding. "I see."
We walk in silence, and my thoughts wander dreamily to how incredibly lucky I am to have his hand holding mine right now, all warm and soft, and how his laughter is like sunshine, dancing through the summer air as he talks, that gorgeous accent filling the skies and flooding the world with warmth. I think about his smile, and then I look at his smile, and I know that nothing will ever be bad again. It's hard to feel sad when you know smiles like that exist.
Despite my best efforts to keep such thoughts at bay, I also think about what he told me last week, on the night of the Band Battle. If I wasn't so utterly engrossed in falling for him and enchanted by the incredible feeling of being his, I'd be concerned about the fact that he's opened up to me and in return, I still haven't done the same. But I am, so I'm not. After all, he's yet to mention it. Maybe it's because he knows deep down that I don't enjoy talking about my past. Or perhaps he's simply assumed that I have nothing to hide, that he already knows all there is to know. If that's the case, he couldn't be more wrong.
I wish I could muster up the courage to tell him the truth -- both about Harry and I, and about how I came to stumble across his house that morning just five weeks ago -- but I simply can't bring myself to ruin the perfect little infinity we have as of right now. This past week has been the best of my life, so beautiful that I'd hate myself if I were to let anything taint it. And I know that the truth would do exactly that. Niall would be disgusted with me if I admitted to having slept with Harry; even though it happened years before I even knew Niall existed, it would still be a troubling thought to get out of his brain, one that would affect our relationship badly. And if I told him of how I was going to commit suicide that morning, he'd see me as what I was that day: dumb and cowardly and vulnerable. Since then, I've moved forward; I've become stronger than I've ever been, and I've been a lot happier, too. But if Niall were to find out about my once-strong wish for death, there's a chance he'd see me as what I was before I met him. He'd see me as someone who needs protecting, who would rather run and hide from their problems than face them-head on. Bottom line, he'd see me as weak. And if he, my favourite person in the world right now, saw me as that... well, the truth is, I don't want to be that person. I don't want that person to be a part of me. But if Niall knew that person, that girl I used to be, I wouldn't be able to escape her. I'd be stuck with her forever.
As we hop on a bus and travel into town, our fingers still intertwined, thoughts of Niall and all I'm hiding from him surprisingly diminish, despite our current contact. They are replaced by thoughts of Cassidy. Once she enters my mind, I can't seem to get her out again. I still can't believe I'm seeing her today, after all these years; she only came back to Bournemouth two days ago, but she instantly texted me arranging to meet up. I told her I was busy with friends -- which was true, as all five boys and I spent the past two days at the beach, although that's not why I said it; I just didn't want her to think I was a complete loner -- and so I suggested meeting today instead. She jumped at the chance, excitedly replying lists containing names of various cafés and restaurants or movies that are showing at the local cinema to choose from. Eventually, we agreed on a simple coffee date; 2pm at Costa. I glance at the time on my phone; 1.56. I take a deep breath and stare out the window, watching quietly as the world rumbles past.
We get off the bus just outside Costa, sunshine beating down on us. I quickly peer in through the large windows, ushering Niall out of view just in case Cassidy happens to look up and see us. Sure enough, there she is, facing us, long golden hair cascading beautifully down her chest, sipping on what appears to be a cappuccino. Thankfully, she's looking down at the phone in her perfectly-manicured hand. "Is that her?" Niall asks, glancing into the café before stepping back out of sight again.
I nod, raking a hand through my hair, joining him just out of view. "That's her." Weirdly, I feel reluctant to tell him that; I guess a small, insecure part of me still believes that there's a chance of Niall getting a crush on her.
"Okay, well, I'll see you in a bit," he says, pulling me towards him and briefly kissing me. I can feel his smile. "Have fun, okay?"
"I'll try," I say, this time being the one to initiate our kiss. It's doesn't last long, but there's something about kissing Niall that fills me with confidence, and when I pull away, I feel a whole lot better. We exchange grins and I turn away, pushing on the large door and stepping into the café.
The overwhelming scent of coffee hits me and a small bell chimes throughout the crowded room. Cassidy glances up at the sound, catching my gaze, a huge grin spreading across her face. She drops her phone to the table with a clatter and leaps upwards, dashing across the room to throw her skinny bangle-covered arms around me, almost knocking over a waitress in the process. The weight of her body hits me hard and I stumble backwards, holding her tight to keep from falling over. She may be small and dainty, but she sure is strong.
"Hi! Anna! Oh my God, I've missed you so much! It feels like it's been ages! How are you?" Cassidy gushes, all the while clasping my hand tight, leading me to the small booth she's sitting in. I sink into the cracked leather seat, comforted by both its warmth and the promise of imminent coffee. Somehow, coffee always calms me down.
"I'm good, thanks," I tell her, smiling proudly because this time, it's true. "How about you?"
"Oh, I'm okay. Things are good, apart from the finding-out-my-boyfriend-is-a-lying-scumbag and dropping-my-university-course-and-simultaneously-losing-my-only-shot-at-a-good-future part," Cassidy says. And then she laughs. "But it's okay, right? Because now I'm back in Bournemouth with the best person ever." She cocks her head to one side. "I've missed you, Anna."
I mirror her frown. "I've missed you too, Cass." And it's true: I have missed having her around, despite her irritating little quirks and the way everything she does fills me with jealousy. At least, it used to.
All of a sudden, it's just like the old days, the days of lying sprawled out in the school field at lunchtime and strolling through town, milkshakes in hand, chatting carelessly about everything and anything. Cassidy starts ranting about why she dumped her boyfriend, which reminds me of when we were young, because growing up, Cassidy was always the one with boy-related drama to talk about, and it was never the other way round. She was the first to kiss a boy, the first to have a long-term boyfriend, the first to lose her virginity. I was always just the shy one, the listener, the one who'd give boy-advice and never ask for it back because boys were the last thing on her mind growing up.
As she speaks, I sit and admire her beauty. It's weird how things have changed: I used to get angry looking at her, filling with envy over her clear, porcelain skin and her cute little nose and her dimpled cheeks. Now, however, I'm somewhat appreciative of it. Like, wow, you're really beautiful. Good for you.
We talk so much that I almost forget to buy myself a drink; when I sit back down after doing so, Cassidy asks, "Anyway, enough about me. How's your love life? Any attractive boys to speak of?"
I'm just about to reply -- and gush about Niall in a sure attempt to make Cassidy jealous -- when something catches my old best friend's eye. She stares, lips pressed together, at something just past my left shoulder. Her voice lowers to an excited whisper. "Oh my God, don't look now, but there are two really hot boys behind you."
Sometimes, the universe works in such a way that you can't quite believe your own luck; things happen and people act in a manner that fits together like a jigsaw puzzle, so perfectly and beneficial to you that all you can do is sit back and grin foolishly to yourself, thankful that things have worked out this way. When I glance over my shoulder, and my gaze lands upon none other than Niall and Harry -- who smile and feign surprise at the sight of me, waving as they saunter over -- I realise that this just so happens to be one of those moments.
And they do look hot. Harry's black skinny jeans are tighter than mine, ripped at the knees, exposing a sliver of skin just above each shin. His unruly hair is pushed back beneath a beanie, his dimples apparent as he beams widely. And there, just behind him, is Niall. My Niall. He's dressed in dark skinny jeans and a casual t-shirt, his hair thick and soft-looking and a sweet, lazy grin drawn across his lips. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, the thumbs sticking out. His eyes are twinkling, locked with mine.
Smiling proudly, I turn back to Cassidy just in time to catch her stunned reaction. It's priceless: jaw dropped, blue eyes wide in a mixture of pure surprise and utter amazement. And in that moment, I know exactly what's going through her mind: boring old Anna Winters, who's always been a bit of a loser, is friends with the two hottest guys in this room? Woah. Okay, maybe not in those exact words. But I can tell she's shocked.
"Hey!" Niall and Harry say brightly, and I beam, waving at them. They hover over our table. "Who's this?" Harry questions, grinning in Cassidy's direction. No doubt Niall has already told him, but I'm thankful they're both playing the clueless-that-we'd-be-here role.
"This is Cassidy," I say, and she flips her golden hair over her shoulder in typical Cassidy-like fashion. "We were best friends, a long time ago. She's just moved back here, so we thought we'd meet up."
"Cool," Harry nods. "Hey, how about we join you?"
"Sure!" I exclaim a little too excitedly, before glancing at Cassidy. I know she wouldn't mind -- she'd practically jump at the chance of having two attractive lads join us for coffee -- but it's just a matter of manners. "Is that okay with you, Cass?"
She nods, her pink gloss-covered lips stretching out into a toothpaste-advert grin. "Yeah, that's fine!"
The boys grin and slide into the booth, Niall beside me and Harry opposite Niall, next to Cassidy. "Hey," Niall says quietly, just to me.
"Hey," I reply. He reaches down to my hand and holds it tight, before pressing a quick, chaste kiss to my cheek.
Harry gives us a stern look from across the table. "Seriously, you two need to get a room. I do love a bit of Nanna action, but if you keep it up, I think I might puke with jealousy." A teasing grin splits his mouth, a deep dimple appearing in each cheek. Niall and I laugh.
"Wait... are you two together?" Cassidy asks, and I smile somewhat triumphantly, turning to face her. Below the table, I gently squeeze Niall's hand, my thumb brushing ever-so-softly against his skin. I've been waiting for this moment for so long, and we both know it. I know it seems arrogant, but I've had to put up with meeting Cassidy's attractive, seemingly perfect boyfriends for so long; I've been waiting for the tables to turn, and they finally have.
"Cassidy, this is my boyfriend, Niall," I tell her, the words tasting good on my tongue. There's a long moment of silence; Cassidy smiles and nods in understanding, and Niall grins, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me in closer. I can't help but wish that Cassidy doesn't ask how long we've been together, because really, one week isn't that long. I know how I feel about Niall, and I know that our relationship is special, but I'm not sure anybody else would agree upon not knowing the depth of our relationship. After all, people seem to think that the quality of a relationship is measured in time, not in love or fondness.
Luckily, though, Cassidy doesn't ask that. She doesn't get the chance to. Harry interrupts, "And I'm Harry, by the way. Just to establish that. So, who wants a drink? Some cake?"
"I've got it sorted, Harry," Niall announces, proudly brandishing the ten-pound note I gave him earlier. After taking orders of various types of coffee and treats, the two stand up and head to the counter, grinning. Meanwhile, Cassidy slams her hands on the table and hisses, "Why didn't you tell me you had such a hot boyfriend? And his accent! He's Irish? Wow, Anna. Wow." She begins to applaud me, albeit quietly so the boys don't hear.
I grin, shrugging. And I'm about to tell her all about my first kiss with Niall, describing the perfect feel of his lips and how incredible his slender fingers felt on my body -- not because I particularly want to delve into all the details, but because she's done exactly that so many times with her various romantic endeavors, and I'd like her to have a taste of her own medicine -- when she interrupts: "So, what about Harry? Is he single?"
At first, I'm reluctant to tell her that yes, he's single, and yes, you're definitely attractive enough for him and yes, he would probably kill for a girl like you. After all, if she and Harry got together, things would never be the same again. I've enjoyed having the boys to myself, selfish as it seems; and, besides, I don't want Niall spending any more time with her than necessary. I know nothing would happen, as they both care about me, and I trust Niall to never be unfaithful. But I guess my paranoia is playing tricks with me again.
Cassidy's staring at me, waiting for an answer, and I realise that it would be foolish to lie (because I can't just avoid the question, can I?) as she'd probably find out anyway. I mean, let's face it, she's a pretty blonde girl and Harry's the flirtiest person I know. His state of being single is bound to slip its way into conversation at some point or another. Besides, what's the point in keeping them both from something that could make them genuinely happy?
So I dredge up a smile and beam at her, nodding. "Oh, yeah. Single and ready to mingle."
Leaning back in her chair and lifting her cappuccino to her glimmering lips, Cassidy simply smirks, satisfied.
●
Harry Styles and Cassidy Croft have arranged to go out next Friday night, and they've only known each other for an hour. Typical.
We go our separate ways, although Niall and I remain together, heading back to my house via bus, a routine we've grown accustomed to. The afternoon sun plays lazily in the sky, banishing the presence of clouds. It's been like this all week, which is surprising for England.
Niall says he found Harry browsing the clothes in Hollister, a shop he'd only gone into in the first place because the fact that it was so weirdly dark in there fascinated him, not because he could actually afford any of their apparel (Niall jokes that the only reason the shop itself was so badly-lit was because you can't actually see what you're buying, so you think you've bought a great top before walking outside into broad daylight and realising that your top is actually a piece of low-quality shit). Anyway, Niall told Harry about the Cassidy situation, and Niall promised Harry a free coffee if he tagged along, and he couldn't exactly say no, could he?
"Thank you, by the way," I tell Niall as we hop off the bus at the correct stop, which is a half-minute walk from my house. "I thought it was going to be absolutely unbearable, but with you guys there, it was actually pretty great. It made me feel like the popular one, not Cassidy."
"Just wait 'til she and Harry go on that date," Niall says, chuckling. "The second we walked in, I knew she was his type."
"I think 'incredibly beautiful' is everyone's type, Niall."
"Okay, that's true," Niall says as we round the corner that leads onto my street; hand still grasping mine, he twirls me round like a ballerina, eliminating the space between us as he adds: "That's why I like you so much."
"You're so-" I begin, but the rest of the sentence evaporates from my tongue when my gaze falls upon a sight so familiar and unnerving that it makes my heart tighten in my chest. Parked on the pavement just outside my house, gleaming beneath the hot afternoon sun, is a police car.
I break into a run, my hand flying to my mouth, shoes slapping the warm paving slabs beneath my feet. For a moment, the world slows down. Mum, I think to myself. What if something's happened to her? What if they've come to my house to tell me she's dead? What if the past is repeating itself?
All I know is fear. It sends icy fingers down my back, which even the warmth of this summer afternoon can't replace. The gate leading to the garden path swings open, whacking against the fence behind me. Seconds later I'm at the doorstep, pushing open the door, racing past the mirror I'd spent ages worriedly staring into just a couple hours ago. That all seems so futile now.
My mother is sitting upright on the sofa, hands in her lap, back straight. Opposite her, one police officer rests in the armchair and another in a wooden seat, dragged in from the kitchen. Mum looks at me, raking a shaky hand through her long, raven-black hair. "Anna, sit down. The police officers... they have some news."
The relief that my mother hasn't been brutally murdered is instantly washed away by anxiety as to what this news could be. "Wha... what is it?" I ask, my breath catching in my throat as I sit down on the sofa beside her, eyes locked with hers.
"Anna," my mother says quietly, just as Niall enters the room behind me, "the man who killed your father has been found and arrested."
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author's note [please read]: i really hope you guys enjoyed this. if you did, it would mean the world to me if you could vote for this story in CrissCrossDirection's 1D Watty Awards Season 4 for Best Niall. all you have to do is comment #12 on the correct chapter (i'll post the link in the external link thingy, and also in the comments so you can easily click it). please, guys. it would mean so so so much to me, i'm never entered in stuff like this and i worked so hard on this story and idk, it would just make me very very happy and show that all the hard work has paid off. it would also inspire me to update quicker ;))) but only vote if you think this story deserves it c:
vote? comment? i love you all so much! xxxxxx