Gotta Be You

Callie is a normal fifteen year old, who like many dream of meeting British/Irish boyband sensation One Direction. But when her clueless father and evil step-mother force her to come on a 'bonding' holiday in the sunny island of Fiji, Callie gets caught up in a whirlwind of excitement when she learns that the 5 members of 1D are staying in her resort. As she experiences romance, friendship, betrayal and facing the past, Callie learns that sometimes it doesn't just take One Thing to have the best summer ever, but maybe five...


9. Save You Tonight


"So, where should we go tonight?" Harry said, leaning in and kissing my cheek. I smiled at him. He made me feel so wanted, so special. Harry asked me out two days ago, after the IPod incident. Note to self: do not listen to someones iPod without checking they're songs, not waxing tutorials. The thought of what I did made me cringe.
We've gone on two dates so far, one to the bonfire beach spot and one to a cafe in a little village near the resort. Both were so nice, and Harry was a perfect gentleman all evening. We were currently sitting on the sand in front of the beach-house, our hands entwined on the warm golden grains of sand.
"The smoothie bar?"
Harry shook his head quickly.
"Nah, too crowded"
I glanced at him, holding back a laugh. What was he going to do, propose?
"What about the restaurant at the resort, The Chammarie?"
The Chammarie was one of the swankiest restaurants I'd ever seen, and I only got a glimpse of it. It had crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, it's beads of light reflecting on the marble pillars and the marble floor below. It had fancy, Victorian chairs with cushioned padding seated around tables made completely of glass. It was an interior designer's dream modern room, and a photographer's nightmare. The room spoke for itself, it didn't need any artistic view or creative touch. This made the room quite commercial, and for me, I would have preferred a dark, dusty old treehouse, with lots of mystery and character. Now that would be a shot.
"So, how about it?"
I looked up at Harry's hopeful face.
"Is it not a bit too..."
I stopped mid-sentence. I was about to ask if money was an issue, but I guess that's kind of like asking Angelina Jolie if she's ever heard of adoption. Or something like that.
"Sure, okay" I nodded. It would be fun, getting to experience 'the posh life'. Maybe we can laugh and mock all the snobby people in there, like me and the girls did back in this hotel we were staying at for a school tour in Dublin.
"I better go" Harry said, glancing at his watch.
"Where?" We both got up and I brushed the sand off my shorts.
"I'm helping Liam with business stuff, he just won't take a break!"
We agreed to meet there at 7:30, and I departed back into the beach house with a kiss still glistening on my cheek. Dad and Vivienne had gone to the local market in town, so I felt a bit lonely in the house on my own. I decided to hit the pool, so I grabbed my towel, camera and magazine. I strolled along the beach to the resort, taking a few snaps along the way, when I saw Niall. I waved. He ignored me. How odd was that?
"Niall!" I yelled, waving my hand frantically in the air. He glanced nervously at me as I approached him.
"Er, hi..."
What was going on? This wasn't the bundle of enthusiasm I usually knew...
"What's wrong?"
He looked down guiltily at his shoes. He seemed to regain his cool, because he smiled at me a moment later.
"Nothing, think the ol' sun is getting to me!"
I nodded, I felt a bit lightheaded myself.
"Wanna join me for a swim?" I asked, motioning towards the pool.
"Nah, thanks anyway. Liam and Lou are at the market thing, so me and Zayn are doing some brotherly bonding"
I laughed. Niall swiftly left the pool area. Poor boy, he seemed quite sick actually. But something he said didn't fit. Niall lied for some reason, and I was going to find out why.
I laid my camera and magazine on the sun lounger and dipped my toe into the pool. It was cold, besides the fact the sun was beaming a thousand shiny rays on to the waters surface. I looked across at the people sunbathing across from me. It was the young European couple. The man was dozing off underneath his cap, while his partner was flicking through her magazine with an intense speed. I sigh. Without the boys, it was kind of lonely. We're about 5 days into the holiday now, and already they've become my friends. I'm not stupid though. I don't love them, and they haven't become my best friends over 5 days. But they're fun, and this is a holiday, right?
I decided to give up my attempt at getting into the pool, and retreated to the good ol' sunbed. I opened my issue of KISS and flick to the pic 'n' mix page, a page where readers send in their photos and if chosen, appear in the magazine. I've sent about a million pictures, but none of them get in. I sigh, and flick back to the front. In big bold capital letters the head line read:


British pop sensation One Direction have taken time off their hectic schedules to relax in an unknown holiday destination. The secret has been kept for the sake of the boys privacy, but KISS has exclusive inside information hinting to the boys whereabouts. A close source reveals: It's a very up market resort, celebs from all over the world have stayed here, including Simon Cowell himself." Our source couldn't give us the name of the resort yet, but promises to keep us updated with new info. But the main question still goes unanswered, where is One Direction?

I secretly thanked Vivienne for digging her bony elbow into me when I was texting the location to Luce. If she hadn't, who knows how many people Luce would have told. Not that Luce is untrustworthy, it's just she's just as obsessed as everyone else. Kind of an impossible secret to keep.

“Here, girlie”

I looked up from my magazine to see a teenage boy blocking the sunlight raging down on us.


He had a smug expression on his face and was one of ‘those guys’. He reminded me of Dan Summers, a complete ass who goes to Kilshannon. He goes out with loads of girls and then dumps them, and goes out with their friends. Jerk.

“My friend over there asked me to go out with you”
“Did he” I said in a deadpan tone, flicking another page of the magazine. God boys were pigs.
“Yeah he did”

There was an awkward silence where the boy impatiently waited for me to respond.


“So, what?”
“Are you going to go out with me?”

“You haven’t asked me yet!”

“Eff this” He said, but of course an articulate boy like himself did not say eff. He stalked back to his friends, who were jeering at his fail. Oh no, it seems I have blown it. And he was such a rare gem.

A couple of minutes later, after the lads persuaded him to try again, he came back over.

“Will you go out with me?”

“Okay, look…”
“She said yes!” He yelled to his friends, who whooped and high-fived each other. “Sorry princess, but I don’t want to go out with you. It was just a dare”


“Look, girl” He interrupted. “You’re not bad looking, but you seem well-clever, saying all that shit and stuff” He smirked. “To be honest, I prefer my ones dumb, know what I mean?”

He stalked back to his friends, who were cheering for his conquest.

I just sat there, flabbergasted. What the hell just happened? Then, after the initial shock of the speed of that conversation, I retained my wits. I collected my things and walked over to the sun-bed area they were all sitting by.

“She’s back for more, lads” He said, laughing along with the rest of them. His friends were all looking up at me, grinning at how effing hilarious this all was. Well hardy har.

“I’m saying this for your benefit, and for the future girls who will be forced to experience the walking ass that is you. One, do not tell a girl she’s too smart for you, because she’ll already recognise this from your limited vocabulary and inability to ask a direct question. Two, never tell them that you prefer ‘your ones dumb’ because you will have to expect a knee to the groin or a slap to the face. Three, never tell a girl that you do not want to go out with her and it was only a dare, because you may not get another yes again. And finally four…”

I leaned into his greasy scowling face. “Don’t ask a girl out when you know she’s way too frickin’ good for you”

The boys were staring up at me, completely shocked at speech. Probably trying to figure out what I just said.
“For you…” I dumped KISS on the sun-bed beside the jerk. “Because the only girls you’re ever going to get are the frozen pictures in this magazine”

And with that, I walked back up to the smoothie bar. I was so enraged about what just happened that I didn’t see the boy looking at me until I heard his laugh.

I turned to look at him, and he turned red at being caught. It was Mr. Mood.

“Zayn” I breathed, inside freaking out. He just had to talk to me now.

“That was cool” He said, giving me the first hint of a smile I’ve ever seen. Stay calm.
“Thanks. I just thought I’d give them a piece of a mind, you know he was a complete pig and I thought I’d let him know how much he disgusts me but…”
I was babbling. I can walk up to a gang of teenage idiots and give them an intellectual lecture on their dating habits, but I can’t talk to a guy I happen to really like.

“Well, you sure gave it to them”

I laughed. And then stopped. What was that supposed to mean? Was he saying I was over-reacting? Was he saying I was crazy? Was he saying he thought a girl yelling at a bunch of guys was endearing and cute?

“I was going to step in, but you seemed to be handling it on your own”

“What, you were going to rescue me?”

“I was going to Save You Tonight”
I smiled. This was the closest to friendly he’s been this past week.

“Although you’re kind of like Superwoman yourself” He said with a grin.

“Every Superwoman needs a Superman”

Was this…flirting? I was so inexperienced that this could be an argument for all I know.

“So, I better-“

“About Harry-“

We both stopped when we realised we both spoke at the same time.

“Harry?” I asked, wondering how he came into the conversation.

“I better go” He said, nodding and turning to walk away. Oh for God’s sake, what now? I watched him walk away. It was so easy to be angry at him, for being so closed up and moody. But wow, he looked really good from the back of his head. Then I felt a hand grip my shoulder and a wave of panic shocked my system.

But it was just Harry. And that’s what made me feel guilty. I was wishing it was someone else. But it was just Harry.

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