Be My Mascot

Chapter 69

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Chapter 69

Bailey's POV

DECEMBER

Two months went by in an impossible flash.

Day after day ticked by and with it came Autumn leaves and blistery winds. The first snowfall of the year occurred on a Wednesday, covering the cold ground with a thick blanket of pure white snow. The following day was what I like to call my "Birthday Eve."

The first week of December, the 6th to be exact, is my birthday. My twenty-second birthday this year.

It's crazy, really, how fast this year has flown by. It feels like just yesterday I was on the volleyball team with Aubrey at Manchester.

God, I miss her. We text every once in a while, but she's incredibly busy with school. There hasn't really been much time to chat or plan a weekend to visit.

I've been keeping my empty schedule partially filled by setting up dates that I need to have particular materials for my classes starting after holiday break. I ordered a few textbooks online a week ago and they finally arrived yesterday afternoon.

I stand over the packed stove in the kitchen, thinking just about everything going on in my life right now.

Surprisingly or not, I'm still with Niall. There's a bond connecting us two that cannot be separated no matter what happens.

Every so often when I'm laying in bed I think about that day that Niall pushed me in the bakery and what my life would be like if I had just walked away from him and never looked back. I've come to the conclusion that I wouldn't last long without him. It's occurred before, yet I always manage to crawl back to his arms.

And that's what it's always going to be like, I believe. No matter how stupid and cowardly it appeals, that's just what will happen.

But I know he loves me with everything he's got. That's one of the biggest reasons why I accepted Niall's multiple apologizes. He loves me and that day was a huge accident and the regret behind his eyes for weeks was killing me. The ring has yet to leave my hand.

My head has since healed and with it the pain and reminders of that day.

Later after, I had sent Harry one single, long text saying how sorry I am about what happened and how I care for him as a friend no matter what he did to me and how this is now my final goodbye until I miraculously run into him on the streets or something crazy like that.

Once that was sent, I deleted Harry's number for good.

During the time of that and anxiously planning for the start of the second semester creeping around the corner, Niall has been actively engaged in his sport. He's played in every game they've attended except one because he was sick that weekend.

Every night when Niall strides right through the flat lugging his training bag behind him I can see the happiness and content behind his blue eyes.

This is what he's always wanted to do and he's achieved any goals he's ever set as a child.

He's proud, I'm proud, his parents are proud, and it seems as if every Liverpool fan who watches him on the telly each weekend is just as proud as all of us. Niall has gained the media's attention with his slick moves across the pitch and stealing balls to successfully score into the opponet's net. People know his name and I know he adores it.

I stir the boiling soup in the crock, applying a few more seasonings after taste-testing the meal. I'm retrieving two bowls from the cabinet when I hear the jingling of keys in the door. He strides through, closing the door behind him and drops his gear bag on the ground by his shoes.