Nemily: Real Or Fake?

39

Edited May 19, 2016

Emily pov.

"Emily, wake up! You gotta get to school." Dad pulls the blankets from me.

I groan. Mondays. The work of Satan. "Five more minutes."

"You said that five minutes ago. Now up and at em!" He flips the light switch and I'm blinded by sudden brightness.

I literally lean down and put my hands on the floor and drag me from my cozy cave of blankets.

Yes, even in California I like to sleep under three sheets and a comforter. I think its because I get cold easily. Curse Dad for giving me naturally cold skin! It's mostly in my fingertips and hands but if I wore sandals to school back in Indiana, my feet were cold.

Quickly showering, I get dressed in some shorts and a shirt of Niall's he gave me. It was white with Horan on the back along with a four leaf clover. This one fit me just right because he outgrew it and got a new one. I tucked it into the shorts and grabbed a belt.

I pulled on faded black converse and slipped my iPhone into my back pocket. Grabbing my backpack with everything I needed, I head downstairs.

Dad placed some eggs in front of me and I ate some, too nervous to eat and because I didn't really want to eat. Dad still don't know anything about me making myself purge.

He hands me a lunch pail with a sand which, peanut butter and jelly of course, and an apple. Some money to buy milk was there as well.

"Good luck!" He says after helping me put my instruments in my car.

"Thanks."

He watched me get in and drive down the driveway. I turned on the radio and Fancy by Iggy was on so I listened to that the on the way to school.

When I reached the school, lots of kids were there. Lots were playing sports or talking or catching up on homework. Some were playing instruments and others were writing in a journal under some trees. A couple of girls were taking photos of the leaves and grass near by.

Pft. Tumblr girls.

Happy I got a backpack with wheels, I put my saxophone on my back, put my piccolo in my backpack, and grabbed my trumpet and flute in my right hand. My drumsticks sticking out of my back pocket.

"Need some help?" A guys runs up, a football (soccer) ball in his hands.

I look at him and shake my head. "No. I've got it."

The guy raises an eyebrow. I lock my car and we head to the school. "So, my name is Cameron. I'm a soccer prodigey. Captain of the boys soccer team."

"Emily. I'm new. I guess you can tell what my talent it." We laugh and make our way through the front doors. I find my locker. There is no way I can fit everything in the puny thing.

I roll my eyes. "These lockers are smaller then ones in Indiana!"

Cameron laughs. "So that's where you're from? Was it Wellingtons that made you come out?"

I shake my head. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Cameron nods. He helps me get everything in my locker. I have my photos and mirror hung up and my school supplies into my shoulder bag. My backpack was just the right size to stand up on the bottom and I stacked my instruments on top.

"Can I see your schedule?" Cameron asks.

I hand it to him. He glances at it. "We have gym together. And it looks like art class. And lunch. Oh, and English."

"Awesome!" The bell rings and I head to English with Cameron.

•••

The classes went by fast. Third period was band. Which is right after journalism.

I head to my locker and grab my instruments. I find a girl with a bag of drumsticks. "Hey, I'm Emily. Are you heading to band?"

The girl turns to me and nods. "I'm Ashley. You must be new. The new prodigey."

I nod. Ashley and I chat about drum line and percussion all the way to band.

Stopping by the directors office, I find Mr. Chapman, the band director, sitting at his desk playing the trumpet.

"You're a little flat." I comment.

He looks at me and stands. "You must be Emily. My new prodigey. I assure you, that I knew I was flat." I nod, not believing his lies.

He tells me to sit and I do. "How well do you know trumpet?"

"I started learning three days ago. Self taught. And I already know how to play Beethoven's Ninth."

Mr. C, my new nickname for him, looked impressed.

"What about drumming?"

"Second instrumentation I learned. My dad says I had a knack for it when he gave me one of those plastic drums with the drumsticks attached with the string when I was two but didn't start actually playing till three years ago."

"Saxophone?"

"Third instrument I learned. I've been playing for four years."

"Flute?"

"First instrument I ever learned. Ten years and counting."

He nods and we exit to begin class. He sat me with the flute section. "Just share with Kennedy for now."

I nod and put my instrument together and start paying.

••••

Niall POV.

The package was waiting for me when I got back to the hotel. Oliver must've picked it up for me while I was in an interview.

'Niall, when you get this, come to my room. We have to talk.'

That's what the note said next to the package. I sighed and walked across the hall way and knocked on his door. "What do you need now?"

"Its about what we talked about." He ushers me in. "I've been doing some research. You're dropping fans left and right. This cannot wait till February. I looked at the contract and it said that she has to go through with what ever we say. You do it for your ninth anniversary this Friday. I made reservations under your name at some fancy place."

I stand. "What about Phil? Her dad?"

Oliver nods. "I talked to him. He knows that its not a real event and its just a publicity stunt."

I slump into the seat. "But, Oliver. I'm saying I'm happy about this but what if really want this to be real?"

Oliver sits across from me. "What are you saying, Horan?"

I lean in close. "I'm saying that I really want to ask for her hand in marriage."

°•°•°•°

Nemily marriage!!

I gave up on the goal. I wanted to update!!

- e.h.