Summer Love

Chapter 1

"Honey, are you sure you'll be okay?" Mom asked.

"Mom, I'm 16 years old. I think I can handle being home alone for a few hours," I said.

The first time my parents finally let me stay home alone was when I was 13. They're usually busy, so the words 'home alone' came up often, but they still worried about me. They treated my brother differently, though. Sure, my brother was a couple years older than me, but that didn't mean that they should treat me like a baby. It didn't make a difference either.

"Okay. We'll definitely be home by noon," Mom said to me. "I can't believe my baby boy is going to his first college interview!"

"Mom..." Justin blushed.

I laughed. Actually, I was on the same page as Mom on that one. It seemed like it was only yesterday when Justin and I would fight over the remote control. My best friend, Lara, has an annoying and obnoxious older brother. She sometimes hated him, and he sometimes hated her. Not me and Justin. It was kinda odd, but Justin and I loved each other. Of course we would fight sometimes, brothers and sisters are like that, but we never once hated each other.

As soon as they left, I made myself breakfast. I debated wether or not to call my dad so he knows I'm home alone and all, but he was really busy with his movie and such. I started feeling a little hot, so I cranked up the cool air a bit. I took a shower and got dressed in my long sleeve shirt and yoga pants, then went to the living room to watch TV. About an hour has passed when I noticed that it was almost 11:30 am.

They will be home soon, I thought. My eyes wandered to my arms.

No, stop, What are you doing? But I couldn't help myself. I pulled up my sleeve, and there they were. Lying on my arm. I carefully traced my finger over the scars. I was a week clean, which made sense because school ended. The reason why I loved my brother so much was because he stood up for me in school when I got...bullied. Why was it such a big deal for me that people bullied me? I wasn't one of those popular, curvy, skinny, 'drop dead gorgeous' girls. I was just an average 16 year old junior girl who had bright blue-green eyes and naturally straight dark brown layered hair. Justin, on the other hand, wasn't just an 'average 18 year old senior guy'. He was tall and sporty, which girls liked. And he had blonde hair and blue eyes, which girls adored. I sometimes wished that I got my mom's blonde hair, instead of my dad's boring brown hair.

I heard the phone ring, so I went to the kitchen and answered it.

"Maddy?" Dad said.

"Hello?"

"I'm coming home to get you." My dad's voice was steady, and I could feel that something was wrong.

"Huh? Why? Aren't you busy with your movie or something?" I sometimes hated my dad. My mom told me that my dad cheated on her several times. She told me that he hurt her emotionally and physically a lot of times. Dad wasn't very family oriented. He focused too much on his work, and he didn't have time for us. Having a dad as a director can be a blessing and a curse. Mom was a nurse, but she always had time for her husband and two kids. Nurses were always busy, so I admired her for having time for her family.

"Um...music video. I'm doing music videos now, too, remember?" Oh yeah. I forgot about that. "Anyways, we're going to the hospital."

My mind was spinning. The hospital? That couldn't be too good. I wanted to yell at my dad for not telling me everything. He was taking it step by step, I could tell.

"Oh my gosh, would you please just tell me why already?" I asked harshly.

"Well..." He started, taken aback. I waited impatiently. "I'm going to make this quick, okay?"

When I didn't answer he sighed and said,

"As you know, Justin and your mother went to his college interview. Um, there might have been a drunk truck driver on the freeway, hit your mom's car and..."

A knock on my bedroom door pulls me back into reality. Have I been flash-backing, again? Ugh. My door opens to reveal my dad. I don't want him to see that I'm crying because the last time he was saw me, he got furious. He told me that he lost his wife and son too, but he wasn't crying and moping all day. He told me to move on. I wanted to slap him for saying that. Move on? It's only been a year. He would be more affected if he actually cared for Mom and Justin.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" My dad comes over without waiting for an answer and sits on my bed. I hold my breath and put a pillow over my face.

"I'm directing another music video," he says. Is that what he wanted to to tell me? Is that what he came in my room for?

"Great," I say flatly under my pillow.

"I thought you would like to know that it's a um... One Direction music video. Since you're such a big... What do they call the fans of-, ah yes, directioner. I thought that you might wanted to come with me? Tomorrow is my first day."

Is he kidding right now? Does he actually think that I'm a directioner? No. Lara is, not me. Jealously fills me up when I realize that my dad knows Lara better than me. I don't listen to One Direction, or Justin Bieber, or any of those crap. I listen to real music. Well, actually I listen to sad music all the time.

"Um... I'm not a directioner dad, sorry," I say. I sit up and push the pillow out of my face and rub my eyes before he could see the tears.

"Oh, I thought you were," he says, surprised. No, you're wrong, You don't know anything about me.

"I really thought that you were so I told them that you were coming," he continues. I bite my tongue. I want to throw a pillow at him for not knowing his own daughter well enough and for making the decisions for me.

"I can't back down now. They think you're a big fan and the boys can't wait to meet you. I'm sorry." I almost choke on his last words. I guess I don't have a choice here, as always.

"Fine," I spit out.

He smiles and I want to rip that smile off of his face.

"Great. Be ready by 9 in the morning tomorrow. Wear something nice." And with that, he finally leaves.

Wear something nice. What's that supposed to mean? I dismiss this thought and I grab my iPhone 5. I click on an app that says 'Instagram' and check my notifications. 83 new comments, 2.3k likes, and 971 new followers. I check my profile and I smile, for real this time. 100k followers. I'm speechless. I find a photo in my camera roll to upload and I find one.

My dad is making me go to his stupid job tomorrow. Someone help me. On the brighter note, I reached 100k followers and most of you know that this has always been my dream ever since I created my account last year. I honestly don't know how I gained 100k in a year. Thank you to everyone and I love you! As soon as I finish typing the caption, I add some cute emojis before I hit share. I turn off my phone and stare at the ceiling. I hate my life. Two of my loved ones aren't here, I live with my annoying dad, and I'm afraid to go back to school, which starts in about 3 months. What did I ever do to deserve this? I think about getting my razor and blades, but I know that I'm stronger than that. Plus, 95% of my followers wouldn't want me to. It's ironic to think that most of my followers who I haven't met know and care for me better than my dad.

I don't even know if I should tell Lara or not. She'll most likely see my Instagram post, but I wasn't being specific so I doubt she'll find out. I decided to tell her tomorrow morning. She should be going to this stupid thing tomorrow instead of me. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be really hard for me. I don't want to pretend that I love the boys. I just want to be me. Other girls would probably do anything to be in my shoes for tomorrow, but I think of my past and I quickly dismiss my thought.

I feel lame that I don't even know who's who. Zayn Malik has black hair and has a lot of tattoos, Liam Payne is the one that looks really humble, Niall Horan is the blonde Irish boy. Louis Tomlinson is the one who..um. Okay, I need to some research. I know I'm missing someone... Harry Styles. That gorgeous boy who has tattoos, curly brown hair, and- what am I doing?

Harry Styles is the boy who has curly brown hair with tattoos, I correct myself.

Did I just call him "gorgeous"? I shiver. I put my phone away and head back under my covers where I will sleep and forget about all of this.