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My Only Direction: Chapter 15

“Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of hours, okay?” Soph tried to say as soothingly as possible, watching Adam slowly shake his head with round, fearful eyes. “It’s going to be fine, Adam. Everything is sorted. Everything will run smoothly.”

“Except it’s a party and the only music on offer will be people’s iPods and a pair of Bose speakers.” Adam muttered with a petrified, false laugh.

It was the day of the graduation party that Adam was meant to be hosting at Westminster and he’d never been more scared in his life. Everything was pointing towards disaster. Adam didn’t care if his classmates were some of the smartest boys in the country. They were idiots. Somebody with a nut allergy was going to eat something with nuts in. The girls’ academy wasn’t going to show up. And even though Adam had never really cared about social standing, he was going to named a social pariah and then killed in his sleep.

Soph, on the other hand, was only watching her little brother with mild amusement. Everything was running smoothly. The school had agreed to handle outside catering in the kitchens adjoining to the Assembly Hall, with the guarantee that a team of class-A cleaners – paid within the budget Adam had been given – would have it ready for Monday, or even Saturday Assembly for the boarders. Adam’s best friend’s older brother, William, a family friend of theirs, had opted to handle music. It wasn’t ideal and the Westminster kids were snobby about that kind of thing, but ultimately it was still just music.

Adam and Soph’s parents had offered to make an appearance. Really, though, it was Soph who was going to be chaperoning the whole thing. It wasn’t official and really she was just there for moral support for Adam so he didn’t start scratching his teeth and having a coronary, but telling Adam that would just invoke paranoia that Soph didn’t think he could do it.

“Adam, you’re making my car smell of crazy talk.” Soph said firmly. “Either get out and speak like a madman out there, or sit in my car and praise the glory that are in-built Bose speakers.” Adam opened his mouth to talk, but Soph got there first, knowing what he was about to say. “And before you tell me Bose is crap, as proven by being in my car, I’d like to remind you this Porsche has been dropping you off to school every day. Don’t hate.”

“Fine.” Adam sighed, running a hand through his messy, dark hair. He seemed to think for a moment. “You must be excited. The boys being back next week.” Adam paused, as Soph fell quiet. “Zayn.”

“Okay, Adam, that’s enough.” Soph suddenly snapped. It was one thing for her to have stuff going on in her head, but anybody else voicing it was just not on. Soph wasn’t ready for that yet. She was still squishing these undeveloped feelings that she couldn’t name. “What point are you trying to make here? What, that I don’t spend enough time with you when they’re here? Is that it?”

“No-” Adam began to say, his eyes widening at the sudden change of his sister’s mood.

“Well, what then?” Soph demanded. “You keep dropping hints, but I don’t know what I’m meant to make of them. We’ve always said we’ll be honest with each other, so whatever it is you want to say, just say it, goddamnit.” Adam opened his mouth, but Soph shook her head. “And don’t even think about saying the pressure of this stupid party is getting to you, that’s no excuse.”

Adam thought for a moment.

“I saw that folder on your computer.” Adam admitted quietly. “Of when you all went out to dinner, to Nando’s.”

“Adam, we’re always at Nando’s, Niall inhales their food, you’re going to need to specify a bit more.” Soph said crossly.

“Rose’s first night in London.” Adam continued. “There’s this picture-”

“My desktop background at work, yeah.” Soph nodded slowly. “It’s a slideshow of loads of stuff, you’re in there, too.”

“That’s not it.” Adam sighed. “I... I found the whole file. All of the pictures that you all took.”

“You searched through my folders?” Soph gasped, outraged. “My folders at work? What the Hell do you think you’re playing at, Adam? What, you don’t trust me now?”

“No, no, it’s not that!” Adam said quickly, getting desperate. “It’s just... I just thought they were nice, but I saw one of Zayn looking at you and-”

“Oh my God.” Soph muttered, covering her face with her hands. “Not you too.”

“No, let me just say-”

“No, Adam, you’ve said enough!” Soph said loudly, running her nails through her thick dark hair. “Look. I love you and I understand you’re just... Curious-”

“It’s not that!”

“- but Adam, I think sometimes you forget that you’re eleven.” Soph sighed, nudging Adam’s arm gently. “Look, I know what it must look like, but honestly, Zayn and I... It’s...” Soph struggled to find the words.

“Complicated?” Adam offered hopefully.

“Ha, nice try.” Soph smirked. “No. He’s just very... Confused. He has more mood swings than a bipolar person.”

“Because he’s half-white, or because he’s batshit?” Adam snorted, sounding more unimpressed by the minute. He knew what he’d seen.

“Haha, both!” Soph laughed. “And language, you!”

Adam smiled at Soph for a minute, before sighing.

“But you still think about him a lot?” Adam pushed. “More than you feel you should? You know, if Mum and Dad-”

“That’s my problem, not yours.” Soph told her little brother seriously, messing up his hair. Adam tried to put on a brave face, to pretend he understood, but he’d never felt more confused in his life. “I’m not going anywhere, honey, okay? I’m not running away-”

“Has he asked you to?” Adam asked sharply.

“No.” Soph shook her head. “No, it’s not like that.” She pushed a reassuring smile on her face. Sometimes, she wished Adam and her were the same age – it would have made their relationship easier for everybody else to understand. But in that moment, Soph was glad Adam wasn’t. If he had been, he’d be able to be sure when Soph was faking her smile or not. As it happened, Soph had ten years’ worth of practice over him. “I’m just reassuring you. Whatever is going on in my messed up head-”

“You’re not messed up.” Adam said tiredly.

“- it’s my problem.” Soph made Adam face her properly. “I mean it, Adam. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever it is I have to deal with, that’s for me to worry about. Nothing is going to change. A jumped-up Bradford boy with an attitude problem and an identity crisis isn’t going to stop me being with you.”

Adam nodded slowly. He knew what his father was like and he should have had more confidence in Soph to know that she did, too. After all, she’d known him longer and Adam knew there was more history between his big sister and his father than Adam wanted to know. Their father wasn’t the liberal type, to let Soph date or hang out with boys, which is why he under-classed Soph’s profession so much, even if he’d pretended to encourage it at first.

The mere thought of Soph anything other than either entirely virginal or married was an unviable concept to their father. If he thought for a second Soph was “messing around” – which he’d assume if he thought she liked someone, or was even just liked – he’d have her shipped off to Pakistan. That threat had never really bothered Soph until Adam had been born. Her little brother was everything to her and her father knew that. Adam was Soph’s weakness and considering their father had fought long and hard to try and find one in Soph, he exploited it.

It was easy to mistrust Soph. She was young, she was attractive, she was clever. She’d has issues as a teenager and had been dubbed the “rebellious” one, because she hadn’t been afraid to speak her mind against the hypocrisy that was her father’s so-called justice. On one hand, her father was protective because he’d been a Jack-the-Lad in his teenage days. But on the other hand, he thought Soph must’ve promoted it in some way. The amount of times she’d been “caught”, moments in innocent acts that had been taken out of context, was unreal. As a result, no matter how much her father and her played nice, there was always that niggling fear for the both of them.

For her father – she was lying, playing with his honour and making a ridicule of his father’s name. For Soph – she’d be accused of being a whore, she’d be sent away, she’d be forced to live a life that, without Adam, wouldn’t be worth living.

Soph knew exactly what Adam was scared of. And she wasn’t upset that he’d lost faith in her; because he hadn’t.

But what troubled Soph was Adam gave her a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug before he left the car and headed into the Academy, was that he thought Zayn – of all people – had the potential to tempt her.

“- and then Dee still went out with him after that, so those two are fighting.” Ryan sighed happily. “It’s so good to hear your voice though, Rose.”

Rose said nothing.

She’d been avoiding talking to Ryan for the past few weeks and things had gotten so bad, short of saying “aliens abducted my cell phone”, there were no plausible excuses left to not talk to him. What made it marginally worse was how Liam was sitting opposite her, listening to every word, stroking the back of Rose’s hand encouragingly.

What was she doing?

Wordlessly, Rose pulled her hand away and left the room, the phone still pressed to her ear.

“Rose?” Ryan asked nervously, hearing nothing.

“Wait.” Rose told him, before storming out into the balcony. The Spanish down beat down on her face and Rose let it sink in – into her hair, her cheeks, her closed eyelids. She tried to imagine pulling strength from it, like a superhero. She so fucking wished she was a superhero. She’d need to be, to deal with it all. “Ryan? Are you still there?” Rose asked, keeping her eyes squeezed firmly shut, as the sunlight filtered down her neck and through the thin fabric of her blouse.

“Yeah, everything okay?” Ryan asked her sunnily. Rose sighed. She had to do this. She’d strung him along long enough. “The reception is better.” Ryan noted, trying to keep the tone light.

It was just then that Harry came into the balcony, stretching and yawning loudly, in nothing but a pair of boxers and his Ray Bans, ruffling his hair as he did so. He saw Rose and instantly mouthed an apology – but after a moment, Rose hesitated and motioned for him to stay.

He’d taken a nap after their acoustic session and now Harry still had a whole day stretched out before him. In a way, that depressed him. Within a few days, he’d have a whole week waiting for him, to have “time off”. But when they weren’t performing- which was something they all loved anyway – that’s what they did. Harry pondered as he sat in a deck-chair whether his life was aimless or not. After all, he just sang with the others. It was the record company that had the sales targets and PR meetings and deadlines to meet.

“Ryan, it’s about Liam.” Rose said resolutely, cringing as she was welcomed by a sharp intake of breath on Ryan’s side of the line. Harry pulled his Ray Bans down and glanced at her. She was in a pair of shorts, a white, linen blouse that – Harry noted with polite interest – was fairly see-through and a pair of flip-flops. Her hair was out and she was currently fiddling with it.

Harry gave her a tentative thumbs-up, the sign to check everything was okay. Rose sighed and shook her head and Harry felt himself become surprised as Rose walked over to him and sat on the armrest of his chair.

“Rose, we probably shouldn’t-”

“No, Ryan, we have to.” Rose interrupted, sounding more beseeching than she’d originally intended. “Why are we both pretending?”

“Just say it.” Harry mouthed beside her. “Word vomit. Bleurgh. Just say it.”

“Liam isn’t gay and I’ve been cheating on you with him.” Rose suddenly blurted out, glancing at Harry, before resting her head in her hands. Hearing it like that, so bluntly, made the reality of what she’d done hit home. “And God, Ryan, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re just lonely-” Ryan began to say in a low voice, but Rose interrupted her, Harry watching her intently.

“No, Ryan, please, just stop.” Rose begged. “I thought I was meant to choose you. We’ve been friends for so long and you’re such a great guy, but-”

“But something better came along?” Ryan said bitterly. Rose exhaled deeply, surprised that the tears in her eyes weren’t as forceful as she’d expected. “Is that it? I’m such a good guy, but I was second-best? You settled for me, because until you met Liam, you didn’t think you could do any better?”

“No-” Rose said lamely, glancing at Harry desperately. Harry just watched her, a concentrated expression on his face. He couldn’t understand how strong she was being. Not about dumping Ryan, but about the fact that yes, she’d basically been a ho. Not that she was a whore, Harry amended. But that was the label that came with cheating on someone and Harry, Rose, Liam and Ryan all knew that.

“How can you fucking do this to me?” Ryan demanded. “Jesus, Rose! You’ve been gone for months now, fucking months! And I’ve been sitting here like some punce, waiting for you!”

“Punce?” Harry mouthed, confused. Rose shook her head at him.

“Do you think it’s fun? Do you think it’s easy? I’m proud to say my girlfriend is a make-up artist with a headlining act, but then to say she never calls, she never texts, she never visits? Fuck, Rose! You lied to my sister’s face!”

“I didn’t want you to find out that way!” Rose said desperately.

“And this is any fucking better?” Ryan swore. The crease between Harry’s eyebrows deepened as he watched Rose take Ryan’s anger on her shoulders, her head bowed. “Sarah’s been feeling so fucking guilty because of you-”

“Sarah?” Rose repeated sharply. Harry watched the drama unfold in front of him. “What the fuck does she have to do with any of this?”

Despite swearing usually being a turn-off for Harry, he found that Rose swearing was quite the opposite. Why, she’d seemed so innocent before.

Ryan fell silent on the other side of the line.

“Wait a minute.” Rose’s anger faded as quickly as it came, hurt tainting her voice now instead. “You’re angry about me and Liam when you and- and my own sister-” Rose struggled to find words, as she felt anger building up in her chest again. “You’re sitting there, angry with me – when you knew about Liam’s feelings for me – when – when you fucking drongo-” Harry had given up on the Aussie slang. “- you’ve been with my little sister?”

Harry so hadn’t seen that coming. The little sister? Of all people?

“She’s not a filthy fucking whore like you-”

Harry couldn’t hear anymore. He plucked the phone out of Rose’s feeble hands and pressed “End Call”.

“I think that’s enough.” Harry said gently, frowning slightly at Rose’s eyes, filled with tears. “Don’t you?”

Rose could say nothing as her face crumpled with tears, her hands flying to her face. It was all so wrong. Her and Liam. Sarah and Ryan. All of it. It was all so wrong.

“Come here.” Harry murmured gently, pulling Rose by the arm into his lap. Like a child, Rose curled up against his warm body, his skin warm from the sunlight beaming down on them both. Harry stroked her hair gently, as she quietly sobbed. How had it all gone so wrong? And wasn’t Ryan right? Wasn’t she a filthy whore for doing this to him? “Where’s Liam?” Harry finally asked quietly.

Rose just shook her head. She didn’t want Liam seeing her like this. A small part of her brain wondered why she was then allowing Harry, Harry Styles of all people, to be there instead, but Rose put it down to not caring enough with Harry. And she didn’t want Liam seeing her like this and feeling guilty. It somehow felt natural for Harry, after all he’d tried to help her with, finally see the big finale, the big mess.

It was a few moments before Rose fully realized what she was doing; curled up on Harry Styles’ lap, crying in the sunlight. And even though a part of her didn’t want to move – she wanted to stay there until she knew what made sense again, until the truth of what she’d just been told had fully sunken in – Rose wiped her eyes and awkwardly pulled herself away, trying not to get tangled in Harry’s limbs.

Harry let her go. He felt bad for Rose. It wasn’t quite pity, but that was as close Harry could name it.

“Sorry.” Rose said, wiping her eyes as she stood, with a dry laugh. “You know, I think I need to-”

“Be left alone for a bit?” Harry finished for her, nodding in understanding as he stood up. He understood. He understood probably better than most people, the difference between loneliness and just needing to be alone. In a way, Harry felt cheated from the sudden gain and loss of companionship, but checked himself in place. This certainly wasn’t about him. “Tell you what, how about you sit here and I’ll go and get you a drink and your iPod?”

Rose looked up at him in surprise. It was like he’d read her mind.

“And take these.” Harry said, offering Rose the Ray Bans he’d been wearing. “You don’t want anybody to see those puffy eyes, do you? And I’ll keep mum, I promise!”

“Thank you.” Rose smiled through hot tears at Harry’s kindness, slipping the Aviators on. Harry’s famous sunglasses and she was probably going to leave them with tear marks from her mascara. “How do I look?” Rose asked with a small laugh.

“I’m weak at the knees.” Harry grinned, before pausing awkwardly for a moment, as their smiles faded. Hesitantly, Harry placed a gentle kiss on Rose’s forehead before walking away.

It had been an odd thing to do, he knew and he didn’t look back to see Rose’s stunned reaction. He just wanted her to feel... Hopeful again. It couldn’t be easy.

Harry walked through to Liam’s room, to find Liam patiently twiddling his thumbs on his bed. He’d figured Rose had needed some time and was waiting for her to come back. He knew she’d probably feel conflicted.

“Liam, a word of advice?” Harry found himself saying, slightly angrily, as Liam looked up at Harry in surprise. “If you steal a girl away from another guy, at least be there for her during the hard parts.”

Liam gazed at Harry, confused.

“What do you-”

“She’s outside.” Harry told him. “Take her a drink, take her iPod and give her a cuddle. Nobody wants to be alone after something like that.” And with that, Harry left the room, heading for the shower, leaving Liam stunned behind him.

Soph, Melissa, Lauren and a few others were eating lunch together in one of the rare moments when Vogue House was fairly quiet. They’d had a good night out last night – they’d gone to one of Soph’s favourite restaurants, Maroush Gardens, a Lebanese place in Holborn. It had been a good night out. There’d been live Arabic music and dancing and at one point, Melissa had gotten drunk enough to try it herself. Soph had it on video.

“George Clooney.” Soph nodded, taking a forkful of tuna pasta. “Definitely. Anyway, Angelina Jolie looks like the type who would probably keep a knife hidden up her vagina or something, in case she was in a fight.”

“Well, they do say Brad Pitt lost his balls when he married her.” Melissa muttered, making the girls laugh, Soph choking on her pasta and quickly taking a drink of her frappucino.

They all paused their laughter as Jade knocked awkwardly on the door.

“Sorry, Soph.” She apologized quickly. “There’s a call for you, it’s Adam?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Soph nodded, taking the phone and shooting Jade a quick, professional smile. “Hey, what’s up?”

“William can’t make it.” Adam said sadly. “Belinda made a surprise trip from Paris. Aunty Joce said he could still make it, but I told him not to worry, he should see his sister. Bose speakers it is. Can you bring yours in time?”

“My speakers are built into my car...” Soph said slowly. “Sorry, hun.”

“No, don’t worry about it.” Adam sighed sadly. “I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

“What are you going to do about the DJ?” Soph asked, feeling bad.

“I don’t know.” Adam sighed. “Catch you later.” Adam hung up.

Soph gave the phone back to Jade and carried on eating her lunch, joking with the girls. She felt bad. But there was no point dwelling on it now.

“You seen my charger?” Harry asked as Zayn helped himself to some bottled water, feeling fresher than before.

“What’s up with you?” Zayn asked, seeing Harry’s dark expression. “You look like you’re going to hit someone.”

“Just tired.” Harry muttered. “I was talking to Soph but the line went dead, my battery’s gone flat.” Harry said absently, rummaging through the drawers.

At the sound of Soph’s name, Zayn felt his insides churn a little. He wanted to know what she’d said and a powerful need to find out almost had Zayn toppling over.

“Oh, yeah?” Zayn settled on saying nonchalantly, his heart pounding in his chest. “Anything interesting?”

“She’s just feeling bad, Adam’s party hasn’t got a DJ.” Harry muttered. “For God’s sake, Louis! Have you nicked my charger again?” Harry sighed, frustrated, flipping his hair out of his face and muttering under his breath. “What time’s the show tonight?”

“It’s tomorrow, we’ve got that chat show tonight.” Zayn reminded him, his mind whirring. “Isn’t Soph’s brother a little young to be throwing parties?” Zayn hoped Harry would just take it as casual conversation. He needed to hear something about Soph. Anything.

“Some school thing, he goes to that place in Westminster... Preparatory? No, no Westminster Academy, that’s it.” Harry nodded to himself. “For God’s sake, Niall, Louis, which one of you wankers stole my charger?”

“So why’s Soph freaking out about it?” Zayn pushed, watching Harry intently.

“I don’t bloody know, my phone went dead!” Harry yelled, before wandering off, yelling abuse to whoever would listen for stealing his charger.

As Harry walked by the balcony, he saw Rose in Liam’s arms, just like she had been in his a few moments before.

Liam had been lovely. He’d told her that he’d taken her drink and iPod from Harry and was now holding her, despite her weak protests. But ultimately, she hadn’t wanted to be alone. And she was glad Liam was there to hold her.

“What do you need those for?” Liam asked, nodding towards the sunglasses Rose was wearing. “Do you want me to put them away?”

“Um...” Rose hesitated. “No.” She settled on saying, holding Liam to her tightly. “No, it’s okay.”

A few hours later

Soph had managed to get off of work a few hours early for Adam. She’d gone home, to find her parents. Now she wished she hadn’t bothered.

Soph was fuming.

It was official.

Her cousin had officially proposed.

She knew her creep of a cousin from Scotland had always had a thing for her and despite Soph’s best efforts to argue as much as possible with his mother, she’d had a voiced interest ever since Soph had been born. But the... Audacity to ask outright! And on the grounds that Soph wouldn’t find a suitable proposal anywhere else!

Her father had said it all very calmly, as if it were something to consider. Soph’s mother had exploded into a fit of rage at the idea before her father had even finished. Soph had realized this conversation had already been planned and thought out by her father, specifically for when she off-guard. Bastard.

“N-no!” Soph had spluttered. “I’m not doing it! No!”

“I said we’d consider it, like we would consider all inquiries.” Her father had said soothingly. “Only the family knows about this. To anybody else, we’ve just had an inquiry for you. Nothing else.”

Only the family! Her family in London alone covered at least sixty people!

“Well, I’ve considered it and the answer is no!” Soph had shouted furiously, outraged she was even being asked. She was barely out of university ten months, now! Not even a year! “I’m doing well. I’m twenty-one, I’ve just gotten out of uni and found my first job, why the Hell would I need to bloody well get married? Why would I even consider thinking about it?”

“Because you’re my daughter and I said you will.” Her father had said sharply. That had been the end of conversation – concerning Soph, anyway. Soph had left almost immediately after, cursing, to the sounds of her mother screaming at her father, scandalized that he could even consider marrying her precious daughter to that woman’s creep of a son!

Soph arrived at Westminster Academy later that evening, unsure of what to expect. She was in skinny black jeans, a pair of baby pink heels and a long, baby pink sweater. She hadn’t bothered to do anything to her hair – she’d pushed it messily into a ponytail, odd strands falling in front of her face. Aside from some natural coloured Bobbi Brown lip gloss and a light coat of mascara, Soph felt she looked no different to the way she had when she’d gone to work that morning in jeans and an Abercrombie sweatshirt.

“Looking for the graduation party?” Soph looked up to see a tall, beefy guy who looked like he could kill a person, standing at the gate. “It’s through there, on your left. Have fun chaperoning.”

Soph took the comment for sarcasm and so nodded and rolled her eyes.

As Soph stepped into the Assembly Hall, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

The traditional wooden benches and golden gilt walls were covered in the darkness, bright strobe lights catching the odd statues and official icons of the school as they did. Small tables were laid at the sides filled with food. Conversation between the Academy boys and girls was flowing and nobody looked uncomfortable, despite their tuxes. Chris Brown was crooning from what Soph presumed to be a borrowed Bose speaker somewhere.

She found Adam with a group his friends, waiting for her by the door.

“Hey!” He yelled excitedly, running over to Soph and hugging her tightly. Soph felt her anger bury itself deep from where Adam could see it. “I’m sorry for doubting you, oh my God, thank you so much, Chris Brown, I mean-”

“What are you-” Soph laughed, following where Adam motioned excitedly, to where somebody who looked scarily like Chris Brown was standing by some turn-tables on the pillar, security guards flanking him either side. “Wow, he’s a really good...” Soph stopped, taking in Adam’s bright face properly. “Oh my God, is that Chris Brown?! You have Chris Brown DJing?” Soph yelled, resisting the giant urge to slap herself.

“Oh, yeah, you’re funny, so modest.” Adam said, rolling his eyes. “You know what? I don’t even care. I don’t even care he’s following me on Twitter, or that my attempts to kill him have gone ignored. You have my blessing. You so have my blessing!”

“What are you talking about?” Soph laughed, feeling giddy off of Adam’s happiness.

“Look, I have to go, catch you later, okay?” Adam yelled over the screams of the youngsters, his friends pulling him away. “He’s waiting for you by the stage!”

Soph laughed in incredulity at Adam’s behaviour, before looking over to see what Adam had been talking about. At first, she didn’t get it.

And then she saw Zayn Malik leaning against the pillar, in jeans and his Jibba Jabba T-shirt, staring right at her.

#mod #mod15