Sleeping With a Liar

The four boys surrounding him just looked confused. Jordan looked almost angry with him. She really was, he had left six months ago for tour without saying a single word of goodbye; he had just left. Left Ireland, left the United Kingdom, and was gone.

Jordan was bitter, to say the least.

“Jordan?” he whispered.

“Niall,” she hissed, arms folded across her chest.

“Why are you mad?” he asked, looking at her.

His blue eyes were always her weakness. When he looked at her, she felt like he was looking into her soul and she had no escape. She took a step away.

“You forgot leaving without saying goodbye, and proceeding to not even try to talk to me for the next six months? And now you just expect it all to be better?!” she asked harshly.

At this point the other four members had backed up, leaving Niall to fight it out with the girl that they didn’t know. All they knew was that she was some famous eighteen-year-old Irish author who had done an interview that morning, and apparently she and Niall had a history.

“Says the one who changed her cell phone number!” Niall shot back.

He looked over the small girl in front of him. Her blonde hair was messily tied back in a bun, as always, and large black glasses sat on top of her nose. The whites of her eyes were slightly red, though still the same shade of green they always were. Streaks of dark brow filled her hair now, and she wore a small amount of makeup that she never used to. Something had changed about his carefree best friend since they had last seen each other. Something had clicked in her mind since they had been out buying that apartment together.

Her petite frame was clad in grey skinny jeans full of zippers and several patches, and a cut off Asking Alexandria shirt hung from her shoulders, showing her toned stomach and the new piece of jewelry hanging from her navel. The shirt was covered with words, though Niall could pick out the words ‘Oh my fucking god’, a phrase Jordan used quite often.

From hip to hip he could see the familiar tattoo that he had gone with her to get on her seventeenth birthday. It had been his birthday as well, though he opted out of the tattoo. He knew those words all too well, ‘Have faith in me’. The lyrics to her favourite song, as well as the first song she had ever sang in front of him. She hated singing in front of people. As far as he knew, he was the only one to have ever heard her actually sing.

“I gave you the new one you idiot,” Jordan mumbled, flipping the dream catcher hanging from her stomach around.

“Oh…” Niall sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

Jordan bit her lip. Niall was such a fucking idiot sometimes. He never knew what to do. His blonde hair was just as bleached as ever, and all of it was probably dead by now from the amount of dye and hair product that was being used in his hair on a regular basis. The boy standing in front of her wasn’t her Niall, the carefree Irish boy who sang all the time, he was the pop star Niall who was in front of the cameras and trying not to cause a scene. He was failing quite miserably.

“Jordan O’Hara, I’m sorry I was such an idiot for the past six months,” Niall mumbled, “Will you be my best friend again?”

His eyes. Jordan tried to look away, anywhere but in his crystal blue eyes. She knew she would never be able to say no if he kept looking at her. They were two feet apart now; Jordan was staring at her sneakers, which were suddenly the most interesting things in the world. The marker that covered them was smudging from tromping through the rain on various occasions. She examined them closer. On the fabric of the toe, next to the coffee stain, there was a messy sharpie marker signature. It was Niall’s. He had signed them for her the first time they saw each other during filming of the X Factor. She said she always wanted to remember him, even when he got famous. He said he’d never be famous, and he’d always be her Niall first.

Niall reached out, tilting Jordan’s head up towards him so he could see her eyes again. They were the perfect piercing green that he remembered them to be. They looked exactly the same as the photo of the two of them when they were sixteen that he kept in his bunk. Jordan was grinning; a new copy of her favorite book in her hand, and Niall had his lips pressed against her cheek, a large smile on his face as well.

“Fine,” Jordan muttered, letting Niall pull her into his arms.

Holding her tightly in his arms, Niall didn’t want to let go. If she was ever this mad at him again he didn’t know what he would do. At this point, he had completely forgotten about his band mates in the corner, that is, until Louis started clapping slowly.

“What the hell just happened?” he asked, shaking his head as Niall let go of his best friend, though still help a firm grip on her hand. She didn’t like radio stations. She always complained about them.

“Long story,” Niall laughed, shaking his head. He’d tell them another time. It was time for their set.

As they finished their songs, Jordan managed to sneak out, dragging Diane with her so she could get home. She wanted to be home.

Arriving at her apartment ten minutes later, Jordan practically ran from the car into her apartment, locking the door behind her. Seeing Niall was more then she could handle today. She looked around the small room, feeling the cool breeze coming from outside, she changed, and settled down in her bed, taking in the scene around her.

Nothing in the room had a place; it was all chaotic and unorganized. Although Jordan seemed to know where everything was when she needed it, nobody else would ever be able to find a thing within the stacks of books. While there were many books Jordan could never seem to locate within the large bookcases, as much as she insisted she could if needed, there was one book she could grab with her eyes closed.

The worn out paperback was a permanent fixture on the top bookshelf to the left of her desk. It was one of the few books that had a special place in the walls of bookshelves that surrounded the cramped apartment. Everything else in the apartment was chaotic, from the mint green kitchen cabinets with chipping paint and glass doors, to the small twin bed in the corner, piled high with stuffed animals and pillows. In that entire apartment, one thing had a place. The small copy of Catcher in the Rye was full of small tears and marks from many years of being read, and a small note in the cover.

Jordan,

I'm sorry I dropped your book in the creek, but I hope maybe this will make up for it.

With love,
Niall

He was the one that made that book special, even when she felt as if he had forgotten her, he was still special to her.