The Fangirl // Horan [temporarily on hold]

Chapter 13

I still look like me, of course. I still have my white glasses and my curvy hips and the freckle on my chin.

But I don't look like me. With pink hair I was Charlie The Fangirl. With brown hair I'm just Charlotte Ross. My pink hair completed me.

Well, so did he.

And one or two missing puzzle pieces don't really matter, right?

***

"I can’t believe I'm saying this," Mina says from her bed, where she is lazily smoking (a cigarette, not a joint). "But I think I'm actually going to miss you, Ross."

It's the twenty first of December. Today I'm going home for Christmas. I was seriously considering just staying at UM and moping around Biko Hall, but I decided that my mother needs me. She's been through enough in the last few months.

So have I, but she doesn't know that.

I am kneeling on the floor of the dorm, all my belongings spread out around me. I am packing - or, trying to.

"Yeah, right," I say, trying to shove my One Direction teddy bear into my red suitcase (don't get me wrong, I still love the band - I just hate him). "God...damn...it!" I manage to get it in and slam the suitcase shut. "Huzzah!" I yell. Then I try to zip it up. It makes it about halfway around the suitcase before it gets stuck.

"Fuck!" I shout.

"Hang on," Mina rolls her eyes, then gets up from her bed. She jumps down and flops down right onto the suitcase.

"Why the actual fuck are you sitting on my suitcase?" I say, bewildered.

"To help you zip it up, idiot," she says. "Try now."

So I pull the zip as hard as I can, and to my delight, it zips up. "Yes!" I yell, leaping to my feet.

I dance around until Mina says, "Hey, Charlie?"

I turn to her. "What?"

"You do realise that you have another entire suitcase to pack, don't you?"

***

"Charlie!"

I rush up the driveway to where my mother is standing in the open doorway, arms wide. As I get close enough she engulfs me in the type of hug she has never given me before. A real motherly hug.

"Hey, Mom!" I say,smiling. "Miss me?"

"Of course I did," she shrieks. "Oh, let me look at you!"

She takes a step back and scrutinises me.

"What have you done to your hair?" she squeals. "You've gotten rid of that awful pink!"

I feel slightly offended, but I smile and say, "I felt like a change."

"It's a wonderful change!" She grabs my hand and pulls me indoors. "How was your journey? There weren't any problems with Graham, were there? Do you like college? Do you have friends? Do you like your classes?"

"Fine, no, sorta, no, some," I list off, answering all of her questions. I think I'm confusing her until she frowns.

"You don't like college?"

"Not really."

She smiles again. "Oh well!" she says. "It's only the next four years, anyway!"

Gee. Thanks, Mom.

"Anyway," she says, almost dragging me into the kitchen. "I have to talk to you."

She suddenly looks serious, folding her arms. I gulp. "Is it Dad?" I ask quietly.