The Lift (A One Direction Fanfiction)

Chapter Twelve

For just a moment, let's pretend my teenage life is a play. I'd like to say it's on Broadway but, alas, the budget won't accommodate for my high life expectations. I would say it's a production at some suburban high school. The props are cardboard and the microphones are visible.

So I'm going to roll with that analogy for a second. Everything that's happened the elevator incident until now was Act One. Niall admitting that he likes me (though not in so many words) would be those tension-filled words before intermission. They're as much of a game-changer as anything I've ever heard and if there was an audience they would need time to process this.

Straying away from this analogy, life doesn't always have intermissions that everyone can agree upon. In a play, the break is chosen by the directors or the writer of the production.

In the case of this conversation, it turns out I'm the director. I need an intermission.

I hang up.

I feel like a douchebag the moment I close my phone because it is an admittedly douche-like move but I can't think of what else to do. I stare at the wall opposite me for a few seconds.

I text Niall: "Sorry. Processing. Call you soon." -Erin

I shove my phone under my pillow and sit up straight, my back against the wall. I breathe in and out, gathering my thoughts. If I want to stay sane I must be organized about this. Going against everything I've ever thought about making decisions, I pull out an old notebook from under my bed and grab a pen from my bedside table. I make a T-chart on a page and write "Yes" and "No" on either side of the chart. I write the title: "In DeNiall?"

Even in a time of confusion I still manage to pipe out a not-cringe-worthy pun.

Okay. Let's think for a second. Do I like Niall or not?

I mean, I did when I hadn't met him yet and while I was in the elevator with him and even at those couple concerts. I still had that fangirl-ish affection for him. But I'm positive that's gone now. I haven't kept up to date with pictures of any of them since we met. I don't go on Twitter or Instagram much anymore for drama updates because I haven't needed to. I have direct access to the source and can find out what's true and what isn't. My friends who like One Direction agree with me since I dispel all the rumors back to them. All in all, I've been spending a lot less time in the drama section of the fandom. I've had more time to enjoy the better parts of it, such as fan art and stories, edited pictures and remixes. That's my favorite part of liking One Direction: since the fans are so dedicated and would do anything to get noticed by the boys, their imagination becomes more apparent to the world because they create in the hopes that the boys will see.

Anyway, I haven't thought about it much. Once Niall and I started developing an actual friendship I dismissed any romantic feelings for him.

But just because I've dismissed them does that mean they don't exist?

I put the clicker side of the pen in my mouth and leave it there, thinking about my situation. Do I like Niall, or am I going to convince myself that I do? Following a slight epiphany I turn the page and make another T-chart for the pros and cons to admitting I like Niall and then possibly dating him.

First, the yes or no chart. I stare at the chart for a few seconds before realizing that there's no point in filling it out. It's not like I can point out signs of my affection towards him as easily as I can do with other people. This is going to have to be done all in my scatterbrained mind. Cool. I scribble over the first chart.

Okay, I must think about this. When did I exit the fangirl phase and enter into friendship with Niall?

I think it was after he kissed me on the cheek at the second concert. I remember promising not to fall for him because he probably hands out kisses like a pedophile hands out candy.