Just Another Love Story: One Direction

Cynthia Morales is your average seventeen year-old: she sings into a hairbrush in front of the mirror, sort of a geek, and plain. Oh, and she has a major crush on Zayn Malik. But when she and her BFF Iliana go to a One Direction concert and Cynthia gets the chance to sing with the UK boyband, her world transforms. She suddenly becomes the center of envy for girls everywhere, and how will she cope when Harry Freaking Styles says he likes her (and she falls for him!)? Who will she end up with: The Flirt, or the Bradford Bad Boi?

*Rated PG-13 for language, some sexual content, and HARRY STYLES.* :D

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14. Secrets Startle Even The Famous

 

***WARNING: (MAYBE) SOME BORING SCENES ABOUT SOCCER(:***   Can six adolescents fit inside a small Jetta? Answer: KIND OF.   I guess Simon never thought that all six of us would go out at once, so we're gonna have to tell him that we need a bigger car.   We all pile in, Louis taking to the wheel. I have to admit I was a little scared, but Liam sat in the passenger seat to inspect him. Made me feel much better.   I had to sit on Niall's lap, and Harry started to whine about his legs being cold and that they needed to be warmed up. Zayn slapped him for me.   "So, Subway, right?" Louis calls over his shoulder.   "Yeah. I promised Nialler that I'd buy him three meatball marinara sandwiches."   "Four," Niall automatically corrects, smiling up at me.   The ten-minute ride is relatively quiet except for the radio, which was on. Lou was busy, concentrating while driving and listening to Liam giving him directions.   "We'll have to be a little careful. We don't have bodyguards nor are we disguised," Liam tells us. "Lou, Haz, try to behave please."   "No promises," Harry winks at me. I blush.   Louis pulls into the parking lot, and we hop out of the car. We stand around once inside (it was startling empty), looking at the menu for what we were going to order. Harry wraps his arm around my waist and rests his head against my shoulder, yawning. I was super nervous that we were touching, but it actually felt like a casual hug.   "What are you gonna get, sweetheart?" Harry whispers.   "I think I'll go with a meatball marinara too. You?"   "Whatever you want."   Zayn orders for us, one by one. Afterwards, we walk to the dining space and push together two tables to fit the six of us. Harry wouldn't separate from me at all, leaning close. I had a constant blush on my face the entire time.   "Soooo..." Lou starts off, resting his chin against his hand and staring at us two. "Did you know Harry loves you already, Tia?"   Zayn chokes on his Coke, eyes wide. Liam just blinks a lot, Niall was busy looking at food, not really paying attention, and Harry just grins innocently.   There was a long-ish silence, and I cough nervously. I had no idea what to say! (Damn you, Tomlinson!) "W-why?" I manage to speak.   Everyone lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking their heads disappointedly.   "Do we have to sing you 'What Makes You Beautiful'?" Niall chimes in.   "Or 'Magic'?" Zayn adds.   "Well, any song of ours, actually," Lou shrugs.   "We'll do it, ya know," Liam threatens, signaling for the boys to start singing.   I wave my hands frantically, stopping them. "OK, I get it. Jeez. But we've only met, like, I don't know, four days ago?"   "So?" Harry smiles. "You'll be with us for what I hope is a very long time, so we'll all get to know you well and vice versa."   "I know you guys already," I point out. "Directioner, remember?"   "Oh yeah?" Zayn asks, the main topic forgotten. "Do you know our middle names?"   "Louis William Tomlinson, or Louis Troy Austin. Liam James Payne, Niall James Horan, Harry Edward Styles, and Zayn Javaad Malik," I smirk.   Louis looks at me, impressed. "Nice work, Tia. Quick, what is one thing that me and the boys have in common?"   "You all love soccer--er, I mean, football," I say. "Which, in fact, is what you, the boys, AND I have in common."   "You like football?" Liam asks.   "Yeah, I watch it, play it."   "No freaking way," Niall gasps. "And what do you mean play it? Like, play it on a game console like FIFA?"   "I'm not a very good video gamer. I'm a goalie."   Lou scoffs. "I believe you when you say you play, but as keeper?"   "I swear! I broke one of my fingers and even had surgery last October to fix it."   "Prove it."   I extend my left hand to show them the thin, visible scar on my middle finger. I was a little ashamed of it; girls should be pretty, scarless. I wasn't.   I guess when I was taken into surgery and I had my hand wrapped up, I subconsciously hid it all the time. I still do, feeling that everyone seems to notice the scar.   "Ever since, though, I've been playing defense when my hand healed up and it was moveable. I was allowed to play again about eight months ago, in June after therapy, but I was scared to step on a field again. I'm a bit traumatized, you could say."   I retract my hand, letting it lay on my lap.   "Tell us more," Niall pleads from across the table, taking a moment to drink.   The waiter calls our order and the conversation is put on pause.   __________________________   *Zayn's POV*   Tia just got more and more interesting as time went by.   He could tell how intrigued Harry was with her, and he felt a little jealous. Harry had always been more outgoing, unlike himself. Zayn didn't like to show his emotions very much.   The declaration Louis made took him by surprise though, but just as Zayn predicted, Harry told Lou everything. That's why Luigi said what he did. He knew Harry best.   Lou loved her like a little sister, just like Liam and Niall did. Zayn already knew that Tia was going to be spoiled rotten between all five of the lads (not to mention Eleanor and maybe even Danielle), but he had a feeling that she wouldn't let them.   The only thing that gave him a bit of courage was the date he was planned to have with her. That and the fact that she forgave him made him feel good inside. He didn't want her mad at him for something stupid that he'd done. He liked her too much.   Get a hold of yourself, Zayn. She's just a girl.   But not just any girl. No. Tia really was different, and it was something anyone could tell right away. Zayn saw it the moment their eyes connected at the concert.   So what did he know about her so far? She sings like an angel, she loves football, she speaks Spanish, a writer, and an excellent student. Was that it? From what he just heard, he thought Tia knew more about them than they did about her.   He watches as Tia and Niall take a seat with the food. Everyone grabs their corresponding sandwiches and digs in. Nialler inhaled one of his in less than a minute.   Before Zayn could speak, a ringtone begins to play. "Because when I arrive! I, I bring the fire! Make you come alive! I can take you higher! What this is, forgot? I must now remind you: let it rock, let it rock, let it rock!"   Tia looks up nervously and answers her phone, turning away a little for privacy. "Hello?"   Someone speaks on the other side and she grins.   "Oh, hey, David," she says, her face lighting up.   David? Who in bloody hell was DAVID?!   "Awwh, I miss you too, and thank you. I was actually wondering if you knew what happened," she continues.   Zayn flashes the lads a questioning look, trying to hide the obvious jealousy and hurt he felt. Liam answers him with a reassuring grin, shaking his head as if saying 'It's OK!' Maybe he knew something Zayn and the others didn't.   "OK, love you too. Say hi to everyone for me and I'll try to call you later when she gets out of work. Bye." Tia hangs up and turns back around to smile at them.   "Who was it, Tia?" Harry is the first to ask.   "My cousin David. He called to say congrats," Tia replies happily. "He's the one I told you that had to drag me to my Aunt's house after I crashed, Liam."   Liam nods knowingly, the rest of the lads confused.   So Tia and Leeyum are BFFs? Well, he is a little more understanding than the rest of us, and smarter too.   "So, Tia, tell us more about yourself. For instance, what football teams do ya go for?" Niall interrogates.   "From Spain, Barcelona. From the U.S., not really anyone. Real Salt Lake, I guess. From Mexico, I'm a huge fan of America." She ponders a little, thinking. "Nothing from Italy. I don't watch La Serie A," she says in Spanish. Another pause. "Ajaccio from France. Oh, and from England, Manchester United."   "Of course," Louis grins, momentarily interrupting. "Is it because of the Mexican that plays there? What's his name?..."   "Chicharito." Tia suddenly blushes. "I used to like him a couple years ago."   Harry scrunches up his nose. "He's not the prettiest bloke on the street."   She shrugs. "Well, I liked him. My parents were actually furious with me, especially my dad. He was all, 'You betrayed us, Cynthia! How could you?!'"   "Why?" Niall says, mouth full of sandwich.   "When he played in Mexico, he was on Chivas. The rivalry between America and Chivas is similar to the one between Barcelona and Real Madrid."   Zayn and the lads nod, understanding the comparison.   "Why don't you like him anymore?" Zayn asks.   Tia blushes redder. "We can say things, er, changed. As in new celebrities entered my life."   Zayn grins, raising an eyebrow accusingly. "Was it us?"   Tia laughs, covering her face. "Yeah."   "Who in specific?" Liam teases.   "I can't tell you that!" she says, still hiding.   "I bet I know who it is," Louis grins mischievously. "I can predict the past."   "Lou, you can't predict something that already happened," Liam sighs.   "Well, whatever! Was it Za--"   "Shh!" Tia says, covering his mouth. She avoids eye contact with everyone, and it made Zayn smile at how cute she looked when she was embarrassed.   Hmm, so it's me? I'M the one she liked...likes?   Harry looked a bit sad, which made Zayn want to laugh. Poor Hazza.   "Every fan has an order, right? Like, who they like first and second and so on? You have to tell me yours," Lou says.   "A true Directioner treats every boy equally," she retorts.   "Yeah, but a true Directioner has a secret list."   Tia looks away, probably debating if she should say it or not. "Zaynharryniallliamlouis," she rushes, her words almost unintelligible.   They all gasp.   "I'm last?" Louis says, fake hurt.   "You asked, Stripes."   This just gets more and more interesting.
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