Trouble. (niall horan au)

Chapter 8 - braid attempt

By the time the clock struck three that night, I had been fired from my job, grounded for eternity, and now had a standing record with the police for disorderly conduct and lying to the hospital.

After the cops had rushed in and yanked me away, I was met by my mom in a flurry in the siting room. Her brief tears for me were soon replaced by anger as she yelled about the fact I hadn't told an adult for help.

"Who even is that boy?" she fumed repeatedly, "And why the hell are you hanging around him?"

That was a question, that I had no answer to. I really had no idea why or how. But I did know that it was his fault I had to testify to the police, explain he was not guilty, and ride home in awkward silence with my mon while wallowing in my own shame.

His fault I got fired for creating too much "trouble" since his big mouth had to stay such stupid things. It was his fault when I was getting ready for school a day later (I had skipped the day after the incident) that I stood at the door and recieved a text from my saying there was rumor going around that Niall and I got arrested for drugs. So I pulled out the back of my phone, dropped my backpack, and stayed home.

I also decided I hated him. Hated him quite a bit. With that stupid arrogance and smile and lilac hair. I did a lot of hating on that day off.

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I stumbled down the stairs still clad in my pajamas, rubbing my half shut eyes sleepily. Padding into the kitchen I began to scour the cabinets for a suitable breakfast. School would have to wait again, I decided silently, taking three days off wouldn't kill me. I'd just have to call in sick pretending to be my mom.

With a box of cereal in hand I paused, ears straining to listen to the quiet sounds of the TV playing from the living room. It shouldn't be on unless my mom is home and she's at work at this time. If she knew I was skipping, I'd be screwed.

"Damn it," I muttered, thinking my plan was foiled as I set down the box down and tiptoed towards the sounds.

Quietly, I paused outside the entrance into the living room and peeked my head in, eyes immediatly widening in surprise at the body stretched out across the couch. It isn't a common thing, I suppose, to wake up and find a boy that you currently having a burning hatred for sprawled across your furniture and channel surfing.

"Niall."

The lilac head of hair sat up at the sound of his name and twisted around, smiling once he saw me. "Good morning, Abbey. I was thinking-"

"Go fuck yourself," I spat back, more angry at the sight of him then shocked.

Niall's thin lips tipped up on one side, "Only if you'll help me."

I groaned, running a hand through my messy bedhead and tugging on the ends. Not even bothering to ask how he managed to get inside, I pointed towards the door and commanded, "Whatever the hell you're doing here, I need you to leave. Now."

"I sense some anger directed at me," Niall observed, taking in my flushed cheeks.

"Gee," I replied with faux cheerfulness, "Who would've thought? You're ruining my life."

"Ah, I get that a lot."

Aggravated by his condescending tone of voice and cocky smile, I grabbed a pillow off the couch and threw it at him. He caught it easily and let it drop to the floor. "Whoa, calm down."

I looked for something that could inflict more damage and pulled a book from the shelf. It flew out him, but he easily sidestepped out of the way, letting it hit the back wall and fall to the ground in a flutter of open pages.