I Wish

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Five

~Ayley's Point Of View~

     A million girls surrounded the van as I got out. People who I swear I'd seen once, maybe twice before, suffocated me with their hellos. I couldn't see the outer layer of the crowd. Niall was still in the van. I was afraid that he would get claustrophobic like I was starting to feel.

"Ayley!" A girl whose name I thought was Lindsey approached me.

"Hey." I smiled.

"Hey, I was in your English class last year!" She said.

"Yea! Lindsey, right?"

"Yea!"

"How are you?"

"Oh my gosh, you know who I am." She was breathing heavy.

"Of course." I smiled.

     After Lindsey, several other girls came up to me and told me what classes they'd had with me over the past three years of high school. I recognized all their faces and could names to most of them. Niall stayed in the van.

     My friends and I helped clear a path and we led Niall onto a makeshift stage. He wanted to sing. We brought my pink guitar for him to play. He stood on stage in front of a crowd of about 300 screaming fangirls. I waited for him to speak.

"Hey." He said.

Every person in the crowd exploded with cheers.

"So tomorrow, the boys and I are starting our tour and today is my last day here so I thought I'd do a free concert." He smiled.

The crowd cheered.

"So I'm gonna do my best to perform some songs for you guys by myself and hopefully it won't suck too bad." He laughed.

     He sang every song off their album and did a couple covers. Even alone, the songs sounded perfect. I melted every time I heard Niall's voice. He sang every song beautifully even though he was missing 80% of his band. He was beautiful. He called me up on stage.

"I'm not singing." I said.

"Yes you are." He argued.

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Please?"

"No way."

"For me?"

"No."

"Come on."

"I'm not doing it."

"I'll sing with you."

"No."

"Please?"

"Niall, I said no."

"And I don't believe that's really what you want to do!"

I looked at him as we stood on stage arguing.

"Please?" He whispered. "If you sing with me?"

"I know these people." I said.

"And?"

"And some of them aren't here because they're fans."

"Why are they here then?"

"They're here to judge you and I. To make fun of us."

"Who?"

     I looked out into the crowd and found a group of boys who went to my school who would do anything just to make fun of me or something I loved. They were low-life scumbags who lived for making other people miserable.