Ninas London (One Direction fanfic)

Chapter 36

Feedback is a wattpad girl's best friend :) - Nina

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"I already saw this one," I mumble, flipping past the Friends episode. Almost six hours later and still nothing good on TV. I know I'm in London and I could be doing something productive, but I don't feel like it. I'm pretty much broke, confused, and depressed. Confused because I don't know whether to go back to the Marriott, room 328, again. Depressed because I don't know if I even want to go back.

I realize Harry knows the truth by now. I'm fully aware that hates himself for doing what he did to me. But the wounds, his words, are all still too fresh. Seeing his face would just trigger the emotions I felt an hour ago, believing he truly hated me with all his gut. I can't go back, I can't see him again, no matter how many times Caitlin urges me to. So here I am, flipping through channels in my hotel room, accepting the fact that Harry and I might not see each other before I leave in two days. That we may never speak again.

"I could put foot cream in her jar of face cream," Caitlin jokes, adding to her list of revenge against Phoebe. She's dwindled past the options of stabbing her in the night with a fork, or tying her down and hair-drying her face for an hour. She hates her even more than I do, eager for vengeance for ruining my vacation. But now she's just trying desperately make me smile, something I haven't done for hours.

I smile at her reference to my favorite movie. "All we'd do us make Phoebe's face smell like a foot," I giggle. Caitlin laughs back.

"We could feed her Kälteen bars! Or not send her a candy cane! Stomp on her, Caesar! Stomp on Brutus!!"

"Stooop!" I plead, full-on laughing now. It feels good to smile, after leaving snot rags all over the hotel floor for an hour. After hearing Harry on the phone cursing himself, Eleanor was almost ratted out and hung up when Louis noticed that she had "left her phone on in her purse." I had heard enough; that Harry probably didn't want to face me again, and that oddly, I didn't either. I don't know what we would say, or if I could even forgive him, for starters.

Caitlin's laughter subsides as mine does. "Nina, I don't like seeing you like this," she murmurs. "I feel like she personally victimized you." She smiles, but I don't.

"The whole world still thinks I betrayed them," I say softly. "Think of all the Sugarscape and Huffington Post articles. All saying that I tweeted out the numbers of the five most popular boys in the world. Think of what our friends back at home think! My brother's always on the Internet, he'll find out!" My phone buzzes for the millionth time, but I reach over and stuff it under my pillow. Just another mention saying "what came with the numbers ;)" or "Ninarry broken up for sure by now. Yes." Ninarry. Gross, right. That's the best this fandom could do with our couples name. Little do they know that we were never a couple in the first place. Or that we never will be.

"Tell them you didn't do it, maybe?" Caitlin suggests, almost with sarcasm.

"Like they'll believe me," I reply, "and like Phoebe will ever own up to it." I shrug, still unaware of what should happen. I'll try to tweet out the truth, but if Phoebe denies me I'll just look like a poseur AND a traitor. I just need a plan, something to convince the rest of the world that I'm innocent.

Caitlin is silent and I lay there, flipping to USA and an old rerun of NCIS. The terrified faces of high school students fill the screen, watching as a psychotic boy locks themselves inside a classroom and reveals the dynamite strapped to his torso. Boring. I turn off the TV, expecting silence to finally fill the room and let me sleep. But it doesn't.