Accidentally in Love // z.m

Sixteen

It's 6:44 pm and I've been stuck in traffic for 48 minutes. On my birthday. I actually turned off the engine at one point because I was standing for so long. It's 6:45 pm why the fuck is there people on the road when it's not even peak hour? I'll tell you why because it's my birthday and God likes to screw me over for his own entertainment. The number of times I've thrown my hands into the air before hitting the steering wheel in frustration over waiting for another train to take its sweet ass time driving through the railway crossing has left my hands with red stinging marks. Then my phone began ringing in the depths of my handbag and after I scurried for it and pulled it out, the caller I.D made me completely forget about the frustrating traffic I was in. India’s name lit up on my screen and for a second I was so in shock that I almost forgot to answer it. “Hello.” I said with a slight shake in my voice from the nerves/excitement. Isn’t it sad that I’m nervous to talk to my best friend? I was so used to her just ignoring me now that I forgot she even had my number. “Sahara, are you still at work?”

“No."

“How far away are you? I left my phone charger there.”

“Like 20 minutes away but in this traffic 3 hours away.” I said bluntly as I realised she only called me because she needed me and not because she was going to forgive me.

“Alright.” And then she hung up. Just like that.

“UGH!” I exclaimed in frustration as I threw my phone in the general direction of my bag. God I never knew it was possible to have so much hate for someone I used to care about so much. If the roles were reversed I would have forgiven her by now, why was it taking her so long? Or was I being stupid hoping that she actually would forgive me at all? I hadn’t realised that I’d entered a deep daydream as the hate I began having for my ex-best friend began bubbling inside of me until the car behind me beeped loudly. After a mild jump, I turned my car back on and began slowly moving forward. Eventually I arrived home with a dangerous attitude and a strong hunger. I didn’t even try to smile at Roderick who stood holding the door for me as I entered my apartment building. He nodded at me, knowing well enough to keep quiet when I’m in such an annoyed state and I stalked past him to the elevator, forcefully pressing the number 9 button and heading up to my floor. I couldn’t wait to make myself a giant bowl of cereal and eat it in bed with my laptop, spending the rest of my birthday in peace. I remember how I'd pictured my 19th birthday whilst we were on tour with the boys. I had been dying to try the Alain Ducasse restaurant in London, purely because it was classy and French, my two favourite things in the world. I wanted to have dinner there, just us, just the people I actually cared about and the people who actually cared about me. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen. No one cared about me, but I didn’t care about them either so apart of me was ok with that. I sulked out of the elevator, turning and pushing the front door of my empty apartment, cursing under my breath for forgetting to lock the door once again. As I flicked on the light and turned the corner the room erupted with people and noise.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAHARA!” I gasped in shock as I recognized the faces that had just scared me to death. Niall, Liam, Louis, Harry, Zayn and India. The 6 of them with wide smiles on their faces as though the past week of torture and separation had never occurred. They were all also dressed in suits and India in a stunning red cocktail dress but I was too shocked to even ask why as I stood frozen for a moment, registering what in fact was reality. Then I decided that surprising me on my birthday, which was all well and sweet, was not enough to make up for the treatment they’d given me in the past with. So with that I folded my arms and greased them all off, dropping my bag besides my feet for effect. “That wasn’t the response we were hoping for.” I heard Louis murmur before glaring at him and he raised his hands in defence.  

“Do you guys really think you can just waltz into my apartment and act like you haven’t been ignoring me for a whole week?”

“Five days actually.” Louis mumbled once again.