Speechless

Jessica Moore finds herself in any girls dream position...meeting One Direction. For her 18th birthday her two best friends Alyssia and Megan arrange a special day out, but when things go from bad to worse, what will she decide? What seems like the perfect position may backfire as easily as it all started...

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12. Crazily Weird And Bucket Loads Of Retarded

You know what I found myself asking my stupid brain and conscience at this precise moment in time?

Why.

For multiple reason, but here’s just a few examples:

A) Why did he smell so fucking good? (To Do List – buy him more of whatever aftershave it is as a ‘thank you for being so sexy and caring present’)

B) Why did I have a boyfriend?

Because I’m genuinely not even sure. Pushing aside all feelings and that sort of mumbo jumbo, me and relationships mesh just about as well as a needle and balloon within close proximities of each other – sooner or later that shit is gonna get messy and blow up in my face. 
Excuse the crap metaphor, but still, ya get me

C) Why is he so sexy? And why do I hate that I love him?
And possibly not my most admirable of thoughts ever but…

D) Why couldn’t I just not have told Jack and kept Niall as a little extra on the side? I’d enjoy it, hell Niall would probably enjoy it and Jack…well what he doesn’t know can’t harm him right? But then again I guess we go back to my shitty metaphor, sooner or later he’d get an inkling of knowledge and BOOM, tiny pieces of my face explode and go flying everywhere. Or heaven forbid news of our affair got leaked into the press and Niall’s career would-

Shut up Jess you’re rambling.

Sigh.

Although if I allow myself to continue pursuing Mr Horan, more emotions will occur, emotions that are not acceptable of a taken female such as myself. As well as this, the sexy Irishman in question deserves better. Not just better than being an extra little ‘something something’ to spice up a taken girls’ love life, but just an all-round better person than the said girl. 

Sigh.

So yeah. That’s how I came to take the better judgement for once in my pathetic life, the moral high road if you will. Making a fool of myself to rid my conscience and let everyone know what an awful being I am. Yay me.

World 1 – 0 Jess.

“Why is the world winning exactly?” shit, did I just say that out loud? Niall was staring at me intently, confused and probably concerned for my mental wellbeing, who could blame him. My friends and albeit my family, were way past those points of concern as they have finally realised after 18 years and 1 day that it’s just who I am.
Crazily weird with bucket loads of retarded.

“Oh urm, nothing, it’s really nothing” I stifled a laugh, my eyes curiously following him around the corner and into the kitchen where he was now leaning over, head shoved into the freezer. I couldn’t help but admire his ass.

I’m a mere mortal.

What else would you expect?

Don’t tell me you’d do any different.

Hmmm?

My point exactly.

Let’s just say his ass may not be as big as Lou’s, as small as Harry’s or as fit as Zayn’s (I’m an ass girl myself, had you noticed?) but boy was it perfect.

“Ice cream and pancakes?”

Correction. *Boy was perfect.

“You read my mind Nialler!” Harry burst into the kitchen followed by the rest of the boys, scaring me senseless in all honesty

“Aw thanks for offering to make them Haz! Make mine chocolate ice cream? And lots of it. You’re such a lovely boy Harreh” I cooed, making a fuss over him; kissing him on the cheek and ruffling his perfect curls as I giggled. Harry glared. Everyone else snickered in amusement.

Score.

Suddenly feeling very aware I was stood in a kitchen with 5/5 of One Direction whilst I looked like a twat in trackies and a hoodie put an abrupt end to my mental victory dance of being one up on the infamous Mr Styles, I began to shuffle on out to join Liss and Meg who were yelling their pancake orders at a rather bemused Harry, I paused for a moment to hover on by the kitchen door just out of sight to eavesdrop.

Eavesdrop.

That sounds so rude, more like listening in?

Or accidentally overhearing what I may or may not have meant to overhear.

Let’s go with the latter.

“I like her. She may stay.” Louis said, his sickingly innocent baby voice sealing his approval of me

“I wish”

*I hear the beat of my heart getting louder whenever I’m near youuuu*

Oh no

*But I see youuuuuu with him, slooooow daaaancing*

Oh sweet bay jesus no

*Tearing me apart cause you don’t see*

Please not now J, don’t sing

*Whenever youuu kiss hiiim, I’m breaaaking*

You’re not even a good singer Jess so for the merciful love of Satan ple-

“OH HOW I WISH THAT WAS ME” I said, jumping into an ending position with my jazz hands on full show

Oh yeah, I went there bitchez.

“Sorry, what was that?” Liam popped the question two seconds later when five beautiful faces glared around the corner of the door at me, stifling their laughter – I’m just lucky they didn’t see the jazz hands.

“Oh urm nothing!” I smiled, wow I’m a shit liar

“Were you just singing?” Liam continued to scrutinize

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re on about Payne” and when I say shit liar, I really mean I have ‘I’m a liar’ written across my forehead in permanent black marker pen and a badge that says ‘World’s worst liar’ pinned to my top

“You totally were weren’t you!” Harry was now the next one to join in with the mockery

Fantastic.

Bloody fantastic.

Fantabyfuckingdozey.

“Ok” I sighed, devious grin spreading across my face, Are you ready to feel my wrath Styles? “Yes Mr I Know Everything, I was singing. And yes the song was one of yours also, I wish? And yes, I know all of the words to every single one of your stupid catchy little songs, you’re welcome. Oh and I’m pretty sure the reason you’re doing so bloody well in the charts is due to the multiple copies of your albums and singles I brought and are now lying around in my room. But again, you’re welcome” and with that, I turned and stalked off to the sofa to join an amused looking Liss and Meg.

Louis was nursing Harry’s shocked face and patting his head, Zayn and Liam just looked at each other as if to ask ‘what the hell just happened’ and Niall, bless his heart, had his head thrown back in that ridiculously cute uncontrollable laughter he does - hand holding his stomach 
and the other slapping his thigh. Bulls eye.

Mission ‘make the Irishman happy again’ complete.

“Please apply water to burns” Liss and Meg sniggered as they, oh so indiscreetly, high fived me.

I’m back bitchez.

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