Daytona Baby [N.H]

20

Olivia Campbell

The second I woke up, I immediately wished I hadn't. My head was throbbing and even in the darkness of the bunk the small trace of light around the closed window was enough to make me squint. I don't usually get motion sickness, but the slight jostling movements of the bus were threatening to flip my stomach inside out.

Liam and I were up pretty late last night after napping half the day away. Naturally, we got a bunch of booze and drank well into the early hours of the morning, along with a shared joint that is contributing to this groggy feeling I have now. We only got maybe three hours of sleep before we needed to get to the bus, and honestly, I'm not even sure how Liam managed to get me here.

The other half of the small bed is empty so I assume Liam is in the lounge with everyone else. Perhaps he's taking the aftermath of last night better than I am. He does this nearly every night, I'm sure. It's a constant cycle of soundcheck, show, party, then do it all over again in the next city. I'll be ready to go again by tonight, hopefully. I wouldn't want to put a dent in Liam's routine.

And it's nice to forget sometimes.

I've officially shoved all worries of my parents to the back of my mind for now. At least that's what I tell myself. I needed to make room for all the thoughts running around in my head about Niall and what exactly we're doing, words playing over and over and over until I have every conversation memorized. The way he smiled, took my hand, looked at me, kissed me.

The way he lashed out the second I showed an ounce of care for him.

The pounding in my head was starting to become too much, so I slowly rose from the bunk, careful not to get a head rush, and made my way down the hall to the bathroom. I dug through the drawers until I found a bottle of Tylenol, popping two in my mouth and sticking my head under the tap to wash them down.

When I lifted my head, I jumped slightly at the sight of Niall in the mirror behind me. I didn't hear him come in. But what startled me the most was his face—dark bruising under his eyes, bottom lip split in two different places, a cut across the bridge of his nose and multiple other gashes on his cheeks and forehead that had been stitched up.

I couldn't suppress the pain in my chest at seeing him like this. I'm sure that's why they wouldn't let me into his room yesterday. If he looks this bad now, I can't imagine how gruesome it would've been after it happened, whatever that was. I refuse to believe Liam that he got into a bar fight in the middle of the afternoon. Not that it would be far fetched for Niall to be at a bar at that time, but the way they were both so off about it makes me believe something bigger is going on behind the scenes.

Something more serious than I originally thought.

"We have to stop meeting like this..." Niall finally spoke, flirty grin plastered to his beaten face. I turned around to face him properly, standing my ground, not giving in to his charm. I'm not going to let him get flirty with me after treating me like shit yesterday. He thinks he can just act like that and then assume I'm going to let it go the next day, which isn't happening.

"Yeah, we do." I said coldly, not giving him any ounce of my usual banter. I took two quick strides to the door but Niall stepped in front of me, blocking the way.

"Where you going?" He taunted, his playful smirk that I normally can't get enough of now mocking me.

"Back to bed. Move." I'm growing more impatient with him by the second. My head is still throbbing and I just feel like shit, completely fed up with his behaviour, currently.

"Oh, is that an invite?" His eyes raked up and down my body. He's really pushing his fucking luck today.

"You can't snap at me and then expect me to fuck you like nothing happened!" I raised my voice slightly in frustration, finally unleashing what's been eating away at me and having absolutely no patience nor the energy for his antics right now.