Free Falling

18-year-old Emma Sheeran, Oxford University student on full-ride scholarship, hasn't had a boyfriend in nearly a year. She's so focused on everything else that the desire was unseen underneath other things. But the day her brother invites an international boy band over to the house for a month, the desire for love tops everything, and it has perfect timing. But what happens when Emma's slutty rival, Lacey Schmidt, is fresh off a break-up, and ready to pounce on the same boy Emma's eyes are on. *Crossover Fanfiction Competition*

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1. Prologue: Flashback

 

-10 years ago-

"Emma, come meet our new neighbours!" Ed Sheeran called through the house. His 8-year-old sister padded down the stairs quickly.

"The Schmidts are here?" she questioned. Ed nodded, gesturing towards the front room. Emma grabbed her older brother's hand, pulling him with her.

"Hi!" Emma said excitedly as they reached the door. There were the grown-ups, a dirty-blonde-haired boy who looked about Ed's age, and a girl who looked to be her age, and identical to her brother.

"This is my son Edward," Imogen Sheeran pulled Ed to the front, "he's your age, Kendall." The other boy smiled and shook Ed's hand furiously.

"And this is my daughter Emma," Imogen nudged Ed over a bit and pulled Emma slightly forward, "Lacey, you two will be in the same class at school."

Emma scanned over Lacey. She wore a black-and-white polka-dot skirt and a bright yellow shirt that said 'AERO 87' on it. Lacey must've been wearing some makeup, too, Emma guessed. She didn't look like any somewhat normal British girl. Emma, like many girls her age wore on a daily basis, had an oversized t-shirt that went to her knees, and tight pants. What Lacey was wearing was even fancier than a special occasion.

"Hello," Emma greeted. She extended her hand. Lacey stared at it as if it had just been pulled out of Emma's mouth.

She retaliated her hand. Maybe Lacey just wasn't like that.

-1 year later-

"Lacey, how about you invite Emma to your slumber party?" Mrs Schmidt asked her now-nine-year-old daughter. Lacey scrunched up her face, "Ew!"

"What's wrong with Emma?" Mrs Schmidt questioned in shock. She'd assumed the two were still good friends.

"She's yucky. Nobody ever plays with her or talks to her for fear her ugliness and weirdness will rub off on them," Lacey gave her honest explanation. Mrs Schmidt gasped.

"Go to your room," she snapped, "and the slumber party's off."

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