Up All Night

Marlene snuggled down further under the blanket, her feet curled up beneath her as she rested on the couch, watching the X Factor. Sipping her hot chocolate, the steam rising in pearly opaque swirls, she had to admit the boys were talented.

It still bugged her slightly that she couldn’t place Louis’ face, but she didn’t let it faze her too much. She was glad that Isobel was out to dinner with a friend – it gave Marlene some space, and let her watch the show with her cousin trying to figure out how she knew Louis.

Snow fell softly down outside, and Marlene tore her gaze from the program to watch the cold, white snowflakes cover the ground. She shivered just watching the icy flakes, and was quite glad she’d spike her hot chocolate with a small amount of the cognac she had found in her aunt’s cupboard. She felt a bit guilty about it – mostly because she had used the alcohol without asking, because she had turned eighteen a few months prior – and vowed to buy her aunt a new bottle as soon as possible.

Marlene hated the cold, and was glad she was inside rather than out with Isobel. Her cousin had invited her, but Marlene had argued that if she didn’t stay home tonight and watch the X Factor episodes that Isobel had taped for her, she would never watch them. To be honest, Marlene was getting a little tired of her cousin. Isobel’s frenetic, excitable energy was endearing most of the time, but the elder cousin was quickly learning that she couldn’t stand it for prolonged periods of time. It reminded her too much of those insane Justin Beiber fangirls she so despised.

She missed Harry. This trip hadn’t been the same without him and in a few weeks she was going home, back to the summer, sun and surf. Going home with only a few hours in Harry’s company. It made her quite sad. Ann Cox – Faith Evenson’s only sibling – was Marlene’s only aunt on her mother’s side, and in Marlene’s eyes, her only aunt. She couldn’t care less about her relative’s on her father’s side. Harry, to put it simply, was Marlene’s absolute favourite relative – even if she only had three to choose from. The two of them got along famously, and her annual trip to England just wasn’t the same without Harry there by her side. Still, she refused to begrudge him his shot at stardom, and that’s why she found herself curled up on the sofa, spiked hot chocolate in hand, watching every single episode of this year’s X Factor, as outside, snow covered the land.

The next few hours passed in a haze of singing, screaming – from the television audience – and boo’s from Marlene as the judges insulted a performance she had liked. She was drinking her fourth spiked hot chocolate and half-heartedly considering not spiking her next one, when her phone buzzed. Glancing down, the caller ID picture told her Harry was calling.

“Styles!” she answered, a bit more enthusiastically than she had intended. Maybe I really should stop pouring cognac into my hot chocolate – it’s effecting me already!
On the other end, her cousin laughed. “Hey Mars, whatcha doing?”

“Watching your past performances on X Factor,” she replied, downing the last of her drink. “Hey Styles, y’know something? This is the first year in a long time where you haven’t been here. I miss you, Styles.” Her voice was tinged with sadness, and Harry’s sounded very similar when he replied.

“I know, Mars. It’s terrible. We’ve ruined our tradition. Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Marlene giggled. “Yeah! Get famous and bring me on tour. Then I can marry one of your bandmates and Mum’ll stop telling me to enroll in uni. It’ll make everyone happy!”

Harry laughed. “I can see you’ve been drinking. Hold on, I’ll put you on speaker and then we’ll see if any of ‘em want to marry you.”

There was a few seconds of silence, then a crackling sound, and Harry’s voice echoed slightly as he told his band mates of Marlene’s (joke) plan.

“I’ll do it!” A voice said. Marlene recognized it to be Zayn’s. It wasn’t surprising that she was able to tell the voices apart – she had just watched nearly three hours of footage the boys.

“No way, man! I get the girl!” Niall’s Irish accent was thick even on speakerphone. Marlene giggled softly. She wouldn’t mind marrying the Irishman – he was rather attractive.

“Liam?” Harry asked.

“Nah, got a girlfriend, mate. Sorry Marlene!” Liam replied, sounding not in the least bit sincere.

“Louis?”

There was a moment of silence, and Marlene found she was holding her breath. Then:

“Yeah, why not? I mean, we got along great at the coffeehouse, and she seemed to recognize me from somewhere.” There was a loud crackle as the boys laughed. “Yeah, I’ll marry you Marlene. We could live in a cottage somewhere with the rabbits and the birds as our friends!”

The girl snorted derisively. “So now I have three marriage proposals? I said ONE, dammit Styles! I don’t know if I’m cut out for polygamy!”

Everyone laughed, and Marlene smiled to herself. “I’m seeing you all next week, right? Same time, same place?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “Can’t wait. I’m sure Zayn, Niall and Louis will bowl you over with their proposals and reasons as to why you should marry them.”

Marlene rolled her eyes, laughing. “Superb. Isobel’s gonna love that! Alright, I’m gonna go and finish watching this show until I’m all caught up. I’ll tell you what I think next time I see you all. Love you Styles!”

“Love you Mars,” Harry replied as the other boys yelled ‘LOVE YOU!’ boisterously. “Say ‘hi’ to ‘Bels for me.”

“I will. Good luck cousin,” Marlene replied, pressing the end call button and basking in the afterglow of the conversation. It was easily the stupidest, funniest and most absurd phone call she had ever had, but there was no denying that her heart had fluttered slightly when Niall and Louis had agreed to marry her – albeit jokingly. They were both attractive, funny and didn’t annoy Marlene like most other boys. If she were anybody but herself, Marlene would diagnose this little heart trill as the first sign of a developing crush.

Yet as Marlene settled down to watch the rest of the X Factor, she blamed the rise in body temperature and the flutter of the heart on the alcohol she had consumed.

The last time Marlene had liked a boy was in sixth grade, and the crush had lasted three hours during Grade Six camp. It was absurd to think she was developing any kind of crush on Niall or Louis.

After all, she’d only met both boys once. And there was absolutely, positively, completely no way she’d ever like two boys at the same time!