'Strong' A Niall Horan Fan Fiction

“It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey”
Niall Horan looked like a normal teenager, with his dyed blonde hair and brown roots that was always up in a high quiff unless it was stuck to his hair with sweat after lacrosse practice, to his bright blue eyes that were always bright with happiness.
Niall Horan acted like your normal teenager, going out drinking with his friends, partying ‘til early hours in the morning and sleeping with different girls whenever he felt like it. Most people thought he was just not a ‘relationship’ kind of guy but they had no idea…
Niall Horan was adored by all. Girls wanted him, Guys wanted to be him, Teachers thought he was a Saint, they never fully understood how he kept his good grades and led the team to victory EVERY single time he was led on to the field.
Niall had a secret though…he WASN’T a normal teenager.
Niall had a secret. A secret his family, his nine best friend’s family and him shared....

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3. Chapter 2-Just Peachy

Chapter 2 of ‘Strong’

                                                                      
You have pointed out my flaws again
                                                                                             
As if I don't already see them’-
                                                                                                                                                             Mean, Taylor Swift







Kayleigh's P.O.V
 
 
 
"Our twenty minute break is almost up Kayleigh," Amela told me glancing at the clock that hung on the boring cream wall in the surprisingly quiet hallway. I sighed still searching for my Home Education book in my tiny locker.
 
 
"I can't find my book anywhere! I swear this locker is like frickin' Narnia! It should be called 'The lion the witch, and Kayleigh's evil book-eating-locker!' "I exclaimed sending my evil locker a glare, "The half-horse half-human thing is probably in the middle of making scones right now!" I muttered angrily slamming my locker shut finally giving up. Amela stood beside my laughing, holding her book, hardback and homework copy. "What will we be doing in Home Ec. today?" I questioned Amela giving up all hope of finding that book today. There is no doubt in my mind I will find that book when Home Ec. is finished and I no longer need it. I let out an annoyed sigh while zipping up my bag which held my hard back and Homework copy. I managed to find them and put them in my bag before I went on my quest to find my book–Which I failed at, might I add–.
 
 
"Today we're just learning, talking notes, and finding out what we'll be making Thursday." Amela told me slipping her phone into her black ripped skinny jeans pocket. The jeans went really well with her oversized red jumper which had 'XO' written in white and her black Nike high tops. I noticed how she still had on her half moon necklace. It probably holds some sentimental value.
 
 
"Who are you usually partners with?" I questioned as we started on our journey to our Home Ec. class.
 
 
"I don't actually know...…Before you came there were nineteen in our class so I was put with Harry and Niall. I love them both but Harry gets too serious when he's baking and Niall eats most of the ingredients before we even start making anything," She said shaking her head at the thought of the two boys. To anybody else she'd seem annoyed but I could tell she wasn't by the smile that resided on her face.
 
 
"Want to be partners?" I questioned, tightening my high ponytail. Amela gave me a suspicious look, "Depends. Are you any good?" She questioned causing me to give her my best offended look.
 
 
"I'm not bad. I can make lasagna, quiche, chicken curry, sausage rolls and I can bake cookies, apple pie, chocolate muffins………but I still manage to burn toast." I said causing Amela to give me a 'What-the-hell' look. I let out a sigh and looked down in shame, "Don't ask."
 
 
I looked at Amela with a strange look which she matched with a confused one. I kept looking at her that way until she eventually had enough, "What?" She questioned, this time giving me a strange look. "You told me you were half Bosnian, half English and that you lived in Denmark, right?" –Yes I remembered all that, I'm just that smart–Amela nodded so I continued, "But now that I listen carefully you don't sound Danish or Bosnian, you actually sound American but you sound British when saying some words." I said while she just laughed, "Yeah, I know. You just seemed so excited when you thought I had this mix of accents I didn't want to ruin it for you," She explained while I just replied with a disappointed "Oh."
 
 
We were walking down the hallway–The Home Ec. room was at the very end of the narrow never ending hall–when I walked into someone. I looked up at those same sea blue eyes that held disgust yesterday and internally groaned. I just walked into Niall.
 
 
Again!
 
 
He had a soft smile on his face but once he realized it was me, his eyes filled with recognition and his smile quickly turned into a scowl. "Watch where you're going," He seethed walking past me in to the class room. I let out a sigh and noted that the room he just walked into was 'Room 24'. I'll need to know it for Thursday when I have class next. Amela can't walk me to my class forever.
 
 
Amela walked into the Home Ec. room five minutes late, me following after her.  A tall slim woman with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes started shouting at Amela for being late. Amela apologized to Mrs. Cook–Ironic right?–taking the full blame for us being late. Before Amela could get in trouble because MY evil locker decided to be a pain in the ass, I decided to speak up.
 
 
"It was actually my fault we were late, Miss. I couldn't find my book and Amela needed to show me the class," I explained giving her a little smile. She gave me back a huge smile and quickly waved off the fact we were late. "It's fine, don't worry about it Ms. Long. You can both take your seats. Since you are both late, I'm sorry to inform ye but the only seats left are in back." She explained pointing to the seats that were second from the back–In front of Amela's curly haired 'friend' and Niall–.
 
 
"How is sitting at the back a bad thing?" I mumbled to Amela as we took our seats.
 
 
"You're Irish Ms. Long, aren't you? I can tell by your accent. I've been to Ireland enough times to know. Lovely country it is. Where exactly are you from?" She questioned seeming to have completely forgotten Amela and I were almost ten minutes late.
 
 
I felt every bodies eyes on me and I started fiddling with my fingers under the table, "Um, I'm from the South West, down around Munster," I explained wanting nothing more than the people who sat at the tables in front of me to turn around and stop staring at me.
 
 
"Oh, Munster is a lovely province. Amazing rugby team there as well," She said and I couldn't help but agree with her, "Mr. Horan is one of my best students and is also Irish so you two probably have a lot to talk about. Anyway, class, on Thursday we will be making chocolate chip muffins and cookies. I know they are both simple recipes but it is just to ease ye back into things and to get comfortable with the kitchen again."
 
 
 
.......................................................................
 
 
 
 
 
I found myself at the same table I sat at yesterday, talking to the same four hilarious, good-looking, musically talented boys. I knew they were talented because yesterday at music–The one Amela's friends (Niall being one of them) weren't at because they were at lacrosse practice–the teacher asked them how their songwriting was going. When I asked them about it, the teacher must have overheard because she asked them to sing the song they were working on before Christmas break 'Wild Heart' but when they denied saying they weren't finished she told them–Technically forced–to sing 'Can We Dance' and they were amazing! Apparently they are in a band called 'The Vamps'–Connor on the bass guitar, James on the guitar, Tristan on the drums, and Bradley on rhythm guitar and as the lead singer.
 
 
"That was the longest eighty minutes of my life!" I groaned laying my head on the table in a dramatic manner. The four boys at the table laughed.
 
 
"Brad, what's lacrosse?" I found myself asking the attractive brunette. All the boys looked at me like I had ten heads which I replied to with a quiet 'What?' and questioning look.
 
 
"I'll make this easy for you since you're kind of slow," Brad started while I gave him my best offended look. I'm not slow, it's just that most of the time my brain is on overdrive! Connor gave me the best 'You know it's true' look while Brad continued, "Basically, lacrosse is a sport played using a small rubber ball and a long-handled stick called a crosse or lacrosse stick. There are ten boys on the field and their goal is to get the ball, throw, carry, and catch it with a long-handled stick having a curved L-shaped or triangular frame that has netting covering the angle, a.k.a the crosse. They have to score by throwing the ball into the crease where only the goalie is allowed in. The boys/men's version of the game is a contact sport, which requires padding such as shoulder pads, gloves, helmets, elbow pads, cup, and sometimes rib guards.” He said while I tried to understand.
 
 
"Like what they do in Teen Wolf?" I questioned while the rest of the boys just gave me a confused look, "Yeah, sure," James said, still clearly confused with what I had said and wanting to move on from the topic.
 
 
"By the way Brad, that was not an easy explanation! You're lucky I'm not slow!" I said causing him to shake his head and mumble 'You are a little bit' which I chose to not acknowledge.
 
 
"I have double Physical Education after lunch!" I groaned biting into my red apple. I wouldn't even mind if it was last class but sadly I still have music afterwards which means having to redo my hair and putting back on my cream wooly jumper, maroon skinny jeans and black recessions.
 
 
"If it makes you feel better, you have it with us," Tristan said sending me a wink.
 
 
"Oh joy...." I mumbled under my breath.
 
 
 
.......................................................................
 
 
 
I was walking to music by myself since I no longer needed Amela to show me my classes–Amela was already in class since she doesn't take half as long to get ready as I do–I passed students rushing to their classes. My body collided with another for the second time today causing us both to fall on our asses. He stood up and brushed off his dark navy skinny jeans that were tucked into his white Supras and readjusted his white t-shirt. I knew exactly who it was before looking up at him, just by his outfit.
 
 
It was Niall.
 
 
He offered me his hand, "Need some help?" He said softly and I knew by the way he said it, he was smiling. I was nearly having a debate in my head whether to accept his hand or not but I knew for a fact that he had no idea the person he ran into was me.
 
 
I mean, I knew I was clumsy but to knock into a guy not once, not twice but three times in two days! Isn't that just a little over extreme?!?
 
 
After contemplating whether to take his hand or not, I placed my small hands in his surprisingly soft hands and he helped my off the ground.
 
 
"Thanks." I mumbled brushing the dirt off my maroon skinny jeans. I looked at his face and mentally complimented him on his hair which was in a perfect quiff.
 
 
"Oh..." He mumbled annoyed, "It's you!" He spat causing anger to bubble inside me.
 
 
"What the hell is your problem?" I questioned him harshly, shocking both Niall and me. His mouth was slightly agape but I didn't care, I wanted answers. I know he hasn't done much to me other than giving me harsh looks or treating me like I was the ugliest thing on the planet, but I wasn't used to not being liked.
 
 
Okay, that was a lie. Everybody has haters–Only some people have less than others–but at least most of the time I know why they hate. So I was determined to figure out why Niall hates me.
 
 
"Because.....because you're you!" He exclaimed. I raised my eyebrow at him; I mean seriously, is that the best this guy has got?
 
 
He opened his mouth and closed it again. Then reopened it and closed it again, not quite knowing what to say or having a hard time choosing his words. We stood like that for a few more seconds until he got a mean look in his eyes.
 
 
"You annoy me. Plus you don't belong here! Every girl here is pretty and nice while you are just fat and ugly! If you want to fit in, go get a face job and maybe go on a diet!" He spat, looking smug walking away towards the music class. I somehow managed to keep myself from crying, either sad tears or angry tears. I have always hated the fact that I cry when I'm angry–I also tend to curse a lot too so when I said my next sentence with lots of curse words, I wasn't surprised–but I never cry in public and I wasn't going to cry in front of this dick!
 
 
"You know what," I half-shouted attracting his attention–Along with many other pupils–causing him to stop, turn around and give me a shocked look which I matched with an angered one. "You are one sick fuck! You can't judge me based on what you see! I know I'm no fucking model! I know that because all my life bastards like you have told me constantly! I'm not trying to be a model! I like food, that isn't a crime! I'm not pretty, I get that but I'm not going go plaster myself in make-up to make dicks like you happy! I may not look pretty or attractive on the outside but at least I'm not ugly on the inside! I don't judge people based on their looks! If you don't like how I look, don't look at me! Don't acknowledge me! Leave me the fuck alone and I'll leave you alone, you bastard!" I shouted angrily walking past him into the music room leaving him in the hall dumbfounded.
 
 
I walked in to the music class and sat down in my seat which was on the back beside Amela. I huffed angrily when Niall walked in to the class, receiving high-fives from boys and flirtatious smiles from girls.
 
 
Amela turned to me and raised her eyebrow, "You okay?" She whispered questioningly while I just nodded. "Everything is fine," I muttered, opening my book to the instructed page.
 
 
"Just peachy...."
 
 
 
.......................................................................
 
 
 
I unlocked my door and walked into my shockingly quiet house. I threw my bag containing my homework and walked into the kitchen. A little pink sticky note caught my attention on the fridge.
 
 
Hey sweetie,
I'm sorry but you'll have to make your own dinner.
Your father and I have taken your siblings out to eat.
We should be back before night.
Love you,
               Mam xx
 
 
I sighed and walked over to the bin, threw the sticky note away and walked back towards the fridge. I opened the gray steel door and looked at my dinner options when I got a bad feeling in my stomach. Niall's words reappearing in my mind.
 
 
Haunting me.
 
 
"You are just fat and ugly!" "Go get a face job and maybe go on a diet!"
 
"Go on a diet!"
 
 
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I closed the fridge door, grabbed my school bag and went upstairs to do homework.
 
 
Not bothering to eat anything.
 
 
 
 
Amela's P.O.V
 
 
 
"The full moon is approaching," Bobby Horan shouted, catching the attention of the wolves who had gathered in the cave. I was used to hearing this line, having heard it from Bobby thousands of times since I was thirteen. "It will be here in less than three weeks. You all know the drill. The cubs will be chained up as it is their first time and they have no control but everybody else can run wild in the forest," He continued shouting, his voice bouncing off the walls of the cave. "Do not, under any circumstance, make contact with a human!" I played with my fingers, mouthing along to what Bobby was saying, knowing his speech by heart. I felt another body take the seat next to mine and instantly knew who it was. Just by his smell.
 
 
"Hey love," Harry whispered running his hands through his wet curls. He probably hadn't time to shower at the school showers after lacrosse practice so did it at home.
 
 
"Hey babe," I whispered back, half listening to Bobby, half distracted by Harry's perfect hair. "Oh, babe huh? I like it." He said sending me a cheeky wink.
 
 
"Shut up," I said giving him a playful shove but before I made contact with him, he caught my hand and held it up to his face.
 
 
"You're wearing the ring I got you for your birthday," He said smiling, holding my hand closer to his face while I just smiled.
 
 
"Of course I am you idiot. Why wouldn't I be?" I questioned and I was being completely serious. The ring Harry had bought me for my birthday was a silver music note one. I still remember the exact moment and words Harry said when he gave it to me.
 
 
—Flashback—
 
 
Harry opened the box, took the ring out of the box and slid the ring on to my finger. He looked at me with those beautiful forest green eyes and kissed my ring that now resided on my left ring finger.
 
 
"This is a promise ring and my promise to you, my dear Amela, is that I will always be here for you. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. They'll come and go, but you and I. We're forever. Either as best friends, friends, acquaintances, or something more, I will never stop looking out for you," He said, with so much emotion in his voice.
 
 
"I chose this ring because I always told you how much I love music. How it's my life. How it has always kept me strong, through my parents’ divorce and everything. I was wrong though. Music kept me strong when I was younger...but that was just because I hadn't met you yet." He continued looking me dead straight in the eye.
 
 
"You're my music Amela. At the end of the day, no matter who I go out with. No matter whom I marry. You will always be my favorite girl." And with that he gave the ring another kiss.
 
 
"Always."
 
 
—Flashback Ended—
 
 
I smiled thinking of that day, and by the way Harry was smiling, I knew he was too. Harry pressed a gentle kiss on the ring, just like the first time he gave it to me. With his lips still on the ring he looked into my eyes and pulled away. He stood up quickly while I just looked at him with questioning eyes.
 
 
"I...have to go pick up Kendall. We are going on a date," He said awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He looked at the space beside me and at the cave entrance.
 
 
I knew what he was doing.
 
 
He was choosing. He was choosing between me and Kendall.
 
 
I knew who would win tough. The other girl always won.
 
 
Wanting to save myself the heartbreak of seeing him walk away from me, I made his choice easier. I stood up and brushed off my skinny jeans.
 
 
"Have fun," I sighed turning around and walking over to Perrie. I heard Harry sigh regretfully and walk towards the entrance.
 
 
I sat beside Perrie and laid my head on her shoulder. Perrie laid her head on mine.
 
 
"What did Harry do now?" Perrie questioned, rubbing my back soothingly.
 
 
"He picked her," I sighed. "It will always be her. Why can't it be me?" I questioned looking at the ring on my finger.
 
 
"Because he's an idiot and he doesn't deserve you," She said, sounding completely truthful.
 
 
 
"He just keeps breaking me. Again and again. The worse thing is though; I think he knows he is doing it. He just doesn't care...."

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