Just Consider It

Once Avery's words got stuck in my head, they wouldn't leave. I spent nearly every waking moment thinking about Niall, wondering if he was sleeping with other girls, and then wondering why I cared. He'd said himself that we didn't have to date, that we could just hang out and do cutesy couple things but we didn't have to date.

So why did it matter?

When I voiced this concern, Maggie said, without looking up, "Maybe you're going soft, Hero."

"I'm not," I snapped. "I just . . . it's bothering me now, that's all."

"Well then maybe, instead of complaining to me, you should go talk to him." She looked up. "It's okay to feel this way, you know. Did you ever consider the fact that you might actually really like this kid?"

And, well. No. I hadn't. Before I'd moved over here, I'd promised myself that I would not get involved with any relationships again, and allowing myself to fall for Tyler had only proved the point. I was just one of those people who was not meant to fall in love.

But maybe now . . .

I swallowed. "I'll go see him tomorrow. And I'll talk to him then."

"You mean today," Maggie corrected. I glanced at my clock and saw it was true: it was almost two in the morning and I had class at eight, but there was no way I'd be able to fall asleep now. "And how are you going to do that, may I ask?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you just gonna be like, 'oh, hey, are you sleeping with anybody else, or just me?' or what?"

"I don't know," I said, exasperated. "I'll just wing it, I guess. I can't exactly rehearse this type of conversation." Why does it matter why does it matter why does it matter?

"Yes, Hero, because winging it has worked for you before."

"Shut up."

I stayed up with Maggie until about four thirty before falling into a fitful sleep, only to be woken up by my alarm for my Business and Finance class. A major part of me wanted to skip it, but we were getting work to revise today, since finals were coming up.

So I dragged myself out of bed and went to class for a grueling four hours, attempting to listen to the professor but only hearing a bunch of noise, his words all slurred together in my brain. I was so tempted to just put my head down on the desk and sleep, but I knew I couldn't, knew I'd regret it.

Once I reached sweet freedom, I trudged to Niall's dorm. The March air was breezy, but not too cold, but I couldn't even enjoy it. It wasn't like I got a full ten hours of sleep every night, but I managed to catch at least seven or six. But going to bed at four-thirty and waking up at seven was extremely different, especially when I was as anxious as I was now. My mind was in a complete fog.

I couldn't even register knocking on Niall's door until he opened it. Tyler had moved out for good now, and Niall and I had celebrated by pushing his bed to the middle of the room, getting drunk, and having sex in the spot Tyler's bed would've been.

"Jesus," he said now, his eyes going slightly wide as he took in the heavy bags under my eyes and my sweatshirt and sweatpants. I hardly ever dressed in such slouchy clothes. "You look terrible."

I ignored the slight insult. "I need to talk to you," I mumbled, coming inside and flopping down on his bed. His nice, soft bed, with a navy blue comforter and two pillows and a stuffed bear Niall got when he was six. "It's important."

I could hear his footsteps as they came over to me, and then he was lifting up my legs and taking off my shoes, placing them on the floor. "How many hours of sleep did you get last night?"

"I don't know."

"Less than five?"

"Maybe."

"Okay, right. You need a nap. I can tell just by looking at you."

"No, I don't," I attempted to protest. "We need to talk, it's important, I have to ask you something."

"You can ask me when you wake up." He was by my head now, crouching down and gently stroking my hair, pushing it behind my ear, something my mother used to do whenever anyone in the family was sick.

"No."

"Yes, you can," Niall's voice was quiet now. "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, it's fine." I was trying to stay awake, but he sounded so far away, and sleep really did sound so good right now, so I let myself drift off, feeling his fingers through my hair and his voice in my head.

* * *

When I finally woke up after a deep, dreamless sleep, I had a terrible taste in my mouth and my body felt sweaty and sticky. I was disoriented at first, trying to figure out why I'd woken up in a strange bed.

I rolled over and saw Niall sitting in his desk chair, scrolling through his phone and eating a grilled cheese sandwich. When he noticed I was awake, he looked up and grinned a little.

"Hey, sleepyhead."

"What time is it?" I mumbled.

"A little after six," Niall said, checking his phone.

Class ended around twelve, so I'd been asleep for six hours. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" I demanded, pushing my hair out of my face.

He shrugged. "Maggie called to see where you were, and she told me you got, like, three hours of sleep. Not that I couldn't tell already. Besides, you're cute when you're sleeping. You look very . . . at ease. And you snore, but not loud. Just these little snuffles."

I tried not to flush, and most likely failed. "Well."

He grinned and swiveled over to his desk, picking up another plate of grilled cheese and handing it to me. "Picked you up some dinner. If you're hungry."

I hadn't eaten at all, actually, so I eagerly accepted the plate and took a bite. Niall watched me chew for a few seconds before he said, "You said you wanted to ask me something."

"Huh?"

"When I was trying to get you to sleep, you kept saying you had to ask me something."

And then my sleep-hazed mind remembered the whole reason I went to see Niall in the first place, and I got nervous again. "Uh, yeah. Right." I cleared my throat, wiping my already sweaty palms on my pants.

"Are you okay? You're not going to have a panic attack, are you?"

"No!" I said quickly. "No. I'm not. I just, um. Look, this is going to be kind of awkward, but I think I have to say it."

"Okay . . ." Niall said, raising his eyebrows. "I'm listening."

Just do it. Just spit it out. Get it over with. "Are you sleeping with other people?"

Niall leaned back in his chair, like I'd jumped at him. "What?"

I repeated the question, and he blinked at me. "No. No, I'm not. Why, are you?"

"No!"

"Okay . . . do you want to? Is that why you're asking?"

"No!" I said again, a little frustrated. "I was talking to Avery a few days ago and she mentioned it, like she asked if you were sleeping with anybody else or just me, and it occurred to me that we never, like, talked about it. So I just wanted to clarify." I was rambling now, something I always seemed to do around Niall.

He was looking at me with a weird expression, so I shut up. But then, his stupid face broke out into a big grin, and he got up and splayed himself on top of me, pinning me to the bed. "You're so dumb."

"Get off me," I squirmed, but he refused, preferring to kiss my face all over.

"Silly, pretty, Hero, you thought I wanted to sleep with other people?"

"Fuck you," I managed, but my words had no bite, and he laughed again.

"You are the only one I put my dick in, Hero. Scout's honor."

"How romantic."

He laughed. "But seriously, why were you so nervous about this?"

"I don't know," I hedged. "I just was."

"What if I had said yes?"

"I don't know," I repeated. "I just felt like we should tell the truth. It doesn't matter to me." My answer sounded weak, even to my own ears.

Niall raised his eyebrows. "It's okay if it matters to you. It would matter to me, too."

"It doesn't," I insisted. "It's perfectly fine."

"Okay, Hero," he said, but I could tell he didn't believe me, and I wasn't sure I did, either.