The Untold Story

One Direction is now known as the group with infectious tunes. But take a trip back to freshman year of high school. With abusive relationships, drinking, affairs, and deaths, follow Lindsay Prescott through the trials and tribulations of high school with the band and friends. Through the eyes of a typical teen girl, Lindsay exposes to us the the untold stories of 1D that not even the press could do.

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38. The Breakup

     I went through the plan in my head over and over, but it never seemed like the best idea. What felt like just yesterday, Niall and I were running through the clothes department and laughing. And now, it was the end of us. I'd rejected him once, and I'd never regretted it. Would I regret this? 

     It's over. I'm sorry. Forgive me. Forgive yourself. We can stay friends. I just can't sing? No matter what wild excuse I thought up, I deemed it stupid. Niall was smart enough to know what I was doing, would he know why?

     As I hopped from my Mom's car and walked to the garage in Harry's house, the cold winter air hit my sides and enveloped me in a chilly blanket, making my guilt worse. Inside the garage, Niall sat on a bench laughing as Zayn wrapped up a towel and slapped Harry's back; he scrambled for the shirt, spinning from the ceiling fan. I was tempted to run up to Niall and hop in his lap and press my lips to his, but told myself again to not do so.

     "Told you she'd come," I heard Niall whisper to Liam. He sighed, giving him a playful push and standing up to retrieve Harry's shirt. 

     "Hey, love," Niall wrapped me in a hug. I gave in one last time, letting my arms find his lower back and burrow my head into his chest. It felt like home... I began to cry.

     "Now don't cry, hun. Our music isn't THAT bad," Louis said, banging on the kiddy drums at a ferocious speed. He dwarfed the tiny set, slamming the sticks down and whipping his hair around.

     "It's pretty bad, considering your trying drums," Harry said, finally ripping the shirt from Liam.

     "What's wrong babe," Niall said, sticking his hands into my back pockets and resting his forehead on mine. He lightly kissed my nose, making the pain go away all the while making this harder.

     "I can't do this," I said it below my breath, wiping tears from my cheeks. 

     "Well of course you can!  Without you we'd be just a boy band. You have a beautiful voice, too,  Lindsay! Come on, sing me a verse," he handed me a mic and stepped back to examine me. All five guys were looking, waiting for anything. 

     I sang, as he'd wished, into the microphone: "Niall, it's over," 

     I dropped the mic onto the ground, and took off out of the garage. I didn't get far, as Niall laid his hand on my arm and held me in place. I tried to not cry, my back to his face and eyes forward at the sun falling over the horizon. 

     "What's that supposed to mean?" he said. Unlike Zayn, he wasn't angry or even the least bit sad. His voice was fearful, genuine concern. He enclosed me in a hug once again, slipping his hands under my arm and joining them at my waist. My body gave way to his, letting him hold me up. I can't do this. I can't do this. Just love him, Lindsay. Love him and lie to yourself and make it easier on everyone.

     He ran his finger over my belly button in circular motions, laying short sweet kisses on my neck, softly at first and getting more passionate. 

     "Turn around, beautiful, let's see if those eyes still sparkle," he wrapped me tighter, protecting me from the wind and the view of his friends behind him. 

     "I can't do it, Niall. I can't. I can't put everyone before myself. It's easier for me this way," I swore I'd said it aloud, but he only kept kissing me. His fingers slid ever so slowly up my chest and onto my neck, making a turn and finding their way into my hair. Niall gently moved the hair behind my ear, giving him more access to neck, my cheek and eventually my lips. I turned at last, kissing him back. Inside, my heart said 'Stop. He's playing with you,' but my body wanted it one last time, to have the reviving touch of the one and only Niall Horan.

     He gained access to my moth, slipping his tongue in and seductively rolling the tip around mine. I inched closer and closer until we were standing in the driveway together as if one person.

     He separated from me, intertwining his hands with mine. I ripped away and pushed him, "NO! NO! You can't just kiss me and make the past few months disappear. The first time you acknowledge my existence in a month is when you need a favor! Boyfriends don't do that you know!"

    "I know, I know. It's just that Alan's death hit me hard, Lindsay. You don't get it. I drank and craved sex and girls as a way to forget about it... i couldn't help myself," he said. The way he said girls in a plural tense only made me angrier.

    "Well you could have helped yourself when you were slamming his face into the sand! You're practically the reason Alan died in the first place!" The second the words left my lips, I regretted them. His face fell, his eyes welling up with tears.

    "I beat him because I loved you and wanted no other man to have you. We've been friends longer than anyone, Lindsay. And you seem to just jump from me to Alan to this new Logan kid. Sure, I don't talk to you as much as you may like, but it's sure as hell better than talking to other guys!"

    "Niall, I do that because you don't give me the time of day! So if you won't I might as well let another person do so!" By now I was screaming, loud enough for not only the boys to hear but perhaps Harry's entire neighborhood. 

    "I LOVE YOU, LINDSAY! OKAY?! I may seem mad and drunk and sex driven. I may be selfish and crude and flirt with other people and not talk to you for days. I can be terrible, but hell- aren't we all? We weren't made to be the ideal pair! We've had ups and downs and both have problems no one else would understand. Lindsay, you don't need to be perfect. Perfection would be nothing but a boring ending," 

     At this point we were both crying. The cold winter sun slapped my back and the chilly wind made the tears run to my mouth, leaving me with a bitter taste on my lips when I spoke to him.

     "I love you too. But love is a drug, Niall. And you're just so high on it you're delusional to what is really happening,"  I kissed him on the cheek, and walked home for 10 blocks.

     i got home, slumped on the bed, and cried my eyes out.

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