Cats, Kisses, And Wagon Wheels. *finished*

One Direction, a band that was formed during the 2010 X Factor. Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson. Oh right, and Charlie Hunter. You didn't know about her? The Wagon-Wheel-addict with the curly hair? Well, I doubt anyone will tell you too much then. After all, what happens in the house, stays in the house. (Silver in the M Factor Competition) "This story is so hilarious, and it's already my favourite." - "...an amazing story, full of romance, drama, teenage life and loads more! The storyline is amazing, the characters are easy to visualize." - "An all around perfect book, even though it's a fanfiction!"

--Written for my cousin-in-law, Lottie, who wanted to have a One Direction Fanfic for her birthday. You are welcome.--

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3. Oh, Lovesick Mistake!

 

In Which Charlie Curtseys And Gets A Wagon Wheel.

 

It was time for bootcamp.

I was nervously tapping my foot while I was waiting for the vocal coach. With 200 others, I might add. I fumbled around with my sticker a bit, which was an ugly big white thing glued over my boobs that had my number on it, as well as a G for Girls. Suddenly, a text came in, making me have to interrupt Nicki Minaj in the middle of Super Bass.

Nicki Minaj doesn’t like to be interrupted.

Glancing down, I tell myself it’s okay, because it’s Della. In case you haven’t noticed by now, her and I have this thing going on that our friends call Chickmance, since we behave pretty lesbian-ish at times. I think you should embrace your girl crushes, though, and admit that you can be straight and fancy a girl, say that you think she’s really pretty. It’s just showing appreciation for their amazingness (I know that’s not a word), that’s all. Hell, I’d probably seen Della naked more often than her Mum. While we both dislike pyjamas, I at least wear knickers and one of my brother’s t-shirts, but she once decided that she was going to sleep naked from now on, and she is. Crazy bird.

Frog <3: Jus farted ICH BIN FEUCHT.

She was my complete opposite, but then again, we understood each other so well. But yeah, I would never say something like that. Della was really outspoken, and she was never embarrassed. And Ich Bin Feucht was about all she’d learned in five years of German. If you don’t know what it means, you’ll have to google it because I am so not telling you.

She always mocked me for my good German, but that was only because my Mum was half-German and brother Paul had married a German girl he’d met when he was in Germany for a year during his studies. She was a cutie, that one. Her name was Christine, but her family called her Tine, and she was typically German: Adorable, quite tall, and blonde with blue eyes.

My phone beeped again.                     

Frog <3: Jokes, just thought that’d make you laugh.

I grinned and texted back.

Sure did, you sexy beast.

“Charlie Hale?” someone behind me asked.

My head shot up. Great, interrupt Nicki Minaj again, why don’t you?

“Yeah?”

It was a TV crew and a smiling reporter who looked nice enough.

“Could we maybe do an interview with you? Just tell us some things about yourself.”

I shrugged. “Sure, fair enough.”

She sat down next to me, smiling.

“Okay, so your on.” She said.

“Uhm, sorry?” I smoothed my fringe back and to one side with my hand, my hair was completely straight today. “What should I say?”

“Just say your name and where you are from, some random things about you. Go with the flow.” Okay, thank you, that was so helpful.

She counted down from three on her fingers and then pointed to me and I felt the camera on me.

“Okay, so hi, I’m Charlotte Hunter, but nobody calls me that. Apart from my Mum.” I smiled. “My friends call me Charlie or Chaz, and they’re the best. I’m from the US, but I only go there in my Summer Break because I live in a Boarding School in Ackworth, West Yorkshire. It’s really cool and I met the greatest people there.” I looked at the interviewer to see if I was doing this right and she smiled at me, nodding.

“I just got sixteen and I finish school in a month. I sing at weddings, nothing big though. I’m addicted to tea and Wagon Wheels. My Mum doesn’t really approve, but singing is definitely what I want to do with my life, so I convinced her to let me go.”

The lady smiled encouragingly. “So you said you were going to finish school, haven’t you done all of your GSCEs yet?” she asked.

I shook my head no. “No, I’m sixteen, but I mean, I have finished all my exams except for one, and that’s a resit. If I don’t get through today, which I hope is not going to happen,” I held up my crossed fingers and made a face, “I’m going to go to Uni in fall.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, my Mum reckons I’m wasting my intelligence, but I feel like if I don’t do this, I’ll be wasting my talent. And my life.”

“Aaand OUT!” The interviewer smiled again. She was a pretty smiley person, I noticed. “You were brilliant, especially that last sentence. Thanks so much, we’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks. But can I say hello to someone?”

She laughed. “They all want to. But sure, you can. On again!”

I waved into the camera. “Hi! I just wanted to say hey to my lesbo Della, because she’d kill me if I didn’t.” I blew a kiss and laughed. “And to the best siblings in the world, and to Will and Nick, my Mirror Holder. Love you! And Anne, whatever your last name is: you’re a doll, thanks so much.”

To the questioning glance of the interviewer, I just shrugged. “She does awesome Prep Talks in the Ladies’, you TV people should hire her.”

She stood up. “Okay, thank you, Charlie. See you later, I hope.”

“Thank you!” I said like the nice Quaker School Girl I was, standing up.

“Did you just curtsey?” A familiar voice asked me.

“Uhm … Noo?” I said, turning and meeting Louis’ eyes.

“You did!” He exclaimed, laughing. “Oh God, that’s so classy. You’re the typical Ackworth Girl.”

I sat down, pouting. “I hate you Louis.”

“Na-a-a, Quakers don’t say bad words,” he continued teasing.

“Shuttup!” I exclaimed, though quietly because I’d seen the curly haired boy again. Had I mentioned that I really had this thing for curls?

“Charlotte Hunter? Hey, has anyone seen Charlie Hunter?” someone asked, totally saving me.

“That’s me!” I exclaimed, waving my hand at the vocal coach. Louis gave me a look that clearly said this wasn’t over.

“Finally, now come with me please.”

I was lead into a quite small room that didn’t have a lot in it apart from a guy who was wearing a hat—indoors, my headmistress would’ve thrown a fit—and a grey scarf. Savan Kotecha, in case you haven’t guessed already.

I giggled. “My sister had that scarf, too.”

Fortunately, he took it the way it was meant to be—as a funny compliment.

“It’s a very manly scarf,” he pouted, and we both laughed.

“So… Charlotte,”

“Charlie,” I corrected.

“Charlie. Do you already know what you want to do? Cheryl wants some power, so no angel voice today.”

I shrugged. “I’d kind of thought about Lovesick Mistake my Erin McCarley.”

He looked shocked. “Never heard of her.”

“Not a lot of people have. She’s American and not very famous, but I swear, the song’s brilliant!”

So we listened to the song twice and he started working with me on it.

“I think you were awesome today, Charlie, and I watched your pre-audition video, by the way.” He pulled a Wagon Wheel out of his bag—a chocolate one, mind you.

“Yay, thanks!” I squealed.

I wasn’t the most mature person, and that made a lot of people think I was dumb, but that actually gave me a good ground to work on because everyone underestimated me. But I thought I’d rather be called childish and have fun than have a dry life without any laughs.

“Thanks, Savan. For everything, you’re amazing.” I hugged him, much to the surprise of the guy that had just come into the room and was on after me.

“Good luck, Charlie!” he called after me as some Security dude steered me to the stage. “And did you just curtsey?”

I really had to stop with the curtseying, not that it was more than a little bob, but I didn’t even know why I did it in the first place.

“One, two three.” Someone walked off the stage and I heard some clapping, then the stage hand helped me up the stairs.

I could do this.

I walked out and the small crowd applauded.

“Hi, I’m Charlie Hunter.” I greeted everyone.

This one girl from the Pussycat Dolls, Nicole I think was her name (this one guy in my form was totally into her), smiled. “Hi, Charlie. Simon calls you Jazz Girl behind your back, so you better be good.” Everyone laughed, even though my laugh sounded kind of forced.

“I’m going to be singing Lovesick Mistake by Erin McCarley, who is one of my favourite singers. But not even Savan knew her, so we’ll just have to see.”

“Okay, when you’re ready,” Louis said.

I glanced at Savan, who was grinning, giving me the thumbs up and holding up a Wagon Wheel. I nodded and he motioned for the Music Guy to start.

I had to start a bit before the music, so I sucked in some air and hit the first note, trying to bring as much Jazz as possible in just for Simon.

“Oh dear, what can I say?

I'm high here, up and spinning away

From a kiss of a thrill to be filled.

Can someone hear me?“

I smiled, I was ’in it’, as my music teacher called it.

“Love, what do you say?

Your mystery winds me up to be playful…

Oh here comes my curious sinner within,

Is someone listening? I hope no one is listening…”

I started swaying to the music.

“How do I slow down? I can't relate to my heart now,

I've thrown what I know is enough for me out.

I'm running on empty…

I've gotta find some way to fumble right through

This new heartache

It's torn me apart,

Oh lovesick mistake—“

Simon held up his hand, stopping the music.

“Thank you,” I said, walking off the stage. Oh God, now I had done the curtsey thing on TV.

I handed my mic to the stage hand, and walked over to Savan, who was laughing and handing me the Wagon Wheel, jam this time.

“How many did you buy?” I asked, munching on it.

“A lot, I’m positive you’ll be staying. And Simon likes you.”

“Weeee!” I squealed playfully, and he laughed again.

“Well, anyways, see you in a couple of hours.”

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