During The X Factor (One Direction)

Chapter 11 - Caught

The door flies open and Zayn barges in.

“Liam? You in here– Oh…” he stops in the doorway when he sees us together.

We had sprung apart the moment we heard the door handle creaking, and are now sat at either end of the couch. It’s like an invisible Mr Blobby decided to squeeze into the gap between us and now we are glued to the sides of the couch, like our lives depended on it.

Which might be the case, if Harry ever finds out about this…

“Er…” Zayn is struggling to find the right words, but he seems to be doing better than Liam or me, “Did I…interrupt something?” I’m not looking at him, but I can tell he’s smirking.

Liam and I are both sat here, our faces the colour of beetroot, and not uttering a word. I can’t keep still, so I keep fidgeting with my shoes and t-shirt, or twirling my hair around my finger and flicking my fringe in front of my face.

I see Zayn’s shoes make their way across the floor, and he stands right by Liam.

“Liam…” he teases, playfully prodding him in the stomach.

He doesn’t have the chance to say much more, because Niall zooms through the crack in the door and halts in the middle of the floor, shouting like he’s just hopped off a very fast roundabout and hasn’t quite remembered how to walk and talk yet.

“Zayn! Liam!” he pants, pointing at the boys in turn. He sighs and looks relieved, but only for a second or two. His eyes swing towards me, shoved in the corner, and something immediately clicks when he sees mine and Liam’s matching purple faces.

Niall gasps loudly, and I jump when he does. He stutters a little, so Zayn stands by his side and speaks for him,

“Is there something going on here…” he muses, still smirking.

I immediately shout ‘No!’ but Liam doesn’t answer, and instead tries to hide behind his arm.

“Ooh…that is not good…” Niall mumbles, constantly twisting his head around to check behind him.

He looks at Zayn with a look of pure panic and worry, but Zayn just smiles at him, and then they both start laughing at us. I turn to see Liam is smiling, too, and that just throws me off the edge.

I wasn’t going to sit there and them laugh at me, so I rose from the couch and marched from the room whilst the three boys were still doubled over from laughing.

Could they get more immature? This is serious! …still, I can feel a smile trying to push it’s way past my frown.

At the door, I have to stop to remember where I actually am. All of my thoughts have become muddled up, so for a moment I thought left was right and up was down.

I peer down the corridor, and see a big wooden door. That sounds familiar…perhaps I should go that way?

Just then, I hear voices. It’s not Liam, Niall or Zayn I can hear, because the voices are coming from the other end of the corridor. I don’t know why I decide to twist my head around, but I do, and I wish I hadn’t.

Looking right at me is Louis, who has just emerged from a door on the left, with Harry. They’re stood quite far from me; it is a very long corridor.

Only Louis has seen me, so I think of making a mad dash for the wooden door only a few feet from me. But then I see Louis tap Harry’s shoulder

I can’t exactly say that when he saw me his face dropped, because he was looking extremely miserable before that. When he noticed me, however, he looked a lot angrier.

His glare turned cold and I can feel my blood freezing in my veins. His eyes swept over me, looking me up and down. You’d think I was a piece of dirt on his shoe by the way he looks at me; utterly disgusted by my presence.

Before I saw this, I was unable to move a muscle, but I knew I had to now. I pretty much ran for the door, forcing it open and sprinting down the hallway to God-knows where.

It was the only thing I could do to stop Harry from seeing me cry.

-

“No, mum, I’m fine, just a little sick…” I explain to my mum, who isn’t having a word of it. She’s launched herself into nurse-mode, whipping out some medicine and a cold flannel.

“You don’t look ‘fine’, Charity!” she answers, feeling my forehead with the back of her hand. Even after several years of attempting to pull a sickie before school, I still don’t know what that’s meant to do, she always decides on the same thing: ‘You still have to go to school!’

She takes her hand away and looks me over, “I don’t think you should go into college tomorrow, love…”

I’m a little bit shocked that she’s actually letting me miss college, something she had never allowed before, but I’m also thrilled. If I go into college tomorrow, it would mean having to face my friends.

They’d be full of questions, especially Lizzy and Beth. Lizzy never stops talking, and she’d be eager to know absolutely every little detail of my trip to see the show, just like she did last time I went. Beth always wants to know everything about Louis, she’s so obsessed, it’s scary. She keeps asking for his number –which I do have– but I’m not giving it to her!

The weird thing is, I don’t even feel unwell.

Gemma found me in the bathroom not long after I left the corridor, leaning against a sink and looking pale. She had almost screamed, so I had to quickly calm her down and tell her I was fine. However, she didn’t believe me either.

She took me back to the rest of our little crowd and both Harry’s mum and mine went mental, fussing over me like I was a baby.

I told them that I just felt really dizzy, and my stomach was hurting, which was true. My head was spinning, still not sure which way was down, which sent my stomach into a mad rage. I just felt really…bad.

Anyway, I fell asleep once we got on the train, and everyone was convinced that I was really poorly. When I woke up, about half an hour before we were due to arrive back home, I really did feel better.

I barely remembered a thing, though. The last few hours of my life were a bit of a blur to me…that was until, someone said his name.

“Chaz! You’re awake!” Gemma was whispering over her chair in front of me. “Your phone’s been buzzing, by the way,” she says, pointing at the BlackBerry in my hand, a little red light flashing away. “Could be from Harry.” She adds, before turning away and sitting down again.

I nearly drop my phone when I remember. Tears leak from my eyes, and I can feel myself turning pale again. Without hesitation I check my messages: two from Liam.

The first one reads, Hi, I’m really sorry about that thing with Niall and Zayn…hope you’re okay about it? Talk to you soon xx

At this, I smile; glad to know he isn’t angry with me. But then I read part of his next message, and my heart sinks to the bottom of the sea, By the way, Harry is in a really bad mood, and he won’t tell any of us why. We’re really worried.   

I just slump into my seat, hoping to drift off again.

I’m looking at it now, just as I’m falling asleep. Mum left my room not long ago, but didn’t take her stupid flannel with her. It keeps sliding over my eyes; I swear it’s more annoying than my fringe.  

I roll my thumb over the track pad of my phone, highlighting his words over and over. I re-read them, but it doesn’t make any difference. There’s no way I’m going to reply to him. I need a bit more time to think.