No Control (Book 1)

22. Gotta Be You

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My eyes widened and my heart practically leapt out of my chest. I re-read the tweet about ten times, and stared at the picture. Was this aimed at me? I was trying very hard not to be a crazy obsessed psycho but come on - a picture of a shirt with drink spilt on it, a reference to other ruined shirts that week, and a reference to the song that finally seduced me? What the hell was going on?

I quickly took a screen shot of the tweet (which already had 8000 retweets and 6000 favourites) and sent it to Callie. Her response was instant:

From: Callie: OMFG. Is this for real?

To: Callie: What do I do?

From: Callie: Retweet?

Definitely not. That was the last thing on my mind.

To: Callie: Attention-seeking 

From: Callie: So???? Harry Styles tweeted about you!!!

To: Callie: Don't know that for sure x

From: Callie: You fucking do.

I tapped my phone against my chin, debating my next move. Retweeting it was bound to set my followers off, and they had calmed down since I had ignored them. Callie had been right. I looked at the tweet again. My thumb hovered over the 'Favourite' button, then I wimped out and closed Twitter.

I got my stuff ready for work the next day, got into bed and switched the light out. I couldn't think about these things right at that moment, it was too much pressure.

When I woke up in the morning, I didn't even look at my phone. I got ready for work and headed out of my flat and towards the tube, stopping for a Gingerbread Latte to drink on the train. I was slightly earlier than usual so the train was less crowded and I managed to get a seat for the last few stops. I walked into my office just after 8am and sat down at my desk. I took my phone out, ignoring the 7 texts from Callie, opened Twitter and went straight to Harry's tweet from the night before. He hadn't tweeted anything else, but the tweet now had 40,000 retweets and 38,000 favourites. I quickly tapped 'Favourite' and the little star turned yellow. I closed Twitter, dropped my phone in my desk drawer, opened my laptop and began to work.

I barely looked up when Gary came and sat on the edge of my desk and tried to tell me One Direction were splitting up (he tells me this about once a week). I smiled a brief acknowledgement to Sarah when she brought me a cup of tea at 9.30, but stuck my head straight down again and carried on assessing my reports. It was 11.55am before I put my pink One Direction pen down and stretched in my chair.

"Oh, welcome to the land of the living!" Gary called from his desk across the room.

"Hi," I smiled.

"What's been up with you his morning?" he asked. "You haven't even looked up once."

"Clearly you have too much time on your hands if you can tell me I haven't looked up from my work once," I teased.

Gary didn't have an answer to that. "What are you doing for lunch?" he asked.

"I need to go out and get something," I said. "Why, do you fancy joining me?"

"Yeah go on then,," he replied, pushing his chair back and standing up.

"K, lemme just grab my phone," I muttered, reaching into my drawer and grabbing it. I threw it into my bag, stood up and followed Gary out of the door, through reception and down the steps onto the street. We walked along the pavement, heading to the M&S Food shop on the high street.