Still Yours

3 / Taking Care

DAY 14 WITH NIALL / DAY 39 WITHOUT NIALL / DAY 18 WITH NIALL

... in which it's time for a change. And change requires courage. Laney pulls herself together and shares her not so dirty little secret with her best friend and personal drill instructor Bonnie. Turns out it's harder than expected to admit that she might be seriously crushing on Niall. It's not like he's just any boy. D-thing-ing him comes with a responsibility Laney's afraid of not being capable of taking. But he's irresistible. And Laney knows there's no turning back when he takes her to a lonely part of London to offer her something she can impossibly decline...

I'm still watching us on the screen, but Niall turned to me. I know what happens when I turn my head, too. I'm shaking like crazy. It's up to me, like he said it. And it's not like I don't want it. God, I want it so bad. This is the sugary sweet redemption I've been hopelessly longing for. My teenage dream coming to life in all colours of the rainbow, under a sparkling sky on a warm evening in July. This is both relief and torture. I'm so needy and I want more, more, more.

***

DAY 14 WITH NIALL

"Get the fuck up!"

Bonnie always shouts on the phone. She usually sounds like a concerned mother that's worried her daughter doesn't eat enough fruit on her class trip, but this morning, she's all drill instructor Winslow: My pushy, loud, demanding best friend. I can picture her standing there, in the minimalistic kitchen of her designer flat, flushed face from her morning run, still in her neon coloured workout clothes.

"I am up.", I lie.

The vibration of my phone on the matress woke me. I thought it was Niall. When I saw Bonnie's name on the screen, all the suppressed guilt I felt for avoiding her over the past two weeks caught up on me and I contemplated not picking up. Again.

I've spent the past days trying to come up with a believable excuse as to why I've been ignoring her, even though I knew it was useless to try and trick Bonnie. She knows me too well. She can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes, though, she pretends she doesn't.

When I say "I'm tired" and I mean "I'm sad", she tells me to go to bed and gives me the space that I need. When I say "Okay" but I really mean "No", she suddenly changes her mind and keeps me from getting into any potentially uncomfortable situation. She takes care of me. Like I take care of her. Despite her temper, despite the obvious differences betwenn the two of us, Bonnie and I make a perfect match. We can count on each other. I love her to bits.

I couldn't swipe and turn her down again. I knew I had to pull myself together and face my fear of admitting that the reason I kept her at distance with "I'm too tired"s and "I'm not feeling good"s , as well as short, unpersonal texts, was a boy.

A very certain boy.

A boy like a sizzling flame in my head, a constant thought like a mirage, his face all blurry. He shines on my mind like the reflection of the sun on a dusty mirror in August, he's an electric prickle in my veins and a tight, heavy knot in my stomach. I feel like I'm possessed by a demon. A lovely, comforting, angel-faced demon that makes my poor heart race and my legs get weak whenever he talks to me. I feel like screaming and flouncing and dancing whenever I think of him. And I think of him all the time.