The Pretenders (Niall Horan)

Chapter 9

Two weeks later, I still wanted to know more. I know I should be desperately trying to get over Will and trying not to think about him, but I just couldn't get over the fact that he lied to me. It was bad enough that he didn't tell me that he cheated on me, but then lied and said it was only a one off thing! But now we both know that what he said was complete crap.

On Saturday morning, I lay in bed being the lethargic person I am, not wanting to get out, despite the fact that there was a History assignment sitting on my desk, waiting to be completed. Just as I could feel my tired eyelids starting to close again, my phone rang. Making me jump in surprise. I reached across to my bedside table and grabbed my phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gracie."

"Hey, Rach."

"Are you alright?"

I sighed. "Rachel... You know how I feel about this breakup. You don't have to check up on me."

"I know you hate him, but have you even cried since you know... That day?" She asked.

"You can say it. It's not tabooed or anything," I said.

"I just... I just didn't want you to get upset..."

"What is with everyone saying that?! It's just a breakup. I broke up with him! Why is everyone treating me like I'm a fragile piece of China?! I wasn't the one who was dumped! He was!"

"Grace, I'm sorry..." Rachel trailed off.

I sighed, realising that I hurt my friend. "No, Rach. Don't apologise. I just needed to get that off my chest."

"As much you want to deny it, you're still hurt. Aren't you?"

"I hate to admit it but, yeah, I guess I am."

"I knew it! I'm quite good at getting things out of you. Anyway, I have the perfect breakup medicine."

"The Titanic and ice cream? When have you been so fond of clichés?" I asked, trying to wind her up - which I always found entertaining.

"Since I watched my first Disney Princess movie," she replied. "And no, not The Titanic." I could just imagine the smirk forming on face. "Retail therapy."

I grinned, she sure is a great friend. "Brilliant! What time can you pick me up?"

***

"Ooh! Calvin Klein!" Rachel exclaimed, grabbing my hand and dragging me towards the shop.

Personally, I think she only likes this store because she can pretend to be nonchalantly looking at clothes when she's actually checking out the posters of men in underwear that hung up on the walls around the store - and of course the jeans as well.

"I like this jumper! It matches my eyes!" She said, holding a knitted jumper against her.

"It's beige. How does it match your eyes?" I asked.

"I meant the C and the K," Rachel replied, indicating to the two letters embroidered in dark blue in the centre of the jumper.

I rolled my eyes and turned to look at the selection of jeans behind me. "Sure."

"Nah. I was joking. But I know who it would suit."

"And who might that be?"

"You!"

The thing about shopping with Rachel was that it is really difficult to reject an item of clothing that she suggests for you as she has an extremely good taste in clothes and knows her shit about what suits who.