She's too young - completed

This is a story I wrote for a fan, Ellie. I'm so sorry I haven't posted it, it's been waay crazy. So anywho, this is a fanfic about Louis Tomlinson. They fall head over heels in love, but will it work? People will cry. Feelings will die. And the world will continue to tell them, "She's too young..."


55. Fighting with Chelle

"Ellie, sweety.. you're late for school." Martha woke me at the end of my bed, and I peaked up above the covers flinching away at the brightness of the bedroom. I was scared, almost forgetting I had spent the night with demon seed next door. My head was dizzy and I was too tired to even think about going to school today. Groaning, I sat up clearing my throat. It was rare I overslept, on accident at least, so I coughed once more before asking, "What time is it?"


She glanced at her watch quickly, and curved her eyebrows, "I believe you'd be in third hour right now.. didn't Michelle wake you? She said she did." I rolled my eyes, and muttered "Well it doesn't look like she did."


Martha pursed her lips. "It would assume she didn't. Come on, get dressed I'll take to, you'll just have to get a late slip."


"I don't have any clothes." I pointed to my previous outfit lying in the hamper beside us, and she patted her knees walking towards the dresser.


"You can where something of Chelle's?" She asked, pulling out a white satan blouse that was beatly buttoned up.


"Haha, um. No. That's fine, you could drive me to my house before school and I can change there." I suggested, swinging my feet over the bed to stand up.


"No, I insist. This should fit perfectly. The only thing is the chest area..." trailing off, I received the stupid elevator look once again.


"Wait what do you mean about the chest area?" I gasped.


"Well, it's just Chelle is a bit more full in cup size than you. But don't worry, they'll grow in once you hit puberty." My cheeks burned red, as my arms moved to cover my shall I say normal sized boobs. This was a total awkward and embarrassing moment. It just added onto my insecurities a mile more. So what I didn't have the biggest chest, jesus christ.


"I've already hit puberty, I'm sorry my chest isn't full to your liking." I snapped, gripping the blouse from her.


"Here, you can wear a pair of her jeans as well, they might be-"


"No, I'll where my pair from yesterday. My butt's too small for her jeans anyhow." My attitude was visible to a high extent. And I knew it wasn't helping Martha and I's stepmother and daughter relationship at all. She was rude. Just like Chelle's bitch ass. I mentally slapped myself in the face, as I'd said before my language had been out of control. But at least it was mainly kept under my breath, or in the back of my head rather than saying so many curse words out loud. Which I still did occasionally. Martha took it upon herself to leave shutting the door behind her, so I quickly slid on my jeans and buttoned up the white shirt over my bra. Sadly she was right, the chest was a bit baggy, but it was to be expected after Chelle's stupid body had been equipped in the same article of clothing. I felt like ripping it off and shredding it, knowing she had worn this before, but I did need something to wear for today. So I dealt with it. My hair fell in waves from my braid, and after I wiped my eyes of old mascara, I unwillingly moped downstairs.


"You have a good day, okay?" Martha hollered as I fled the car, running to main hall for my late slip. I ignored her, still irritated with the smart remarks earlier. My gaze followed the clock on the wall above the office doors, and I praised my being late, so I didn't have to sit through first period in front of a very annoying Trevor. But this as well meant in only one period, I'd have lunch, I would most likely have some sort of encounters with him or Chelle. Unfortunately. Class was the usual boring, and I had found no complete interest in my literature. copy whatsoever. I usually felt so drawn to the subject, but my mind wandered elsewhere. Back to whatever my Dad was telling me last night, and how when I really thought about it, things made sense. The only thing I wanted to do was call Louis, and let him know I love him, I just wanted him with me again. Even how desperate that may have sounded, I just needed him. One of my knees was pulled up to my chest, the other one swinging back and fourth over the edge of the wall surrounding the quad area. I didn't want to socialize, or eat, or even drink, so with my hair lying on one shoulder, my stare was on my charm bracelet, fiddling with the ballet slippers clanking against the beads from the wind. It was only obvious a storm was coming again, and it was only coincidental that I had left my coat in the guest room at Martha's house. I always left it behind when it happened to rain. My phone vibrated in my pocket, so I slipped it out noticing I had a text. Sighing, I opened it up.


'can you call me tonight? i need to talk to you.' -Louis.


I replied quickly, 'yeah i'll call you after drama practice. what is it?'


'its nothing.. i just want to hear your voice.' It was strangely compared to the first time Louis and I talked on the phone, because I totally had a mental freakout. My thumbs went to work, texting back simply, but straight to the point.


'okay... i'll call you later, i have to go.' I really didn't have to go, but I was feeling light headed and, all mushy at his romanticism. I needed to get it through my puny brain that we weren't together. Even through everything I found out, I wasn't sure if I should tell Louis that I knew. Or maybe, that was what he wanted me to call him about. But I seriously needed to stop thinking too much, it was begining to chase me on the 'emotionally unstable' side. Which wasn't good.




"Miss Gilmore, I don't really feel comfortable doing this." I panted, uneasily breathing hard standing on the stage before the crowd of empty seats. My stance was before Trevor, and the light shown down on us as we finished rehearsing our lines. Trev tried to grasp my smaller hand into his grip but I instinctively pulled away, obviously not wanting to act out this upcoming scene.


"Miss Gilmore," I repeated. "Please, I don't think I can do this."


"Ellie, you just have to kiss him. That's all, okay?" She reassured me, nodding for us to continue on.


"Yes but I don't want to kiss him." I retorted, standing my ground. Trevor scoffed beside me, clearly offended, so I sent him a sarcastic smirk and went on with my complaining.


"And after this we're bringing out the dagger. I'm not emotionally ready to commit suicide. Its nerve wrecking."


"Let's just do this please, it's only acting." Gilmore tapped her conductor stick on the edge of the stage, waving her free hand in the air for the rest of the drama room to be quiet. I nodded in response, taking a deep breath as the lights were darkened again and we were center stage. 'Romeo' captured my hand, and he was fighting back another sarcastic smirk while he spoke his lines. Before I knew it, he pouted his lips and closed his eyes, bringing his face closer to mine when I shouted, "Stop!"


"What, Ellie? What? Opening night is in less than two weeks and you're slacking. Please get this together." Gilmore snapped, and it sounded like she was going to cry. It was only a play, woman, calm down.


"I don't know what to tell you, you can't expect me to be okay kissing this imbecile." My eyes rolled at Trevor who was still highly offended, which I still didn't care at all. She huffed, more frustrated with me than usual.This wasn't working out, I didn't care how irritated Gilmore was with me, my lips weren't going to become in contact with his. I hated Trevor.


"Are you in love with anybody, Ellie?" Miss Gilmore, whispered, causing my heart to drop probably a mile. It was only because I was caught off gaurd at the sentimental question. it wasn't a secret about my love life, but it was still fairly new and unheard that we were splitzo. Which didn't necessarily mean I wasn't not in love with him anymore. I still loved Louis with every inch of my heart. "Yes, I am in love." I admitted, receiving various of gasps around the room, I had no clue why they were all taken aback. But they were.


"Imagine Trevor as the boy of your dreams. Imagine him, your love, up there on stage with you, and kiss him. Kiss your romeo, Ellie."


Finally, I obliged, sighing and nodding in agreement to just get this over at Gilmore's request. Just as I turned to Trevor, I blinked a couple times to adjust to the situation, and the room fell silent. While Trevor began reciting his words, my gaze fell into his eyes attempting to see my love through him. Though he was speaking, and the spotlight was on us, I heard absolutely nothing coming out of his mouth. My eyes never left his, and as he finished up his lines, and a haze overcame me when I didn't even see the boy I hated standing in front of me. Only thinking of the one I loved, I watched my mind trick me, pretending to change Trevor into Louis. So as soon as I seen his words end, I instantly pressed my lips into his, grasping the sides of his cheeks with my palms. My eyes were closed and before the kiss ended, my orbs unwillingly peeled open to an ear piercing squeal coming from a screaming idiot.


"Ugh! Ellie get your lips off him like that, you tramp!" Pulling away from Trevor, a disappointment fell over me when I knew seeing him as Louis was nothing more than a mirage. And that disgusting voice that ripped me from my daydream, could only belong to Chelle. Trevor was just standing there staring at me, surprised at the 'passion' when our lips touched. I rudely smacked his hand away from me, and turned toward Gilmore applauding us in awe. Then my focus turned back to Chelle.


"What are you doing here?" I sighed, biting my lip in embarrassment.


"Well first of all, Juliet. You shouldn't be kissing him like that. And second of all, I'm here because I recruited to work on props." She smiled sarcastically.


"No, you didn't. You don't even know how to work props." I shot back. Chelle had no artistic bone in her body, there was no way in fuck she'd be working on this play with me. Jesus Ellie, language.


"Actually, 'Smellie'..." Chelle began. Smellie, I've never heard that one before. "I'm quite the one to put together props for soiree's, you know?" Her head was held high, as if she was confident in her big choice of words.


"Chelle, this isn't a 'soiree'. It's a play in theater, you idiot." Sighing, I hopped down from the stage to fan myself with my crumbled script. The temperature seemed to rise by the minute, mainly from angry tension.


"Hey, no name calling, bitch. I don't care what you say or do, I'm still working in this soiree. Got it?" Chelle was really aiming on my nerves right now, it was sadly working. And the 'soiree' memo was probably more annoying than the whole situation itself. If I had my way, I would rip her bleached hair right off of her arrogant, slimy insensitive little head. "And don't think it's cute to sleep at my house ever again. That is my territory, you intruded. So I put sleeping pills in your water last night, and you overslept. But you better believe that next time I'm done with you, you won't wake up. Okay, Ellie? Do you understand, hotshot?" Chelle interfered my violent thoughts by whispering angrily in my ear. That explained why I was so groggy when I awoke earlier. Ugh. She turned to walk away when I gripped her shoulder, pulling her back over to me.


"I think it's so funny that you drop sleeping pills in my water at night, when you don't even remember to take your own medication yourself. You psycho. And that could be considered attempted murder, I can very well call the cops on you, and you'd be locked up for a very long time. So the question is, do you understand?" My breathing was accelerated by a long way, and I struggled to calm myself down before there was a blood scene on school grounds. Chelle couldn't get away with this, she drugged me, and had no remorse over it. It totally defies how crazy and mental she literally is.


"You're going to call the cops? Who are you going to call? Your dad? My stepfather? See how well that works out for you, because who are they going to believe, Ellie?" She stood her ground, and so did I.


"Yeah, who are they going to believe? Michelle Higgins', the known psycho who bluntly ran over Jessica and Daisy Tomlinson on purpose? The girl who overdoses on pills because of a bad break up?" I shouted.


"What about the girl who's only fourteen years old, having sex with eighteen year old Louis Tomlinson? You're a slut!" She screamed, causing the whole room to fall silent at the argument we were having.


"News flash I was fifteen when we slept together, stupid! And it's none of your goddamn business Chelle, you're just jealous because Louis loves me, and he'll never, ever, love you!"


"He doesn't love you, he left you! And I guarantee that in two weeks when he comes back, it's never going to be the same. I'll make sure of it!" That being stated made it aware Chelle knew about the two week pattern she formed with Louis. To be honest, it scared me a bit. It wasn't the brightest idea to dig my hole deeper with her either, but I had to stand my ground. Because Chelle was going down as hard as I could push her. Just as she did to me.


"Go to hell." I spat, pushing her shoulder to move her away from me. The whole room cooed and booed at the ending cat fight, so I took my place slouching into a theater chair in the meanwhile.


"Ladies, that's enough. Chelle, get the props together. Ellie, on stage now." Gilmore was sweating bullets, and dare I say way too late stopping the angry 'discussion' between Chelle and I. Moaning annoyingly, I climbed back on stage as the props were carried out by the she-devil herself. I stretched a couple times to cool down, with my hands on my knees shakily. I felt no clue why I had been so nervous to do the scene with the dagger. I thought the uneasy knot swelling in my stomach had been from my dispute seconds ago. Or maybe it was just the fact that I had to fake a suicide in front of practically the whole school in nearly two weeks. Suicide was a touchy subject for me lately, considering all of the bullshit I've gone through, the only thing that would satisfy me right now would be to just drop dead. Literally speaking.


"Get the props out here! Ellie, your lines... 'O happy dagger.'" Gilmore chanted loudly, getting my attention.


"Yes, I know. This is thy sheath; there rust... there rust... and um.. I'm sorry just give me a minute please." I mumbled, my lines becoming blank at the moment. Gilmore nodded in approval of my forgetfulness, realizing it was a lot to take remembering encyclopedia sized scripts in only fourteen days. I knew she was frustrated, but it was understandable. As I took a few more deep breaths wording my lines in my head over and over again, I noticed the prop crew take there places beside me on stage, setting up the back drops and such. Straightening my posture, I began to recite the line over again when my heart oh so familiarity dropped to the pit of my stomach that was still twisting with uneasiness. My pupils widened at the sight before me. Laid flat on the floor, set put but Chelle, was the dagger. I marched over to her, pushing her away from the weapon.


"What the hell is that?" I screamed pointing to the object on the ground.


"It's the dagger! For the scene!" She yelled back, I already knew this was going to be another long argument.


"That's from my father's collection, I heard Martha say last night one of them was missing, and there it is! Are you trying to kill me?" My eyes threatened tears which I successfully held back, as I flatly called Chelle out in front of God and everybody.


"What are you talking about?" She crossed her arms, smirking at everyone around us.


"That dagger! Its real, you're trying to murder me you fucking psychopath."


"Ellie," Chelle leaned down slowly to pick up the sword. "It's fake."


My cheeks burnt red, sliding my finger upon the tip of the blade, clearly seeing it was only a mere replica, plastic. Before I could say anything Chelle pretended to cry as if I was the bad guy here. "Why would you think I would murder you? That's awful, Ellie! I only had the dagger duplicated for the real effect of the weapon. Its plastic." I was getting rude snickers at my outburst. This was officially awkward. My mouth opened to say something but it felt like nothing but dust came out. Chelle stood towering over me, breathing disturbingly close to my neck. "You're embarrassing yourself, El." She whispered.


"Get away from me." I muttered, not making eye contact.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll..."

"You're bluffing."

"And you're a bitch."

"Oh am I?" I shook my head in a 'matter-of-fact' way, clenching my jaw at her snickering face scrunch up confidently. She knew she was going to win, whether I liked it or not.


"That's my shirt." She snapped, tugging on the hem of it."


"I know it's yours, I can smell the clorox on it." I retorted, my comeback on her freshly bleached hair. She really needed to stop that, or else she'd be bald by the end of the year. No, actually, let her keep it up. Who was I to care anyhow?


"I want it back." she shouted.


"Girls, enough, now!" Miss Gilmore interrupted, weaving her hands all twisted in the air at our rivalry.


"No, I want my blouse back, now." Chelle stood there, glaring at me up and down. I wasn't going to let her be satisfied with herself.


"Fine, here." I unbuttoned her stupid satin shirt, completely aware that only my chest was covered beneath, and I ripped it off, throwing it at her. "Take your shirt." I snapped, stomping down from the stage, all eyes on me only in a pair of jeans and my black cotton bra. Numerous of glares were at me, but I didn't give a second care about anyone in that godforsaken room. My arms folded across my chest, attempting to hide myself, pushing past the students and out the back door. I knew how this was going to raise the bar much higher on my disliking to the whole school, but if Chelle wanted to stand her ground so bad, than so did I.


The cool breeze smacked hard against my bare skin, as I hid behind one of walls near the parking lot when I seen a car pull up. Sliding down the wall, I brought my knees up to my chest partially hiding it, and mainly fighting the urge to cry. Around the corner peaked Jessica, a sad facial expression written all over her as she knelt beside me. Her arm extended, offering a pullover sweater, and I gladly took it with a sniffle and a half smile.


"I know, I embarrassed myself back there." I mumbled, slipping the coat over my body which I was really quite thankful for.


"Don't be embarrassed, it was cool what you did, you stood up to Chelle. Everyone's talking about you in there, how you just ripped your shirt off and left. Pretty badass if you ask me." She smirked, helping me up from the wall.


I tucked my hair behind my ear shakily, "you think so?"


"I know so. Chelle's a bitch and no one would have the balls to stand up to her. She's mental." I appreciated the sort of pep talk Jess was giving, but I knew she was scared as hell for what that monster was going to do to me next. I was too..


"Listen, I known what Chelle did to you and Daisy over summer break." I flat out got to the point. Jessica frowned, leaning over, rolling up the bottom of her jeans, exposing a large scar. "Do you see this? She missed me by this much."


"Did it hurt?" I asked, staring at the still-bruised mark.


"Yeah, it did. But that just says how psychotic she is, I didn't even see it coming... So uhm on another note. Louis left, to protect you right?"


"uh yeah..." I sighed, staring at the ground and still shivering from the wind. My mind wandered to all the hurt that's been caused, even from when before Louis and I were together. If I could honestly take it all away for them, then I would. Jess gripped my shoulder, her face appearing softer than usual, whispering. "Louis told me that if anyone gets hurt again, he's gone for good." It wasn't really new, her saying that, but my thread of hope broke a bit more when she confirmed that he wouldn't be back if certain occasions were to happen. A bubbling anger built in the pit of my stomach again, but I kept as calm as I could before I exploded.

"You mean, for good?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, Ellie. For good."

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