Weekend goes by pretty smoothly after that. I don’t get any call from Liam or a text telling me I have to face him. I’m all by myself and that’s wonderful. Although I sometimes find myself checking my mobile just to see if he’s texted me to say thank you, at least. I took him home, I made sure he didn’t die or get lost and he hasn’t been able to tell his girlfriend that he survived and didn’t drown in a pool of his own vomit.

I don’t care about him as a friend or because I’m actually getting in the part of the girlfriend, it’s my nature to be responsible. I’m a primary teacher, being responsible of kids is all I do, it’s second nature for me so it’s not strange at all that I get worried about Liam. I see him, in a way, like my responsibility. If he dies due to intoxication or something I’ll be free, yes, but I would also ruin my father’s chances to finally make it this time, to find his footing after all these years. I accepted the deal so I have to be an adult and just go on, and taking care of a kid is not that hard.

However, once I’m in school I don’t think of Liam at all. I just push all thought about him to the back of my mind and focus on doing my job. I’m the teacher of a Year 3 group in a small and nice school. It’s not the best in all London, but I quite like it. My class is not large, just twenty-three students and they are all quite nice most of the time. Of course, they are kids and they like playing and it’s hard to keep them focused all the time, but I do my best. Out of all the teachers in this school I’m always the one with fewest problems. I don’t know if I’m just the luckiest with the best group or if it’s all due to my hard work. I like to think it’s a combination of both.

I normally never make a problem myself. I never bring any drama from my life to school and it’s not like my life is perfect. I have all the problems with my father and all our financial issues but when I’m in school, I’m a hundred per cent focused and everyone knows that. My father would never call me unless it’s an absolute emergency and I have no other friends or acquaintances that could call me during the day. That, of course, until I signed a deal to become the girlfriend of a stuck-up rockstar.

Oh joy.

So I actually get scared in the middle of the class when I feel my phone vibrating inside my pocket. The kids get startled as well and some of them look at me with scared expressions. When your teacher jumps in the middle of the class with no apparent good reason and you’re seven or eight years old, you get scared. I smile at them, trying to reassure them that everything is all right and carry on although I know my phone is still buzzing. I manage to take it out of my phone without the class noticing just to frown at the screen when I see Liam’s contact showing there.

What the…?

I don’t answer because whatever he is calling me for can’t be important. He wouldn’t call me in case of an emergency and if he got in some accident they would call his family first. I know I’m saved as girlfriend chick but there still must be a Mum or Dad contact a hospital would call to.

I shove the mobile inside my pocket again and carry on with my class and I keep doing that for the rest of the day because yes, Liam keeps calling. I start to get anxious yet he hasn’t texted me or anything. If he really needed me to answer the phone he would’ve sent a text saying so, right? I’m getting worried for nothing.

Nevertheless, once it’s lunch break instead of going to the teachers’ room I go outside to the parking lot. I don’t know why Liam is calling me but no matter what, I don’t want anyone to hear me talking or even knowing I have a boyfriend now, even if it’s fake. Most of the teachers are quite old —I’m the youngest teacher in the whole school— so they don’t keep up with the gossips and the students are all young, just kids, so they wouldn’t know if I’m dating an international rockstar. I would get worried if I were a secondary school teacher.

Once I’m outside and sure that no one can hear me I call Liam back.

“Finally!” he exclaims after three tones. Not hello or anything remotely similar. “I’ve been trying to reach you all morning. Why didn’t you pick up?” he demands next, not even waiting for me to say something.

“Excuse you?” I cut in. “I’m not you, I don’t have a flexible schedule, I work in a school. I was working,” I say getting angry with him. I haven’t heard of him since the party and this is the first thing he does? Scold me? “You have no right to be pissed at me or anything. I have responsibilities and you are far from my first priority.”

“I’m your boyfriend. You should answer the phone if I call you. What if it was an emergency?” he retorts and I roll my eyes.

“I’m not your girlfriend because I love you, or even like you, remember that. And really? Would you call me if there were an emergency?” I ask him and wait for his answer.

“Shouldn’t I? You took care of me after the party after all,” he says and his voice gets quiet at the end, almost… embarrassed?

“Oh, so you noticed that.”

“Um… I thought it had been Drew but when I asked him to say thanks he told me it had been you.”

“And you called me immediately after, insistently,” I say sarcastically, hoping I’m making him uncomfortable.

“Well, I— yeah sorry about that. I— thank you, Belle, for helping me to get home that night. Although you could’ve let me in a better position. My neck still hurts.”

I roll my eyes at his complaints. “I did that in case you threw up. I couldn’t stay to keep an eye on you. I know it wasn’t comfortable, but that way you wouldn’t drown in your own vomit,” I tell him coldly and I hear a weird noise that makes me smile. Oh, does Liam Payne get awkward when one is talking about these topics? Well, isn’t that interesting?

“I uh… thank you,” he says although he sounds hesitant. “For making sure I didn’t suffer a very disgusting kind of death.”

I chuckle softly because for some reason I can imagine his face of utter disgust and that makes me laugh. I would actually want to see that face, it would be better than the arrogant smirk he keeps most of the time.

“You’re welcome, Liam. Though, I doubt this is why you called me. Is there something you need to really tell me?” I ask and no one is screaming now, we sound civilised and that’s good. That’s progress.

“Oh yeah, now I remember. Got carried away,” he mumbles and I fight the smile on my lips. “The premier is coming and you need to look great, you know? You wouldn’t possible have a dress for a premier. It’s not just a birthday party, you know? So you need to get an impressive dress. Don’t worry, though, I know you are poor so it’s gonna be my treat for you. Don’t hold back or anything, buy whichever dress you like. Just make sure you look hot. The media is gonna be there and they need to see my girlfriend.”

By the time he finishes I’m clenching my fists so tight and I’m at the edge of seeing red. I couldn’t believe someone could offend me so much in just a couple of sentences. How someone could reduce me to a mere object in such a short amount of time? But of course, leave it to Liam Payne to make me feel like an object. A poor object he can dress up to show off once again. And he doesn’t know anything about me! I could have an amazing dress —I don’t but that’s not the point— but he is just assuming I don’t without even asking. Or even that, he didn’t have to put it like that. It could’ve been a nice gesture but he reduced it to an insult, a pity act.

“You can’t help being a jerk, can you?”

“What?” he says, sounding actually confused and I clench my fists even tighter.

“You just said it in the worst way, offending me and objectifying me. Couldn’t you just put it nice for once in your life? Couldn’t you be a gentleman for once? Really, were you raised in a cave or what? You don’t treat a girl like that, even if she’s your fake girlfriend or not. You just don’t!”

“I’m buying you a dress and you’re shouting at me?! What’s your problem?” he shouts back and I can’t believe he’s so obtuse.

“Ugh, you’re impossible! You reduced me to just ‘looking hot’ and you treat me as if I can’t afford a dress so you pity me and buy it for me because I’m too poor to afford one. You don’t even think I know that a premier is different! What do you think I am? That because I’m not rich I have no idea what the world out there is like?”

I’m so angry I can’t even control my voice. Of course I know a premier is different from a birthday party, of course I know the media is going to be there and if I’m going to be the celebrity’s plus one I need to look my best. I’m not an idiot! I might not be part of his world but I’m not blind.

“I didn’t mean that,” he says, his voice tense over the phone and I feel this urge to throw it away.

“But that’s how you put it. You know, you should think before you speak because you are incredibly rude and plain awful,” I tell him a bit calmer but still so tense I think some muscle will pop up on my neck.

“You’re just overreacting. It wasn’t a big deal, I just was trying to be nice to you,” he keeps defending his case.

“And in the way you had to insult me, right? Seriously, did you ever have a girlfriend before?”

“Of course!” he jumps in and I sigh. Poor girls before me. I don’t understand what they saw in this caveman. I’m forced to be with him but they were by choice. How is that even possible? “You’re just impossible to please. I was just trying to be nice and help you with the dress as a thank you for helping me and so you would look amazing and everyone would see it without having to cause you any trouble. Ugh!”

I take a deep breath. Why couldn’t he say it like that the first time? Why did he have to come out as an arrogant bastard first?

“And you couldn’t say it like that? You know, it’s nicer if you say ‘I want to thank you for helping me so what if you let me buy your dress for the premier?’ than saying ‘I know you’re poor so I’ll buy your dress for the premiere because it has to be amazing. A premier is not a birthday party.’ Don’t you think?” I ask and I’m pretty sure that listening to what it sounded like will make him realise that it’s not what he wanted to do but how he said it.

“If you put it like that it sounds awful,” he complains and I chuckle humourlessly.

“That’s how you put it, Liam. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Silence. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and I actually look at my screen thinking he hung up on me, but no, the call is still on.

“I’m sorry,” he says and I take in a sharp breath. He actually sounds sorry and I wasn’t prepared for that.

“It’s okay,” I say rather weakly.

“Havi can help you pick the dress if you want to. Choose whatever you think best and let me know,” he carries on and he sounds so cold now. Not irritated, not arrogant. Just cold and distant.

“Okay.”

“Have a good day,” he adds half-heartedly and hangs up before I can say anything back.

I sigh, exhausted. Dealing with Liam will always be a pain in my ass and it will need more energy that I ever anticipated. And to make things worse, I have to go buy a dress and I hate shopping.

Ugh.

-:-:-

I really enjoy Belle and Liam's bickering hehehe. Did you like the chapter? I hope so! Remember to leave a comment and drop a vote if you did. 

Bel, xx