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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11. Henry the Donkey

 

“Listen, Jack, there’s something I need to tell you” Yes, for once I’m getting all serious on your asses. Trust me, it doesn’t happen very often

“I have something to tell you to” he said, way too cheery at this specific time

“Okay well, you first” I said, trying to sound as happy as I ever am. C’mon Jess, you can keep it together.

“I’m coming to London for a few days to see you!” he announced.

Shit.

“Where are you staying again? Lost the address babe”

Double shit.

Okay well it’s evident I can’t keep this secret in any longer, the weight of this mess was bearing down on my shoulders. I finally knew what it felt like to be Henry the donkey. Weird comparison I hear you say? I shall explain.

When I was about 8 my mum took me to the fair, you know the get up? Rides, candyfloss, donkey rides etc… well basically I opted for the donkey ride (obviously, who wouldn’t) and was quite distraught seeing this poor little donkey carrying some random fat kid on its back, poor little thing. It looked so tired and pained and being my usual gobby self I felt like yelling ‘get your fat ass off of that innocent donkey. Don’t sit on it, what’s it ever done to you?!’ but my mum didn’t know I knew words like that at such an innocent age.

So yeah, the weight of this secret on my shoulders was as if I was Henry with that fat kid on my back. Not that I’m comparing kissing Niall to being straddled by a fat kid, but you get my point. I hope. Please? Anyway…

“I kissed Niall!” I blurted out. What? Who said that? Wow. Bit blunt. Way to go J.

Silence.

Bit more silence.

So much silence I managed to get about ¾ of the way through humming Up All Night in my head

Awkwaaarrd…

I opened my mouth to speak, but quickly shut it again. It was my bloody lips that betrayed me, it was all their fault (okay, bit of a crap excuse but I figured it was better than saying ‘It’s Niall fucking Horan who wouldn’t?!’) and maybe if I trained my lips to keep shut we’d get out of this situation. Preferably alive…but out none the less.

Anyway. I could practically hear his anger down the phone, can’t blame him. I could picture him now actually; running his hand through his adorable dark hair, lips drawn into a thin line, cheeks flushed yet scarily pale and some slightly unshaven stubble going on.

“Where are you staying?” boy was he pissed

“Well about that, I have a perfectly good explanation and I didn’t exactly choose it to be this way but urm –”

“Where the hell are you staying Jess, bloody fucking hell just tell me!” It wasn’t even a request to know anymore. Rude, but perfectly understandable

“At Nialls…” I whispered reluctantly

Oh joy. More of my beloved silence.

Sigh.

“Jack, look, I’m so sorry I -”

The bitch hung up on me. Me. ME. Aahh hell no.

At first I felt sad, guilty and reckless. Not sad in self-pity, but I dunno. Upset with myself that I could be so stupid. Upset with the fact that I could make him feel so…yeah.

But now.

Hanging up whilst I was trying to apologise? No. No no no no. That was low. I was now angry Jess. No one should have to see angry Jess, she was not a nice person. But guess what? Too late.

Too.

Fucking.

Late.

But alas, before I knew it I was relatively calm again, afterall I suppose he did have the right. That and I have managed to perfect some efficient deep breathing techniques over the years. I was the one in the wrong here, not him. Then again, no way in hell I’m sulking my way through this, my head would be forever held high. Besides, my female antics had dumped me in much worse of a situation before.

***

After reapplying the foundation, eye liner and lip gloss to cover up my blotchy face and red eyes, I found myself standing in front of the mirror…again…at this rate I could hands down beat Malik in a vanity contest. Not looking bad Moore, not looking bad.

***

I opened the door to a loud banging and suddenly found 7 nosey bitches falling at my feet after having pressed their ears up against my door to listen in on my conversation. Elegantly – if I do say so myself – I leaped over the mass of entangled bodies that fell before my feet, I clambered onto the breakfast bar stool opposite and swivelled around to face them. It was quite the site. Despite the fact that they had all gone red with embarrassment Zayn and Harry were lying on top of each other enjoying themselves, Louis was cuddling his newly bruised knee whilst Meg fussed over him and Liam was trapped under a hysterically laughing Liss. Niall however was sat with his back up against the wall, overlooking the situation and wasn’t his usual carefree self. He was biting his lip – sexy even I he wasn’t trying – and was twiddling his hands around a braided bracelet that hung loosely from his wrist. My fault? You best believe it.

I looked down at the apple I was about to bite into a little ashamedly, then glanced back up at him.

“Oi, brace face” I called, with that he instantly looked up “come here” I beckoned, placing the apple back down on the counter and opening my arms inviting him in for a hug. He accepted, and smiled slightly. Bingo!

Why was he so goddamn sexy?

I nestled my head into his shoulders, rubbing his back reassuringly

 Damn…he smelt good.

“It wasn’t your fault” I muffled for what must have been the billionth time. He stepped back to look at me, his face uncomfortably close, I’m surprised he even heard me. But he just nodded in reply.

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