Food Queen (Completed)

Chapter 21

Curled up on the hard bench inside the ladies bathroom I thought I could relax. My whole body soften up again, returning to it's usuall self. But I was wrong. Oh so wrong.

Instead I'm shivering recklessly on the plastic toilet seat. Tears are swimming down my cheeks and for each one a heavy curse escapes my tounge. Directly after I uttered the words regret struck me, and it kills me. He doesn't deserve my tears.
I guess a break up is a very sensible moment no matter what. Charged with loads of sparkling energy and now that energy needs to get out of my system.

My hands wrap around my knees, the sweat cold against my bare skin. I don't want a loveless life. I should be overwhelmed by different feelings, but now I am only realizing our story was too late.
Niall isn't an option anymore. I was too blind to see his signs, or too shy to admit them, and now that he thinks I've tossed him aside he has irishly moved on to share his irishness with somebody else.
I wish I was a spicy hamburger from Nando's.
Clearly I am not being what I'm eating.

In all this chaos, lost hunts of inner demons, I suddenly jump.
Steps...
I can hear them moving from the doorway. Slowly walking on the tiled floor of the changing rooms.
Then they quit their pace and a knock echos through the locked door.
I don't answer.

"Anybody there?"

I immediatley reconize the voice. As quiet as a whisper but with a very distinct accent that isn't hard to tell it's from Ireland.

"Rose? Is it you?"

I stubbornly insist keeping my mouth shut. If anything, I've had enough about boys. Seeing him with someone else is painful, seeing him walk away is even worse. Seeing Nick betray me is awful. Especially since the only one to blame is myself.

"Come on. I know you're there."

He knocks gently on the toiletdoor. An edge of triumph playing in his irish accent.

"Besides, I've got your jacket."

The sweet smell of male perfume lingers from the interstice of the door. I keep remaining silent but an overwhelming fear is growing up my neck. Unfolding every petal of my red rose.
This is my last chance. The last moment to tell him what I really feel. If I don't, he'll be lost forever.
Besides, I surely want my jacket back.

I painfully realize that my battle is lost. It looks like my only hope is to surrender and that's not much of a hope. Walking out on the battlefield showing my one true self, vulnerable as she is. No shields. No swords. No more faked feelings.
Only me.

I rise up from the wooden bench. Legs trembling. My next words will seal my destiny.
I don't need a boy.
I can give up that jacket.

"Boys are not allowed inside the girls's changing room." I shoot.

The answer comes quick. Like an arrow fired to aim at my heart. I feel my guard melt.

"Not even me? Not even the guy who loves you?"

All in an instant the sexy irish accent is back. The hard lump in my chest loses some of it's clenching grip. Like smooth liquid floating into and around it, making it soften. Finally relaxing my tense muscles.
He says he likes me after all. He says he loves me. But who am I worth loving for him? After all he went to Prom with Clarisse. He held her like she was a burger from Nando's. How much I'd want to I can't shut that out.
Me myself aren't the one to continue down this road either. What kind of girl would I be if I went straight from the arms of one man to the open ones of another?

"Liar." I utter, making the words rest on my tounge.

It surprises me how unreasonable I sound. Solid, bulletproof. Untouchable. Like a hedgehog. The dress is my shell of needles.
My statement is directly answered with a pause. I can hear his irish breathing from the other side of the door. His world seem to slow down.

"What happened?" he quietly asks at last in his normal manners, irish as usuall.

My first unwanted response is to flinch. Confusion ringing like loud bells inside my head. Letting his irish words on repeat forever and ever.

What. He'd said what. Not have anything.

I freeze. Both mind and physical.

"What do you want from me?" I ask, my voice steadily growing from low to incredibly loud. Keeping my melting guard as high as possible.

"I saw you. With her."

The untouchable Rose is back. As perfect red as ever.

"What I want?"

He lets go of a shaky irish laugh.

"I just want you to feel okay. I saw you run away for the jacks with that Woody guy as tall as Carrantuohill and when you didn't show up again but he did, I wanted to see if you were allright."

I put a hand over my mouth, stifling a laugh. He's comparing Nick with Woody from Toy Story. I guess without the cowboyhat they would look pretty much the same.

His irish response hits me like a wake up call. I immediatley freeze. Inside out. Stunned. He's doing Kylie's job. A Buzz lightyear coming to take care of my wings for a moment, pushing me in the right direction so that I'll be ready to fly again. It's beautiful in a heartaching way. He's standing here trying to repair what another guy destroyed. Niall is my Buzz lightyear.
I thought I always had believed in it, but apperantly I didn't even know what it was.
True love.

A tiny voice makes it's way through my head.

There is still hope. If he can leave Clarisse somewhere out there for you, then it's hope.

As I walk towards the door my mind starts spinning. Running wild of happiness, love, passion and fear. I raise my hand towards the handle, not reaching it quite yet.

"Can you help me with one thing?" I ask pronouncing every syllable with extra care.

"What is it?"

The answer comes so soon. So direct in my direction. I press the handle down and as the door glides open I find myself staring into those very real crystal blue orbs. Those I have admired for so long.
He is there. He is real. Standing in the girls's changingroom outside my wide open toiletdoor.
I separate my lips. Noticing my body is trembling again.

"Can you help me overcome my fe..."

But that is as far as I'll go.

"Niall!"

The voice breaking through the room, escalating the air like a whip, is rearing. Dripping with irritation. A pink dress appears in the doorway, showing the expression of a very unhappy face.

"Where have you been? We will miss the waltzcompetition, Fenomeniall!" Clarisse screams through the tiled room.

Her voice echos between the four walls as she walks directly towards Niall. She seizes his green bow tie between her long carefully painted nails.

"I can't believe that the place where I finally find you at is in the girls's changing room with the most shy girl I've ever met! I saw better things in you mister!"

I bite back an awfully bitter face. The way she pronounce the word shy makes it sound like something she found alone with a rat. Quietly I clench my fist behind my back. Clarisse is only digging her own grave.

She pulls him against her. Niall, in a very irish styling, tripping on the way. Losing his balance as he glances back at me. The expression on his face is a perfect picture of pure panic. A brain hurridly working overtime for an answer it cannot find. I have a strong feeling my own is reflecting the very exact thing.

"Meet me by the lockers on second floor at nine." his irish mouth mimes to me in a flow like rushing water.

Then Clarisse pulls his tuxedodressed sleeve and they both disappear into the noicy crowd at the other side of the gymhall.