Why?A Chapter by SophieC'mon, gravity, please just stop for a minute? Three apples are about to fall out of my grocery bag, so I'm watching them and not where I'm going. I bump into something solid and warm, a person. “Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry.” I say, not looking up as I bend over to pick up the apples. “No problem.” A male voice says in a British accent, what is a British person doing in my tiny town? “I'm Louis.” “I'm Diana.” I shake his hand. He looks surprised, like he was expecting something that didn't come. “Hey, you look familiar.” I say. “Yeah, I'm Louis Tomlinson.” He says. I wait for him to go on, what does his last name mean to me? “From... One Direction...” He says. Oh. Gross. “Oh. Well, I have to, um, go now. Bye.” I say and walk off. I really hate One Direction, not for the usual reasons, though. I don't think they're 'gay', and their music isn't half bad, but I hate them because they made me into a loner. Everyone, and I mean everyone at my all-girl school is in love with One Direction. All my friends don't hang out with me anymore because all they want to do is talk about them when I don't want to. I'm a social outcast because of five guys who none of them have ever met. Even my mom is in love with them, and she won't talk to me either, unless it's necessary. Do you know how weird it is when your mom won't talk to you because of a boyband? Very. It's made me hate them more, which I guess doesn't really help my situation. When I get to my apartment, I put the groceries like mom left a note asking me to do, the thing is, she was home when she handed me the note, still unwilling to talk to me like she has for the last few months. It's maddening. Then I go up to my room, the walls plastered in One Direction posters my sister and mom hung in there, but then defiled by me with Sharpie. It's really scary how obsessed they are, like, scary. It's almost all they talk about, and I've learned to avoid certain words, because it sends them into fits of giggles. Like one time, I was hungry (this was before they shunned me) and I said to my mom, “Can we have tacos for dinner?” And my little sister bursts into laughter and then says in a slow, deep British accent, “Introducing Tac-o's, meat, cheese and lettuce flavored Os in a tortilla bowl!” Neither of them could speak for a few minutes. So I can never say the word tacos. The same with carrots, which they eat pounds of every week. Some girls at mt school bring carrots for lunch and that's it. I flop down on my bed. And now I've met one of them, what would my mom say? She'd probably kill me for not kissing him right there. So I won't tell her.
Louis
Whatever, she just wasn't a fan. I reassure myself, it's no big deal, there are tons of people who aren't fans. But, to meet a celebrity and just run off? Hit me right in the ego. She wasn't very good at hiding her emotions, when I told her I was from One Direction, a look of disgust came over her face, but was quickly wiped away. I get back to hotel and open the door. “Hey guys.” I say, and I know I don't sound like my usual self. “What's up, Lou?” Harry asks, behind me. I turn around to get a face full of my naked best friend. Everyday. “God, Haz, but on some boxers.” I groan, laughing. “You didn't answer my question!” He titters. “Well, I was taking a walk and this girl bumped into me, but she had no idea who I was, and when I told her, she looked like... like she hated us.” “Big whoop! There are a lot of haters, and you met one.” Zayn says. “But, she's so-” I stop myself, now everyone is looking at me. “She was really pretty is all.” I cross my arms. She really was. She had wavy light brown hair and beautiful black-coffee colored eyes, framed by long dark eyelashes. Her nose was narrow and her skin was perfected by a light dusting of golden freckles on her high cheekbones. She wasn't too short, but not too tall either, she was wearing flats but she could wear heels without being taller than me. “What does that have to do with her liking us or not?” Niall asks. “Dunno.” I shrug. “Well, don't worry about it, we'll be gone in a few days, its not like she'll throw eggs at our windows or something.” Harry shrugs, walking over to the mini kitchen in the hotel. “Anyone want pasta?” He asks, taking out two boxes, knowing we'll need more than one.
I lie awake in the super comfortable hotel bed, but I can't get comfortable. No matter how I turn, or what amount of clothes I wear (its the summer, but the air conditioning in this place is freezing!) I can't fall asleep. When I close my eyes, all I see is that look of disgust, and how she ran off. I know people don't like us, call us gay or whatever, and I've met those people, even they freak out when they meet us, if only less than the directioners. But what flashed in her eyes was pure hatred and I need to know why. What could five guys she's never even met have done to her that makes her hate us so much? Or worse, what if she just hates me? And WHY? Finally I fall into fitful sleep around four in the morning, only to be woken at seven by the sunlight hitting my closed eyes, and the first word that enters my brain is: why? Why?
© 2012 SophieAuthor's Note
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8 Reviews  Last Updated on July 27, 2012 Author
Sophie-, MAAboutI'm 16 in my sophomore year of high school, I started on this site when i was 14, took about a year break and now i might be back, im just fixing my description because i was annoying as f**k last yea.. more..Writing
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