The Fangirl // Horan [temporarily on hold]

Chapter 14

A/N: Look, I got a new cover! I really love this one, so this one will be permanent. Of course, the car on the front is Graham.

Guess what!!!!! Tonight I'm going to see 1D in Croke Park!!!!!! Agghhhghgh asdfghjkl I can't even. This is their last night in Croke Park and I've literally been crying and spazzing all day. Just give me two seconds to fangirl:

OH MY GOD WHAT IS THIS LIFE LIKE WHAT IS AIR ASDFGHJKL WOIFMRJMHICG,FIHV,SF I JUST CANT EVEN JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I WILL SEE THEM LIKE ACTUALLY SEE THEM OH MY GOD

Okay, I'm done. Now, on with the chapter:

Of course.

Of fucking course.

My mother wants to watch (of all movies) The Notebook. I've never seen it but I know it's romantic, and I refuse to watch anything romantic.

And obviously, my mother doesn't understand. "Why not, Char?" she asks. "This is my favourite movie."

"Mom." I try to get her to understand. "Movie. Notebook. Romantic."

She frowns.

I groan. "Mom. Niall. Romantic. Our. Relationship. Is. Dead. No. Romance."

She goes, "Ooohhh," like she's just got it (which she probably has) and then gets a weird smile on her face, but she won't listen when I ask why. She just nods and acts like she knows something I don't.

Fucking mothers.

We have to watch The Notebook anyway, but I don't hear any of it since my hands are over my ears the whole time. And then, halfway into it I leave the room, and go upstairs. My favourite fanfiction has just been updated and I have to read it. Obviously that's why I left. Not because of the movie.

My room has been decorated with fairy lights and plastic holly. Because guess what?

It's Christmas Eve.

God, I hate Christmas.

Fucking Christmas.

All the fucking happiness.

Fuck it all.

So I stay in my room for a while (you know, about five hours), reading. Well, I read for an hour then just lie on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I even have posters on my ceiling.

Of...them.

I don't mind the faces of Harry, Liam, Louis and Zayn. But him...

I keep staring and staring. He's so much better-looking in real life. I stare until I can't take it and then I stand up on my bed, and rip the poster down. Just the one of him. I shove it under my bed, and bury my face in my pillow.

At about six, my mom calls me down for dinner. She always makes the best dinner on Christmas Eve. Usually there's a special Slurpee for my dessert, but I explained the whole Slurpee thing to her so I hope she remembers.

For dinner we eat chicken, roast potatoes, broccoli and Brussels sprouts (I don't eat any sprouts). Then for dessert (miraculously) Mom says we're going to make ice cream sundaes. Yes.

I pile strawberry, vanilla and honeycomb ice cream into a sundae glass (my three favourite flavours) and squirt strawberry sauce all over it. My mom adds a large chocolate flake when I'm not looking. Then we take our glasses into the living room, along with long plastic spoons.

My mom has changed so much since my dad left. Last year, if I brought so much as an Oreo into the living room, I'd be yelled at. Now we're both eating ice cream on the fancy leather sofas. She even lets me watch Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets on the large TV. Surprisingly, my mother loves Dobby.