In Love With a 1D Fangirl

Part 1

Colin jolted in his seat, bumping the table and knocking a pencil to the floor. He felt his cheeks grow warm to the sound of several people laughing.

"Ah, Colin, thank you for blessing me with your attention. Now, can you please tell me what Whitman was talking about in his poem 'Oh Captain! My Captain!'?" Ms. Walton loomed above him, peering over her glasses. He swallowed hard and tried to avoid eye contact.

"Um... Well, he's... He's talking about his captain?" More laughter erupted.

"Astounding. That may have been the least insightful answer a student has given yet. I suggest, Colin, that you spend less time letting your mind wander away when it is needed here. Now, as for Mr. Whitman, he was lamenting the death of Abraham Lincoln..." Ms. Walton turned around and resumed lecturing the class. Her voice softened into nothing as Colin's attention returned back to his original focus.

She had her shoulder length, brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her almond brown eyes glanced nervously from the phone in her lap to Ms. Walton patrolling the room. Colin tried to take in each feature in it's fullest detail. The size of her nose, fullness of her lips, the way she kept her chin tucked so it appeared she was paying attention while it really made it easier for her to watch for incoming texts. Her name was Zowie Mathers, and her every move captivated Colin like a toddler with a complex toy.

A balled up piece of paper bounced off his head and landed on his desk. Making sure Ms. Walton wasn't looking his way, he unwadded the projectile. 'Knock it off!' was all it said. He turned around to find the thrower and saw Mitch staring at him. His friend's eyes widened and he shook his head curtly. "Dude," he whispered.

Colin furrowed his brow. "What?" he mouthed. Mitch averted his eyes and began writing in his notebook.

"Colin! Enlighten us, please. What is it, exactly, that commands your attention better than the words of one of America's greatest poets?" Ms. Walton had snuck up on him. Taking a moment to finally pick his pencil off the ground, he saw Zowie turn to join the rest of the class in gawking at him.

"Nothing, Ms. Walton. I was just... getting my pencil. Can't take notes without it." He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. When the class laughed, he strained to hear her voice amongst the crowd. He didn't think he did. He hoped.

"I see. When was Walt Whitman born? Surely you have that in your copious notes. But what's this? Does your pencil use invisible ink? This page is blank. I've had enough, Colin. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon in detention." Ms. Walton walked away, silencing laughter with each student she passed.

"Yes, Ms. Walton." Colin slumped back into seat, his face radiating heat. He didn't take his eyes off his desk for the remainder of class.

Dismissal couldn't arrive fast enough. The moment class ended, Colin jumped out of his seat and hurried out of the room. He needed to get away from there. If a restroom had been closer by he would have hidden in it. Instead, he was forced to settle for getting lost in the swarm of other students pouring into the hallway. Becoming just another anonymous face in the crowd comforted him.

A hand fell on his shoulder as he weaved through the crowd. "Dude, wait up!"

Colin jerked free and kept walking. "Come on, man. Slow down."

"No." He knew Mitch wasn't going to leave him alone so easily, but it was worth a shot.

"I just want to talk. I'm sorry about Ms. Walton." Colin changed his course to his locker. He slammed it open without a word.

"Dude, you've really got to cut back on the staring. It's creepy. She's gonna notice at some point and next thing you know it'll be a restraining order. Your tongue was practically hanging out to the side." Mitch's face peered around the locker door. With his hair buzzed and lean, angular features, even his natural expression made him appear angry.

"Whatever. Besides, she's too hot not to look at. I can't help it." Colin ran a hand through his hair, brushing shaggy brown locks out of his eyes.

"Well, you'd better start helping it. That's all I'm saying. It's not healthy." The locker door slammed shut.

"Thank you, so much, for your concern," Colin rolled his eyes, "But I've got to get to...something I need to do."

She was walking his way, heading to Algebra. It had been two weeks since she had used this route to go to class, but Colin knew Zowie had been fighting with Alexia and must be trying to avoid her at all cost.

"What?" Mitch's face scrunched up in confusion as he turned around, "Aw, come on. No. Dude, this is a bad idea." Colin brushed right past him.

He felt his heartbeat increase and he was sure that anyone could hear it beating. With each step his stomach became more knotted and queasy. Everything slowed down, each lilting bounce of her hair as she walked took an eternity. He had already taken the leap, and now he would have to see it through.

"Hey, Zowie." She almost walked passed him before she realized someone had said her name. He could feel his face heating up.

"Yeah? What's up?" She faced him, eyebrows furrowed, eyes glancing side to side.

"Hi. Not much. I, uh, I just had... a question, you know?" Colin shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. His legs had gone numb and he was no longer sure how he was still standing.

"Yeah? Well, hurry up. If I'm late again, I get detention." She cocked a hip to the side and continued looking around.

Sirens blared in Colin's skull. He tried to wet his lips but his mouth was too dry. He wanted to run, to hide. He wished he was anywhere else but standing right in front of Zowie.

Somehow, his mouth remained unaffected by the paralysis of the moment. "I was thinking... wondering, really, if maybe you'd like to catch a movie Friday night."

"Aw, that's so sweet," she smiled like someone had just presented her with a puppy, "But, is your name Niall Horan?"

"No." Oh, God, she doesn't even know who I am!

"Zayn Malik?"

"No."

"Liam Payne?"

Colin merely shook his head. He knew if he spoke the lump in his throat would shift, allowing sobs to escape.

"Harry Styles or Louis Tomlinson?" Colin just stared at her and she frowned. "Then I'm afraid I have to say no. I'm saving myself for them. Sorry, Corry." She ruffled his hair and walked away.

Words flooded Colin's mind but none escaped his mouth. So many emotions bombarded him, he didn't know whether to collapse, cry, get angry, or laugh.

"Dude... ouch. You OK?" Mitch placed a hand on Colin's shoulder.

"Colin? Come on, man. We all crash and burn. Let's go. You've already got detention once this week. No need to add to it by being late." Mitch tugged at him, urging him down the hall.

"She's a fangirl. A One Direction fangirl. How the Hell do I compete with that?" Colin stared forward, unblinking, moving only at Mitch's pulling.

"What?"

"One Direction." They were the only words Colin would say, in various tones, for the rest of the afternoon.