Girl Almighty

[Book 2 of My Baker Boy Series] One Direction has been famous since 2010. It's the summer of 2015, and Diana decided to take online classes before going back to the Indiana University campus. What happens when Diana Garcia unintentionally sees her baker boy once more, only this time under the spotlight? Will she embrace him once more, or will something far greater than her visions trap her behind a another barrier? Warning! Yellow—may contain some mature content. Cursing is not censored.
© Copyright 2015-2018. All rights reserved. I don't own the picture used to make the cover.


8. Taking the Windy City By Storm

Taking the Windy City By Storm



"You want me to what now?!" I was taken aback at how Niall, of all people, called me at 8 in the morning.

"That's right Diana," Niall said happily. "The rest of the U.S. and even our U.K. tour. What do you say?" I didn't know at first if I really wanted to go. My heart said yes, but my mind said otherwise.


"It sounds great Niall," I twisted a strand of my hair. "But what about my studies? I take online classes at Indiana University."


"As long as there's Wi-Fi and you pay attention to time zones, you'll be alright." I was going to stop there, but my mind was persistent. It kept making up questions to see if there was a possibility that I couldn't go.


"I'm a diabetic. I take insulin shots from time to time."


"Don't worry. We always have something on the bus to snack on. Besides, we told management."


"Can I bring along Chelsea?" I'm assuming no, but my mouth keeps blurting out shit I don't want to ask.


"Sorry. Management gave the OK for just one guest on tour. If we were going for two, we would have to get on our knees and cry. Again. Also, probably have to give up an organ while we're at it."


I couldn't contain my laughter after that last sentence. I was laughing so hard that I fell on the floor. I moved the phone away, so my loud laughter wouldn't hurt Niall's ear. "Oh God Niall, are you serious?"


He chuckled. "That's the entertainment industry for ya. So was that a yes?" 


"I guess so," I rose from my bedroom floor. "But I need to check with my parents first if they're okay with me leaving for a while."


"Fair enough. I'll talk to you later. I have to go get Harry from the tour bus." 


First of all, I couldn't believe my ears. I had the biggest opportunity of my life right here. Going on tour with quite possibly the best boy band in the world. This completely overwhelmed me. I was going on tour. I was going to see Harry. Oh God. Harry. "Niall, wait!" I gripped my phone tighter as I said it. "Does Harry know?"


"Nope. As far as Harry knows, his request to Modest! was denied." He paused for a bit. "I have to go wake him up. He's still asleep in the tour bus. Text me later if your parents said yes." 


"Alright. Thanks Niall."




I am going on tour with One Direction. One fucking Direction. I am going to see Harry.


Oh God. 


I am going to see Harry.

My eyes closed shut and I fell back onto my queen-sized bed. 




And that's when I ran onto stage and hugged him. “Harry! I missed you so much.” I buried my head into his chest. Faint smells of sweat and cologne could be smelled from his white T-shirt. He lifted my chin up.

“I missed you t-”




We separated from each other. Oh no. Not this again. Everything in the stadium froze around us. I need to get out of here, I thought. The hooded figure lifted her hands, causing the floor from behind me to open wide. Harry kept getting closer, but I was pushing him away.

“Don't touch me.”

He questioned it, but it was too late. I stumbled and fell into the hole. I screamed for Harry, but he just stood there, not doing much of anything.



That vision is getting stronger. It was just a recurring dream and now it's attacking me while I'm conscious. I ran down the hallway and went into the laundry room. It was my dad's turn to do laundry, but considering the circumstances every time he washes our clothes, my mom was in there as well. Just in case. "Oh come on Jennifer! I think I can do this myself this time."


"Raymond, last time all the colors were covered in dark dye."


"How was I supposed to know not to wash denim jeans with colors?"


"Mom said to wash jeans with dark colors dad." I made my presence known as I was watching them argue about the care for our clothes. My dad acts like such a kid sometimes. It's doesn't bother me as much, considering he is my dad. But sometimes he is rather obnoxious with his complaints. 


"Oh sure, take your mother's side." He crossed his arms and began to pout. 


I sighed. "Dad, I don't care about the laundry. I have something to tell you both." Here goes nothing. "OneDirection invitedmetogo ontourwiththem." I said quickly, looking down at the floor. 


"What? Sweet heart, slow down." My mom said. 


"You're going on tour with who?" My dad was able to pick up what I said more than my mom did.


"One Direction." 


After giving a summary of the reason how I am even at all linked to this British boy band, my dad was thrown off by all of this, a little sad even. Of course I wouldn't tell him about dating Harry; he would have flipped. However, his mind was still focused with laundry. "Yeah, I guess you can go on tour with them." He said while loading in the washer all of the colors.


My mom was another story. I would have guessed that my dad would be the one who was uncertain about me traveling across the U.S. and U.K. with four boys. She was quiet the entire time I explained the situation to them. We talked about it for a while, but my mom was stubborn into agreeing. “I don't know dear,” she was pouring detergent into the washer, unaware that my dad just poured some in. “What about your visions? Do they know that you're diabetic?”


“Jen, I think our daughter is old enough to take care of herself. She's 21 for crying out loud.” My mom turns toward me.


“Will you please make sure to take your insulin on time? And to eat regularly?”


I rolled my eyes a bit. “Yes mom, I can do that. Jeez, you're acting worse than Chelsea.”


My dad began to laugh to which my mother smacked him in the head. “Hey, she said it. Not me.”


In the end, I got the answer that I might have wanted: yes. I mean, I kinda want to go on tour with One Direction- oh who am I kidding? I desperately want to go. I want to get to know the other boys a little bit more. And maybe, just maybe...


Spend time with Harry?


At around three in the afternoon, I got a text from Niall.


From: Niall

can you make it after all?

*received at 3:05 PM*




*sent at 3:06 PM*



awesome we'll see you in Chicago

do you have a ride to Chicago?

*received at 3:07 PM*



I could ask someone to drive me up there

what time do you guys want me there? 

*sent at 3:07 PM*



send me your address.

we'll send ya a pass that lets you in the stadiums we'll be performing in

make sure you're there before 4:23

that's around the time we finish sound check

someone will help you get there

btw dont tell harry anything 

*received at 3:10 PM*


After texting Niall my address I sat cross legged on the sofa in the living room. My mind flooded itself with various thoughts. I have no idea how I'm going to prepare for this tour. There's so much to do! First, I need to pack enough insulin to last me about two months. Second I need to pack my suitcase so it lasts me about two months. Oh God. Because I'm going with 1D across the US and UK, I have to pack for the warm and cool weather. Third- Hey...

Who's taking me to Chicago?

Even though my health is my top priority, how am I going to get to the Windy City? I was going to go back to the laundry room, but my parents were arguing. "RAYMOND! Why the hell did you not tell me that there was already detergent in the washing machine?! Now there's bubbles all over the floor!"


"Hey! It's not my fucking fault Jenny! You were the one who didn't trust me and added more detergent to the wash!"


Maybe I should ask someone else. "Mom! Dad! I'm going to Chelsea's!"


"Okay!" They simultaneously yell.


I went back to my room. I took my cross body purse and my phone from the vanity. Looking at my reflection, I faked a smile. "Let's hope she'll say yes."

When I arrived, Chelsea was in the midst of making an ice cream sundae. “Sure. I'll take you.” I sighed in relief. I let her finish making her sundae as I explained what was going on in my little world. She offered to make me one, but I refused. She made me one anyway. We were now sitting in her elegant but small dining room. “I do have a question though,” She stuck her spoon into her sundae. “Are you sure that you want to go? I'm not against you going- but let's be real. Are you sure it won't be awkward? Harry's your ex.” 

I stopped eating my ice cream and looked directly at Chelsea. She's fucking right. Harry Styles is my ex. Being engulfed by the fact that we're texting each other never made me sit down and realize what we are. Friends? Rekindled old flame that technically shouldn't have burnt out?

In the end, it shouldn't matter if he was my first kiss or my first boyfriend. “Harry is just Harry. Famous or not, he was and still is the best thing that's ever happened to me. And in a couple of weeks, I'm going to see him.”

Watch out Chicago.


I'm taking you by storm.



I’m walking aimlessly around the dressing room in nothing but my pajamas. I glance at my phone. Again? Each time I locked my iPhone after finding no new messages, my heart broke a little. The tour is probably the only thing that uplifts my spirits. I think everyone around me has noticed my mood at least once. Anyone who asks me if I’m alright usually brushes it off as soon as I mention writing songs. No one is quick to realize that I’ve been moping about Diana not texting me for a fortnight. I sighed for the fifth time today. When will the suffering end? I walk into the dressing room and collapsed on a nearby sofa. “I’m miserable!” Suddenly, my face was covered by a t-shirt.

“Misery won’t help you get dressed for tonight’s show, Harry.” I removed the shirt from my face and glanced around.

“Where is everyone Daizha?”


“The rest of the boys were dressed and went backstage to sit and work on songs,” she handed me the rest of my outfit. “Where have you been? Lover’s lane?”


“No…” I put on the white V-neck. “Is it that noticeable?”


“Duh,” she turns around as I dropped my pajama bottoms to the floor. “Do you want to talk about it?”


“Daizha, do you think I’m annoying?”


“No. Sometimes you’re a pain in the ass, but not annoying.”


I pulled up my black skinny jeans. “Very funny.” I picked up my pajama bottoms and folded them.


“This wouldn’t happen to be about that girl, would it?” Daizha took my pajama bottoms as I sat down to put on my shoes.


“Yes. She hasn’t been texting me for a while. What if she’s – dating someone else?” I cringed at the very words.


“Geez Haz,” She got up from the sofa. “Don’t beat yourself up. Maybe she’s busy.”


“Yeah, maybe.” Daizha sat down again and pulled me in to whisper in my ear. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, okay? But I think Niall’s been a little sketchy lately. A little too – secretive.” She got up again and ran to the doorway of the dressing room. Looking back, she raised an eyebrow at me. “What are you waiting for Styles? Go write songs and get ready for tonight!” I grinned.


“Yes ma’am!” I got up from the sofa and stretched. Hmm… Niall’s a bit sketchy?

As I headed backstage, it struck me. Niall has been acting strange, ever since the show in Pittsburgh. Come to think of it, every time we finish sound check, recording songs, concerts, or even writing songs, Niall tends to distance himself from me. I finally got backstage and found my band mates sitting at a small square table in the middle of well, backstage. Just as I suspected—no one is working on songs of course, since our show is in a couple of hours. Louis and Liam were quietly playing cards, while Niall was glued to his phone.

“Any sevens?” Liam asked.


“Go fish, Payne.” Louis replied.


“I think you’re lying Louie.” I said as I pulled out a chair and sat down.

Louis and Liam look up from their card game, each giving me a sympathetic look. I guess my mood has been a tad obvious. On the other hand, Niall seemed aloof. He keeps trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. I decided that I would avoid asking any questions and just took out my phone, a small notepad, and a pen from my back pockets. Unlocking my phone, I opted for checking my messages with Twitter and going to my profile. It always astonishes me how so many people follow me. Am I that great to follow? I tapped on ‘following’ and then tapped on her profile. I gasped.

Diana Marie Garcia Styles (@DMG94) tweeted:

Going out tonight. Looking for a man. ;)


I guess that explains pretty much what I’ve been speculating about. I locked my phone and placed it on the table. Then I laid my head down, hearing Liam and Louie finish their game.

“Any queens?”


“Damn. Here.”


“I win! Pay up Tommo!”


“You little shit. Okay. Here’s 60 dollars.”

 From the corner of my eye, I could see Niall holding his phone, frantically checking his phone like I was a little while ago. It hit me.

That’s what Daizha’s been referring to! I raised my head from the table. “Hey Niall.”


And just like that he drops his phone on the floor. “Shit…” He murmurs. “Yeah?” he picks up his phone that miraculously didn’t break. “Something the matter, Harry?”


“Who you-” One of the new tech guys came over and told us that the mics were ready and set up for sound check. Talk about timing.


“How about you tell me after sound check. Okay?”


“No! I want answers!”

Niall glanced down at his phone. “It can wait Harry. Trust me.” Liam and Niall go on ahead, leaving me and Louis alone.

“You know you can trust Niall.” He patted my back. “Maybe tonight’s show will be great.”


I scoffed. “So you know what Niall’s been up to?”


“Not important!” Louis goes near the stage. “First one to their mic gets to pick what we’re having for dinner after the show!”

I smiled and shook my head. I don’t know what it is about Louis, but he always manages to get my mind off of things. Too bad I didn’t want to run to the stage. I went back to the table and pick up my belongings. I stuffed the notepad and the pen into my pocket, and tweeted out something on my phone.


You (@Harry_Styles) tweeted:

Chicago, we’re taking you by storm tonight. x –H


I walked out on stage, one of the spotlights nearly blinding me. Funny. I thought I would be used to being under all these lights by now. “Harry, where you been mate?” Liam asked while doing that flippy trick with his microphone. How does he do that? I’ve tried and failed miserably every time. Even broke a mic once.

“Um. I went back for my phone.” Typical excuse.


“Whatever Hazza,” Louis handed me my mic and my earpieces. “All I know is that we’re going for deep dish pizza after the show!”


“DEEP DISH PIZZA?!” Niall shouts into the mic, making it screech afterwards.


“Damn it Niall!” Louis rubs his temples.


Niall shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, at least the mics work.”





Hey guys I revised chapter 8 and decided to add this about Harry in Chicago about two weeks later. Just sounded better. If you've read this before, I suggest going back and reading it again. 



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