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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1. The Train Ride.

In Which Charlie Meets Louis And Louis Meets Chaz.

“Are you gonna be sick?“ Will asked. “Because, you look like you are, and I don’t really want to have you puking your Wagon Wheels all over my new shirt.”

“Shut UUUUP!” I groaned. I was actually feeling sick, but then again, I always was before I performed. Well, performed sounds like I was actually some big teenage superstar, but by that I actually meant that I performed at some weddings and stuff. People booked me, I went there, puked because I was so nervous, and then I looked cute while playing the harp or the piano and singing a bit. That was what I paid for my contacts with.

“Nick, hold the fluffing mirror straight, you dimwit!” I hissed as I burned my ear. We’d had to leave right after school—I was a boarder and Nick and Will were day students—to get to the X Factor in time. Well, I hoped we were going to be in time, I had asked to be one of the last people because my Mum was totally against me wanting to be either a singer or a DJ at Radio One, so she had signed all the paperwork, but didn’t let me leave school a bit earlier.

So that was why I was doing my hair in the train.

“Why do you need to do that anyways?” Nick sighed. His arms were probably hurting from holing the mirror all the time, such a wimp. “You have curls, so why do you straighten your hair to curl it again?”

I had really fluffy twister-frie curls that I usually straightened the crap out of, but today I decided do Jane’s Waves.

“Because then the curls look nicer.” Della said, in a duh tone. “And they’re waves, just BTW.” Della had been my best friend for, like, forever, since I came to this school in Fourth Year, when she was a Second Year, my age, and absolutely crazy. Still was.

“Girl logic.” Will groaned and checked his phone for the millionth time in the last hour.

“Just because you stare at your phone doesn’t mean it’ll ring earlier.” I commented, pulling the ends of my fringe in a slight curl so that it matched my hair. I pulled the plug out and put the Straightening Iron back into my bag, getting out my make-up (we weren’t allowed to wear any at school).

Della giggled, earning a death stare from Will. The guys and Della weren’t exactly best friends as they were in my year and never had anything to do with Della, apart from calling her my crazy friend. They were total opposites: Will and Nick were calm, science-y eighteen-year-olds, proud of being School Officers and of wearing the dark red jumper and white shirt that showed they were Sixth Formers, boys who had gotten offers from Cambridge and were acing the classes they were in, while Della was an artsy, trouble-causing and totally crazy Fifth Year. We shared a room, Della and me, because we’d begged our Matron. We were both sixteen, her being about two months older than me. I had been going to an American School—yes I was from the States—for intelligent children, meaning that I was about two years younger than the people in my year. Today was my Sixteenth Birthday, and the day my mother had finally allowed me—reluctantly, I might add—to try out.

“But Hailey might call.” He protested.

“Yeah, and then it’s gonna seem so cool if you pick up on the first ring.” Della teased.

“Hailey your girlfriend?” a guy across the corridor asked. He was quite good-looking, though not my type. Flipped, straight hair, a shirt-and-tie-combination that looked a lot like our school uniform, cardigan.

“He wishes.” I laughed, earning a glare as well.

“Yeah, you should listen to him,” Nick grinned. “’I wish Hailey would call!’”

“’But what will I say when she calls?’” I joined in.

“’What if I say something bad?’”

“’What if I can’t say anything at all?’”

“’I wish Hailey wouldn’t call!’”

Della laughed along with Cardigan Boy.

“So what are you doing in Manchester, you’re from up north as well, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he smiled nervously. “I’m from Doncaster.”

I leaned forward in my seat, putting my mascara away.

“Are you auditioning as well?”

He smiled brightly. “Yeah! You, too?”

I nodded, grabbing the mascara again.

There was a bit of silence while I applied mascara to my other eye and nobody else said anything.

“This one girl in my form is from Doncaster,” Della mentioned randomly.

“Great.” Cardigan Boy said.

I got my lipstick out and pointed at him with it. “I’m Charlie,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Her name’s actually Chaz,” Nick threw in and I rolled my eyes. They had invented this—I didn’t even know how they got the idea that Chaz was even a name. I think Della once saw a movie with a guy named Charlie in it and his friends called him Chaz. Or whatever.

“Only they call me that, I’ve no idea how they came up with it.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” He said, laughing a bit. “I’m Louis.”

I applied the bright red lipstick while the others introduced themselves, and then put the make-up away.

“You can put the mirror down now, hun.” I told Nick, who sighed happily and all but threw the mirror at me.

“Can I ask you something?” The guy who was with Louis and had introduced himself as Stan, asked me.

“Sure.” I shrugged.

Della giggled and leant over. “He’s gonna ask something about your boobs.” She whispered, causing me to laugh.

“Well, they ARE after all, phenomenal; people have to have something to look at apart from my gigantic butt and thighs.” I wasn’t the skinniest person, but that ran in out family. All women on my father’s side of the family had an EXTREME hourglass figure, with an incredibly small waist and giant boobs, but unfortunately also a bum that needed its own post code.

“I’d die for your bum.” Della said, serious.

“When you haven’t met them, you can’t possibly understand how everyone always says they kind of are lesbian, but straight, but kind of lesbian again. But they are.” Nick explained, and I laughed.

“So what was your question?”

“Are you really gonna wear that?”

Louis elbowed him, as if I might be insulted, but Della and I just burst into laughter, along with Nick and Will, who chuckled.

“No,” Will explained, “It’s our school uniform. We had to come here straight after school.”

“Oh. We’re on Study Leave, so I could just go.” Louis told us.

“Yeah, same, but these three had an amazing English Exam just now.” Della grinned. “So they had to finish five minutes early, run out of the Gym and jump into the taxi. The things we do so little Lottie can audition.”

Suddenly I thought of the audition again and felt really sick.

“Will?” I said in a baby voice. “Will, I think I need some more candy.”

“What do you want?” He asked, going all daddy on me again.

“Can I have a Wagon Wheel?” I asked.

“I knew that, I sort of mean, what kind?”

“A jam one?” I still sounded like a three-year-old.

“Sure.” He handed me the blue package and I happily ripped the wrapper off.

“Why does she say candy, and why does she say it in an English accent?” Louis asked.

“She’s American,” Della explained.

“But she goes to school with us,” Nick continued.

“And she thinks the Yorkshire Accent is unattractive for girls, so hers is kind of London-ish.” Will said.

“But actually, it’s more Cambridge, since she lives there.”

“In her holidays.”

“When she doesn’t go home.”

“She is kind of in the room.” I threw in.

“It’s a train,” Stan said, totally helpfully.

“Awe, gee, thanks.” I grumbled sarcastically.

“So wait, you’re not from that posh Quaker School, are you?” Louis asked, grinning.

I sighed. Yes, our school was known everywhere in Yorkshire as ‘That Quaker School’. Nice.

“Yeah.” Will said, rolling his eyes.

The boys looked at each other.

“…Cool.” Stan said, and then they started to ignore us.

I guess that was what you got for being on a school like ours.

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