Right Place, Right Time

Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

It was almost 1am when the taxi dropped me off at home, and to my surprise my mum, who is not a night owl, was in the lounge, nursing a cup of tea and watching re-runs of Friends.

"Well, how did it go?" she asked, switching off the TV. "I can't believe you got to go to the concert and hang out with One Direction! OMG Emma!"

Despite feeling on the verge of tears, I managed a weak smile. My mum trying to speak like a teenager cracked me up.

"Yeah, I know," I said, dropping my bag on the floor. "OMG."

"Come and tell me all about it," she said, patting the sofa next to her. "I've been dying to hear how it went." Then she narrowed her eyes for a moment as she looked at me.

"Where did that shirt come from?" she asked.

"Harry Styles," I said, sitting next to her and tucking my feet underneath me. "It's his. He gave it to me."

"Really? Harry Styles gave you his shirt? That was nice of him."

"Yeah, he was nice." I tried to sound enthusiastic but my voice came out flat. I was no good at putting on a brave face in front of my mum.

"Em? What's wrong? I thought you'd be all excited."

"I was, I mean I am. I just spent the day with Harry Styles and One Direction; I should be doing cartwheels of joy. It's just..."

I took a deep breath. "It's just that I got it into my stupid head that Harry liked me and..."

"Really?" interrupted Mum. "As in liked you?"

I nodded.

"What made you think that?" she asked.

I told her everything, from all the nice things he'd said about me, and the intense looks he gave me all afternoon, through to the long chat we'd had sitting on the stage. I explained how he got me up on stage to sing to me, and then danced with me at the party.

"And the whole time, it was like we just kind of clicked, and I thought that there was this mutual attraction thing happening. Turns out I was wrong," I said, my voice catching.

"Are you sure you didn't get the wrong idea in the first place?" asked Mum gently. "No offense love, I'm not saying he wouldn't be interested in you, of course he would. He's a bloke and you're beautiful - if I had a pound for every time I've been told that since you were born we'd be living in a villa in the south of France. But could you have read the situation wrong? Isn't Harry known for being a big flirt?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that's the reputation he has but I was sure he genuinely liked me. Even his sister said she thought he liked me, because he did things like give me his shirt and take me on a guided tour of the stage before the show.

"And Louis even said it looked like the two of us should get a room."

"Oh really?" Mum's eyebrows shot up. "What were you doing for him to think that?"

"Nothing rude Mum, don't panic." I decided not to tell her about the hip thrusting on the dance floor.

"It was after he got me up on stage to sing to me. We kind of stood there just looking at each other, while he sang and it was..." my voice faltered at the memory, "... it was lovely. I was sure there was something happening."

I sighed. "And then it all turned to crap."

I told her about Jacinta, and how Harry had made a beeline for her without a second look at me. "It was as if I didn't exist. He completely ignored me."

I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. One slid down my cheek, quickly followed by another. I went to speak, and a sob came out instead.

"Oh sweetheart," said Mum, pulling me into her arms and rocking me like she used to when I was little. "Don't cry over him, he's not worth it. He's obviously a complete fucking wanker."