Roses for Roselyn (Niall and Harry Fanfictions)

She was just an ordinary, grounded girl with a young, obsessive sister... little did she know that her sister's biggest idol was obsessing over her. Join Rosie and Rachel on their journey in love, friendship, obsession, fame and passion. What will happen? Who will happen? And most importantly, how will they cope with the disadvantages of 'the good life'?


97. Sticky Note


Both Rosie and I are laughing as we sit in the canteen with Harvey and he lets all of the soggy rice falls off of his spoon. “How do you guys eat this stuff…?”

“We don’t.” Rosie holds up her Tesco’s sandwich and I hold up the one that I got too. I brought them for us on the way back from Harry’s last night. I would have brought 3 if I knew that Harvey would be here with us today.

Harvey just looks over at me in a resigned fashion and pushes his plate down the table so that he can rest his elbows on the white plastic top.

“Here…” Rosie hands him half of her Lemon and Herb Chicken sandwich. I hand him the other half of my Cheese and Tomato Salad sandwich too. “Have these and then we can get some McDonalds or a Subway after school. But you better be paying.” Harvey agrees with Rosie and chuckles as he takes a bite of my sandwich first.

“So how are you enjoying being back at school?”

“It would be alright if all of Roselyn’s lessons weren’t girly.”

“My lessons aren’t girly!”

“Music, dance, drama and textiles? Really?” I laugh at my best friend as Harvey slides a fist over to meet mine.

“Okay… maybe…”

“At least we both do PE lessons on Friday –they’re compulsory, so you might enjoy those.”

“Oh whoopee! Netball and gymnastics!” We all laugh together and continue to eat. Out of the corner of my eyes I can see everyone watching us; rumours spread fast and everyone seems interested in Rosie’s bodyguard. But at least everyone’s keeping their distance from us today. Even Becky’s been keeping her mouth shut whenever we walk past her, which isn’t normally the case.

One person in particular catches my eyes with theirs and I look away quickly. I’m not going to look at him; he’s been trying to call me a lot lately but I won’t have it. I made a stand and he still can’t quite accept it –it’s his loss, not mine.

“Oooh! I never told you. Guess where I’m going tonight?”

Rosie looks up with yes full of enthusiasm, effortlessly ignoring everyone else around us. “Where? Wait. Let me guess who with first…” She pretends it’s a tough one and then blurts his name out in a whisper “Harry?”

“Stop it. Nothing’s happening.” For the last few days she’s been trying to insinuate that there’s something going on which I’m not telling her.

“That’s not what he told Niall…”

“Wait… seriously?”

“I’m kidding.” Both she and Harvey laugh at my expression. I’m kind of disappointed to be honest. “So where are you going?”

“JLS’s concert at the O2.”

“That sounds so cool! I think Niall and I are going to their last one. You’ll have lots of fun!”

Her comment gets me even more excited. “Yeah, he said the last one would be too busy so we’re going tonight instead. I can’t wait!”

“Just don’t go to bed too late. School tomorrow remember.”

I laugh at Harvey’s reminder. “Yeah, Yeah. I’ll be sensible.”

The bell goes and everyone starts to get up, however the three of us stay sitting to let everybody around us leave first. “What lesson is it next?”

“I’ve got media and you two have music right?”

Rosie gives me a smile and a nod. “Right.”

We’re about to go in separate directions –the two of them to the performing arts corridor and me up the stairs to the second floor media rooms. I’ve only just waved and turned my back when I bump into some one and feel their arm graze over my waist. I jerk back from the touch and watch Miles carry down the corridor with a satisfied smirk. Rosie and Harvey are no longer there. I’m staring after him. I’m holding onto the banister of the stairs, supporting my weight. I’m light headed and slightly dizzy.

How can I make a fresh start when there’s no leaving him? He’s practically haunting my life –making it harder for me to forget. He’s doing it purposely –I know him too well.

My thoughts are confirmed when I get to media and find a luminous green sticky note in my bag. He must have shoved it in there when I bumped into him. It says ‘Don’t forget me. I still miss you. Remember the phone call? Miles.’ The trouble is that I don’t want to remember and I do want to forget.


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