how you get the boy

eighteen

Given what had happened in the past 24 hours, it's not a surprise that I found it impossible to focus on anything else other than my mess of a life. Receiving a text message from Louis' friend earlier this morning, telling me not to worry as Louis was with him, should've given me a peace of mind. But it didn't, leaving me to fret over something that was beyond my control.

The worse part was that I had no one but myself to blame because if I hadn't so much as gotten myself involved with Harry and Louis, this wouldn't be happening. I wouldn't be staring at my professor's face, trying my hardest to understand every single word that he spoke. He caught me staring a couple of times and each time he did, I'd shoot him a sheepish smile before I proceeded to pretending as if I had a clue as to what he was talking about.

It was pointless sitting in this class because my mind was somewhere else despite my body being here. Which explained why as soon as class was over, I was the first one to leave the room, shoving everything into my tote bag and avoiding any sorts of eye contact with my classmates.

They must have noticed the dark circles under my eyes, a result from sleeping at 5 in the morning, because some of them shot me a sympathetic smile. As if they knew exactly what was going on in my life. They didn't and I'd like for it to remain that way so I kept my head down and left the lecture hall.

As it was, Niall was already waiting for me outside, question that I knew was coming fled from his mouth the second his eyes landed on me.

"What the hell happened?" Niall questioned as he slung his arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer to his side so no one could hear our conversation. I appreciated his effort, really I did, but him smothering me was the last thing I needed.

I pushed him away and ignored the offended look written all over his face. "Who the hell knows?"

"Shit, Tee, both Harry and Louis have bruises on their faces," he reminded me, giving me a pointed look, as though it was even close to possible for me to forget all about it. "You can't say you don't know anything 'bout it."

I frowned, suddenly hit by the realisation that Niall wasn't even around when this happened. So, I asked, "How'd you know?"

"Didn't take a genius to figure it out, y'know," he told me as he scoffed and tapped his head, "Harry came to class with a bruise on his face and Louis wore bloody shades in the library, but I noticed it – the bruise. S'hard not to."

Of course Niall noticed it. He noticed everything, which was why sometimes I wished I didn't know him, wished he had at least come with a warning. Like 'warning: this bloke might know everything about you or anyone you associated with' because for someone who preferred to keep things to herself, having a bloke like Niall tailing me around and prodding at my life wasn't helping. As a matter of fact, I couldn't remember the last time I was able to keep a secret from Niall for longer than a week.

"This is bad, Tee, do you know that?" He added, an attempt to keep the conversation going. Niall Horan hated it when people ignored him.

My shoulders slumped forward, guilt splashing across my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe, let alone to think straight. Even though I was very much aware of how badly things had gotten, having someone else pointed out my own mess made me feel helpless. Made me feel like I was sinking to the bottom of a pool and right now I was sinking deeper and deeper.

"I know, Ni," I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair, an exasperated groan threatening to escape my throat. "I know I fucked up."

"Well, I didn't exactly say you fucked up," he shrugged, grinning when I shot him a glare, "but you still can fix it, y'know. 'm bad at this, but I think they deserve an explanation or summat."