My Saviour (Louis Tomlinson)

Chapter 9

Chapter 9 [Warning: Unedited]

**

My phone is blaring with Joanne's ringtone and it's so early in the morning that I don't even want to check the time.

"What?" I groan.

"Guess what's today?"

"Tuesday?" I question.

"No,"  She drawled, "I mean yeah but no."

"I don't know," I give up, on the verge of falling back asleep.

"Casey! Today is the last day of you being seventeen!" She cheers.

"Really? That's why you called at...four am? Because it's my last day as a seventeen year old? You couldn't have just waited till you pick up?"

"No! This is a big deal."

"Big deal how? I understand if you called me tomorrow. But today?"

"Oh stop being such a buzzkill. Anyway go back to sleep, I'll see you in a bit."

I just don't understand what's going on in that little head of hers sometimes.

I fall back asleep and in what felt like five minutes, the alarm screamed and woke me up. Oh screw you world.

Begrudgingly I take a shower and blow dry my hair and put it in a high ponytail.

I wear a white tank top with short floral shorts and flats. I put my usual makeup and walked outside only to be greeted by Joanne. 

"Hi!" She squealed.

"Could you please not act like it's my birthday?"

"I'm not, tomorrow I'll be worse," She grinned evilly. I roll my eyes and sit at the passenger seat of the car.

At school Joanne wouldn't leave me out of her sight. 

The day was highly uneventful until of course Joanne wanted me to go shopping.

"I am not."

"But tomorrow we're going out for dinner and you have to look nice," she whines.

"No." I say sternly.

"Oh shut up, your only ride back is with me, and I am taking you shopping!"

Just when I thought the world couldn't get any crueler.

We went from shop to shop and I liked nothing. 

RIght now, I am sitting on one of the stools while Joanne searches frantically for a dress.

Finally she finds one and I would be lying if I said I didn't like it.

Joanne hands over the cash, "Nuh-uh, you are not buying that for me. I'll buy it myself."

"Consider it your early birthday gift."

"Only if you don't get anything for me tomorrow."

"Deal,"

"Fine."

**

It's eleven at night and I am dreading tomorrow.

I hate birthdays and the attention I get. It just seems so...I don't know fake?

I'm on the brink of falling asleep when I get a call. 11:30.

"Joanne! Couldn't you have let me sleep for half an hour more?"

"Then what kind of friend would I be? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if someone wished you before me," she says dramatically.