chapter nineteen.

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Today’s our last day in Dublin. You know where I am if you need me.

-Niall

PS since we’re leaving tomorrow and I don’t know if we’ll ever encounter a washing machine again, I’d suggest doing laundry

Rosaleen slipped Niall’s note into the front pocket of her backpack before dumping her clothes out. Niall had a good point; she really needed some clean clothes. She figured she might as well wash his too so she retrieved his backpack from the corner of the room and pulled out his crumpled clothes. When she tugged the last tee-shirt free something else fell out with it. It was a CD case, with a blank CD inside. Or at least it looked blank. Rosaleen grabbed Niall’s cousin’s laptop that they had been using for the last week and popped the CD into the drive. A few notes filled the room and Rosaleen knew she had heard the song before but she couldn’t quite place it. She listened for a few more seconds before it dawned on her; it was the song she and Niall had slow danced to. When it ended, nothing else played and Rosaleen put the CD back in his backpack. Why on earth did he have a CD with just one song on it? Was it coincidence that it was the song they had happened to dance to or was it that song for a reason?

Rosaleen put their clothes in the washer then went back to the computer, ready to send CiCi an email. That’s when she noticed CiCi was online.

CiCi! I miss you!!!

AHHHHHH!! OMG me too!!!

How’s LA?

Ah-mazing! Tony (the sexy boy in the pic I sent you) is such a babe.

Are you guys together?

Yes, he’s like the perfect boyfriend. Speaking of perfect boyfriends how’s the Irish hottie?

He’s not my boyfriend, but he’s good I guess.

What do you mean ‘I guess’?

We had a run in with Kayleigh yesterday at the airport.

Cat fight?

Kinda. I just pretty much admitted that Niall was perfect and might have insinuated that I had a crush on him but I don’t think he picked up on it.

So you really like him?

Yeah, he’s amazing.

Tell him.

What? Tell him I like him? Are you insane?

That’s what happened with me and Tony. I just admitted I liked him and it turned out he liked me back.

I’m not you Ci, I’d be too scared that he would laugh in my face or something.

Then make a list. You like lists. One side would be things that indicate he doesn’t like you (flirting with other girls, etc) and the other would be things showing that he does like you (unnecessary compliments, stuff like that). Oh, Rosaleen I got to go. Love you and miss you babe.

Love you too Ci.

CiCi logged out and Rosaleen was left staring at her last advice. Make a list, okay she could do that. She flipped over the paper Niall had written the contract on and drew a line down the middle of the page.

“Doesn’t like me,” she murmured as she put the heading at the top of the left column. Then she moved to the right one, “Does like me.”

When she was done the list looked like so.

Doesn’t like me

·         Talking to the pretty, black haired girl in the lobby

Does like me

·         Bought me a dress

·         Gave me a cute nickname

·         Calls me pretty and gorgeous all the time

·         Has a CD with the song we danced to on it

·         Told me I was the amazing one yesterday

·         Is taking me on an adventure around Ireland

·         Was willing to give up something he does every weekend to watch movies with me

·         Said he wished I held his hand longer the other day

·         Told me I make him nervous

·         Looked upset when that guy was flirting with me outside the pub

·         Told me I didn’t have to be scared of anything because he would protect me (the rose and thorn thing too)

·         Said I deserve someone who will treat me like I’m the only girl in the universe

Looking at the list, Rosaleen had to admit it did seem like he liked her. But instead of feeling happy, she crumbled the list up and tossed it in the trash. Becoming more than friends would just make things complicated, at least right now. They had the whole rest of the summer to fall in love.

And if they did, well, Rosaleen wouldn’t be complaining one bit.

every rose has its thorns. // niall horanWhere stories live. Discover now