Just Consider It

Apparently, the whole me kissing Tyler thing meant that we were now a couple of some sort. To be honest, I was never really crazy about the whole boyfriend idea. Of course I’d had them before, but I never got too serious about them. They were fun for the summer, fun for a few months, but eventually they just got too clingy and I didn’t like it.

But even I had exceptions, Tyler being one of them. There was just something about him that made me want to kiss him until my brain turned to mush.

Of course, the fact that my tutor was his roommate made things a little complicated, but usually when I came over Tyler had the decency to leave the room for the session and not distract me like he usually did.

“You really like him, huh?” Niall asked, raising his eyebrows at me.

I swiveled in his desk chair, where my name was still written on it in black marker. “What’s it to you?”

“Well, I am his roommate, and I know some info about him that I could pass onto you, if you cooperated . . .” Niall said casually, twirling his pencil in his hand.

I stopped spinning. “What kind of information?”

Niall smiled innocently and didn’t say anything.

I sighed. “Fine, yes. I like him a lot. I haven’t had a real boyfriend since sophomore year so this is all sort of new to me, okay? But it’s a nice new. A very nice new.” I smiled at the thought of Tyler and his perfect green eyes before looking back at Niall’s blue ones.

“Was that so hard, Hero?”

“That’s the first and last time I’m ever telling you my feelings. Now talk.”

The Irish boy beckoned me over. I pushed myself over to him, but he still motioned me closer. I bent down so his mouth was right next to my ear, noticing that he actually smelled really good. No. Focus, Hero.

“You really wanna know?” Niall whispered.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and said in one big rush, “Tyler flat irons his hair!” He started laughing hysterically.

“Fuck you,” I growled, giving him a shove and sending myself wheeling back towards the desk. He fell on his back, still giggling like he was the funniest thing ever.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

I glared at him. Sometimes I literally wanted to push him down a flight of stairs. “I hate you.”

“Hate’s an awfully strong word, babe.”

“It’s strong enough.” I absolutely hated the way he was looking at me, that confident grin on his face, his hands laced behind his head. I hated him from his hair down to his sneakers and everything in between.

“Gosh, Hero, are you always this nasty or is it just PMS time?”

“Shut up, idiot!” I shouted. “Can we just please go back to studying? The quicker I can get my grades up, the quicker I can get rid of you.” Niall knew all about my parents’ threat to drag me back to America.

“Oh, right, we wouldn’t want Mummy and Daddy Bronwyn to disown you for getting a tutor.” Niall also repeatedly voiced his opinion on the issue, saying how it was ‘stupid’ and ‘ridiculous.’ Welcome to my life.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to say something mean, something that would wipe that annoying smile of his face. “At least my parents are still together.” It was insensitive and hurtful. But it did the trick.

The grin vanished from his face like a magician had taken it away. His eyes lost that sparkle like it’d been turned off by a light switch. He looked back down at his book. “Thanks.”

Even though I’d meant to say it, a part of me still felt sort of bad. I had no idea that my words were going to have that type of effect on him. But for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to apologize. I didn’t know why; the words just wouldn’t come out. A silence of the awkward variety filled the air until he asked, in a voice that was much more serious and even a little sad, “Let’s just get this over with, okay?”

“Okay,” I answered quietly. Apologize, Hero, apologize! But I just couldn’t bring myself to. Maybe it was my pride, maybe it was because I felt awkward? As time went on, however, instead of the guilt fading, it only weighed me down. At first, it was only like a small pressure on my chest. But it slowly started getting heavier and heavier until I felt like I could barely breathe. Finally, my mouth twisting in disgust, I spat out, “I’m sorry.”

His reaction surprised me. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” I insisted, almost a little offended.

He looked up at me, all the humor gone from his blue eyes. “No, you aren’t. It’s over, Hero. I’m done trying to be friends with you.”

“What do you mean by that?” I demanded.

“I mean that I’ve let you insult me and humiliate me over and over and it’s getting old now, okay?”

“What do you mean, ‘let me’?” I snapped. “You’re the one who’s been a cocky bastard for the past few weeks, strutting around like you know everything and like you’re better than me!”

“Are you kidding me? If anyone does that, it’s you! We all know you’re only agreeing to be tutored by me because you want to knock me down and prove to your parents you’re the best! Well, I’ll tell you what: I’ll help you get your A, you’ll beat me, and we’ll be done with it and you won’t ever have to talk to me again. Sound good?”

“Oh my God,” I laughed, even though there was nothing funny about the situation. “You are so —”

“I’m so what? You’ve used every insult there is to say. Do you wonder why no one likes you? For Mason’s sake, I hope he grows up to be like anyone but you.”

That crossed a line. A huge one. I jumped to my feet and glared at him, feeling a powerful, awful kind of hatred course through my veins instead of blood. Instead of yelling back, I just pushed past him, opened the door, and left without a word, making sure to slam it behind me.

I stormed down the hallway and out into the frigid October air, practically shaking with anger. Who was he to tell me the type of person I was? Who was he to make judgments about me and Mason? I was never going back there. Never. I didn’t care if I failed Psychology, I didn’t care that I’d left all my stuff in his room, hell, I didn’t even care if my parents pulled me out of college and made me come home. I didn’t want to see Niall Horan ever again.

When I burst into my dorm room, Maggie looked up from her Fabulous magazine. “Oh, hey,” she said, getting up and coming over to me. “Look who I found.” She held up a poster of Niall fucking Horan, gazing all deep and mysterious into the camera.

Do you wonder why no one likes you?

A fresh wave of fury washed over me and before I could take a deep breath and do my one-two-three, I reached out and grabbed the poster from her, ripping it up into tiny shreds, ruining his face and tearing up his solemn expression. Maggie watched in appalled silence as I completely annihilated the picture, scattering it all over the floor. When I was done, I stood there, panting, pieces of my hair falling in my face. I probably looked like some type of deranged creature.

Then, she simply shrugged and said, “Oo-kay,” before laying back down on her bed and picking up her magazine once more. Maggie knew that when I was in a mood like this, it was best not to disturb or touch me, because I could throw a mean right hook.

When my breathing returned to normal, I flopped face-down on my bed, tired. Maggie said finally, “Are you ready to talk about it?”

Lifting my head, I asked, “Do I have to?”

“Considering you just destroyed the picture I was going to hang on my wall, yes, you have to.” There was a creak as Maggie sat down beside me. “Come on, Hero.”

Sighing, I slowly recited the fight Niall and I had gotten into. Maggie was quiet the entire time, listening. When I finished, she exhaled slowly. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Tell me what to do,” I begged.

She shrugged. “There’s nothing to do.”

“What?”

“And, anyway, you should be happy about this,” Maggie continued. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You hate Niall. He’s been tutoring you for about a month now and every time you come home complaining about him and saying how much you hate going. If you’re never going back, then it’s done. It’s over.”

I mulled that over. It was true. Ever since he and I had met, ever since he’d said, “Hi, my name’s Niall,” I had hated him more than I’d ever hated anyone before. Now I didn’t have to go back. I could find another tutor or, better yet, study on my own. I’d prove to my parents that no Irish boy would ever take me down.

But why didn’t that make me feel good?

A little while later, Tyler called me. “Did something happen while you were over here today?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Why?” I tried to avoid the question.

“Because Niall looks like a wreck . . . what happened?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I tried. He’s not telling me anything. All he said was that something happened at home and that it had nothing to do with you, but I thought I’d just call and ask.”

“He did?” I squeezed my eyes shut. Call it a hunch, but I had a feeling that nothing happened at Niall’s house. He was covering for me yet again. Now what?

“Yeah. Are you sure nothing went wrong?”

I exhaled and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I . . . yeah. I’m sure.”

* * *

I didn’t go to Niall’s the next day, or the day after that. Each time she came home and saw me sitting on my bed, reading, Maggie clucked her tongue but didn’t say a single word.

"Your stuff is just sitting there," Tyler informed me. He couldn't understand why I refused to come get it. "You're gonna need it at one point or another, Hero, come on."

"No."

"Look, I know you and Niall have your differences, but he's been pretty low these past few days, so he won't bother you if you just pop round, get your stuff, and go."

I wanted to shout, The whole reason why he's so upset is because I made that insensitive crack about his parents! But I didn't. Tyler would be disappointed in me if he knew that that had been the cause of it all along.

"I don't want to talk about this right now," I said, and childishly covered my ears. Tyler sighed.

"Okay. I have to go to work in a few . . . see you in a bit. And seriously, think about it, okay?"

"Okay, okay, fine. Have fun at work." Tyler pecked me before getting up, stretching and walking out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I fell back onto my bed, closing my eyes.

This was not happening to me. This could not be happening to me. I hated Niall. He was annoying and cocky and rude and awful. He'd insulted me. I had every right to walk out on him. I wasn't becoming soft.

Was I really feeling bad about insulting that son of a bitch?

. . . did I really miss the kid?

Maggie was out. Avery was working. I didn't really like anyone else who was in my classes; i.e., they thought I was a know-it-all bitch and I dismissed them for being dumber than me. Niall was really the only guy who put up with me.

I groaned. Suddenly, there was a light tap on my door. I raised my head, wondering who it could be. Maggie had her key, so there was no need for her to knock, Avery usually just barged in, and Tyler had just left. I had horrible visions of my mom and dad posing a surprise visit on me, but then dismissed it because I knew my parents would never knock so gently and politely.

I got up and opened it. To my surprise, Niall was standing there, holding my backpack. "Hi?" I said.

"Hello." He coughed. "Um. I brought you your stuff . . . since we have class tomorrow and I figured you'd need it."

"Okay," I nodded awkwardly. "Thanks."

"Okay," he repeated. "See you sometime."

"Yeah."

He gave me a little wave and walked away. I stared after him, wishing, for some dumb reason, that he would come back.