Little Things

Chapter 22

I sob one last time and then grab toilet paper from the dispenser and wipe my eyes, trying to wipe away my mascara smudges so I don't look like a complete raccoon. I make do with my lack of makeup remover and try my best to remove all the smeared blackness circling my eyes. 

Once the black is gone, I take a good look at myself in the mirror.

"at least a bit pretty,".

The girl's words ring through my head, and I can't erase the image of her face as she looked me up and down.

In the mirror in front of me, I see a girl, around five foot three, with brown hair. No highlights, never been dyed, just plain brown. Nothing special. I see boring brown eyes that are bloodshot and puffy from my crying, and stubby eye lashes, that still aren't long even with mascara lengthening. I see a pink flush around her nose from too many tissues. I see natural redness in her cheeks, imperfect eyebrows, and a few freckles randomly placed. I see a girl who isn't skinny, with a little extra weight she could lose. I see a girl without a thigh gap. A girl with chubby fingers, scarred knees from childhood play, and big feet. I see a girl with many faults, a girl who isn't anywhere near pretty. 

I see just a girl, without anything to her.

A girl who is stupid, naive, callow, and immature. 

A girl who has put her heart before her mind the past few days, just setting up the walls around her to crumble.

I rip my ponytail out and run my fingers through it, trying to make it look at least a bit presentable. It frizzes a little, and the waves make it look unappealing, but I decide that it's better than being up. I scramble through my purse, whipping out a lipgloss, the only makeup I keep in it. I suck in my stomach, and tremble with my flannel shirt, trying to look at least presentable.

I let out a single sob, disgusted at my image, but quickly swipe away the tear.

There's a single knock on the door, but before another can follow, I whip it open, looking at the floor so I don't have to make eye contact. 

"So that's where you went! We were just looking for you," a voice says, and I connect it as Niall's since I am still staring at the floor. 

"Oh," I mumble and silently pray that he moves away from the door so I can walk out without him questioning me.

"Did you order your icecream yet?"

"N-no," my voice cracks, and my cover blows.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks and gentely places three fingers under my chin, lifting it up.

His eyes droop at the sight, and I guess it's obvious that I was crying. If only my eyes weren't so red and puffy.

"What happened? Why are you so upset? Was it something I said? Did Harry say something?" he questions, his voice soft and concerned at first but shifting to anger.

"No, no. It's nothing, I'm fine."

"No you aren't, Allyson. Tell me what's wrong," he demands and my lip quivers.

"I mean, you don't have to tell me, I'm not going to force you to tell me anything, but I want to help. That's all I want to do, is help, but I can't unless you tell me why you are upset."

I shrug and he moves his hand from my chin to both his arms around my waist as he pulls me into a hug. My damaged heart starts to warm again by the warmth he seems to always radiate off.

"I-I'm just moody I guess," I say, my lip trembling even more. I hope he can't tell I'm lying, because I've always been a terrible liar.

"I don't believe that for a second, but I'm not going to interrogate you all day because it's obvious you don't want to talk about it. C'mon, let's go get some icecream," he suggests, whispering into my ear that hides behind my hair.

I nod and he lets me go, but grabs onto my hand. I hope he doesn't think I'm some emotionally and mentally damaged sob story that is like this all the time. 

Because I'm not.

Well, at least not all the time.

As he guides me through the front of the shop again, my head rotates around looking for any sight of the blonde girl, but I see that all of the fans have left, and Harry and Morgan sit at a round table, licking away at their desserts.

Harry waves us over, and Morgan eyes me, and she frowns, but it quickly vanishes, just like Niall, into fury.

Morgan is my best friend, for as long as I can remember. And being the outgoing one, she is also extremely protective of me, including my feelings, emotions and heart.

Growing up, she would always stick up for me, and make sure whoever gave me a hard time paid for it. But that's just exactly why I love her.

I give her a small smile that she doesn't accept, and she looks away and says something to Harry I can't hear.

I walk up to the counter and order a black raspberry with chocolate jimmies, and Niall tells the employee he wants whatever I have, too. 

"You said I could pay for icecream the other night, and we never got it, so I will pay for it now," I assure him and he continues to take out his wallet.

"Not happening," he says, and I push his hand away from taking money out.

"Please?" I beg.

"Nope," and I give up trying too, because I know no matter how much I plead he won't give in. Especially since I am in this state.

Once our icecreams are made and paid for, we join Morgan and Harry.

Niall starts up a conversation about a time him and his band mates went out to icecream and one of them asked for every single flavor, and they ended up getting kicked out.

I want to laugh at this story with the rest of them, but I can't. I zone out for half of the story, with the girl's words still ringing through my head. 

I start to think of ways I can make myself look better, minus any plastic surgery. I would never go that far, no matter how ugly I believe myself to be. But maybe if I scrap around some extra money, I can buy some better makeup, and maybe a few new outfits. And maybe if I start to eat healthier and work out again, I will lose some weight. Or maybe if I don't eat at all...

I want to throw out my icecream and continue on that thought, but my love of food reminds me that that idea is way out of play.

"Al?" Morgan says to me, her eyebrows knit together.

"What?" I ask.

"I just asked about three times if you were done with your icecream," she says, a concerned anger in her tone.

I snap back to reality and nod my head, taking a few last large bites and then throwing out the small extra left, and wiping my sticky hands on my napkin.

"All done," I confirm as I walk back to the table as they all rise from their chairs. 

I walk towards the doors, and Morgan grabs my arm and holds me back from the boys.

"What's up with you?" Morgan asks. Other people would assume she is pissed off, but really I know she is only pissed off because she wants me to be happy, and at whoever made me this way.

"Nothing," I shrug.

"Nothing my ass," she rolls her eyes and I shake her off.

"I swear, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Exactly what I'm trying to figure out," she snaps and I walk towards the door, because Harry and Niall are waiting awkwardly outside.

"Let's just get them back to their hotel," I tell her and she nods.

"Fine. But we are talking about this later."