Whoo(: It's finally Friday! After a crappy first week back at school, a weekend is exactly what I need xD Anyway, there is NO HATE intended towards The Wanted in this chapter. It's just a story, and most directioners do not get along with The Wanted fans. Just letting you know, hate is not intended. Please don't hold it against me... xD Anyway, enjoy<3

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Chapter 2 – Valerie’s P.O.V.

            I raked a hand through my hair as a loud sigh escaped my lips. I closed my locker, hugging my books close to my chest as I made my way to calculus. Of course, some jerk thought it’d be funny to shove me into the lockers. I simply groaned, walking faster to the class. This is your last year, I told myself. You can make it a couple more months. You can do this. Who the hell am I kidding? Just let me curl up in a corner, rock myself back and forth as I cry my eyes out, and then die. Yup, it’s a plan.

            “Val!” I didn’t stop as I heard my best (and only) friend, Stevie, catch up with me. “Valerie, did you hear One Direction is going to be in town?”

            “Fabulous,” I grumbled.

            “What’s wrong?” Stevie asked, her eyes saddening.

            I sighed. “Stevie, it’s not like I can afford tickets. Dad just got laid off, Mom is working two jobs, and no one is hiring so I can’t get a job. I’ve given up on trying to get tickets,” I told her truthfully.

            “Don’t say that!” Stevie slapped my arm as I glared at her. “If anyone deserves to meet the boys, it’s you. You’ve been through too much to just ‘give up’, Val.”

            “Doesn’t matter anyway,” I mumbled. “They’ll never know I exist.”

***

            My daydreaming mind carried me away from the math as I mindlessly stared ahead, my chin resting on my hand. I could hear faint voices, and it sounded like they were taking roll, but I wasn’t quite sure. My fangirl mind was taking over, completely oblivious to anything that has to do with school. But I nearly jumped ten feet in the air when Mrs. Williams’ piercing voice rose.

            “Ms. Anderson!” she snapped and I jerked, blinking a few times to make sense of her figure. Of course, the kids in the class laughed at my mind’s absence from the classroom.

            Before she could continue, one of the boys said, “Hey, you’re that girl that likes that gay boy band, right?”

            “No, I don’t like The Wanted,” I retorted, giving him a fake smile and rolling my eyes. He stared at me, as if I gave him an answer he wasn’t expecting, but then he shook his head and chatted amongst his friends. Probably about me, considering they kept pointing my way.

            “Ms. Anderson, thank you for joining us back on earth,” Mrs. Williams then said. “Can you please explain to the class the formula written out on the board? You’re my prodigy student, so please show the class why they should study.”

            I sighed, starting my ramble about the overly-exaggerated formula was on the board. I can’t pronounce it to save my life, but I do know it by heart. I don’t know why I’m her “prodigy” student if I have a C is this cursed class. I don’t study, I don’t pay attention, and I certainly don’t care. It’s not like this stuff will be important to me in the future. Fulfilling your dreams of a writer doesn’t involve ridiculous formulas, confusing equations, or even numbers in the slightest. I hold the cards when I write, and that’s exactly why I love doing it. I’m able to express myself without people actually knowing I’m pouring a little of myself in the book. It’s a nice compromise.

            After the dragging day, I got in the passenger seat of Dad’s civic and we were on the way home. I listened to the twins smacking each other in the backseat, but I didn’t speak a word. I had nothing to say. Today was crap, go figure, and Monday will be just the same. Usually, people my age are ecstatic when Friday rolls around. Big house parties, alcohol, seeing your partner or friends. But not me. My Friday night consists of popcorn and This Is Us, which I happened to have pre-ordered, and now I hold it in my grasp. I’ve seen it about twenty times now, but it never gets old to me. I still cry to Little Things, I still cry when Zayn gives his “mum” the house, and I still cry because they’re all just too damn perfect. They’re too perfect, and I’ll never be able to witness their perfection in person.

            “Everyone shut up!” I then shouted, turning up the radio when it was nearly all the way down. The music to Story Of My Life started graciously rolling through my ears.

            “How did you even hear that when—“

            “Shh!” I placed my index finger on Dad’s lips as I started mouthing Harry’s part.

Written in these walls are the stories that I can’t explain,

I leave my heart open but it stays right here empty for days…

            I kept going onto Liam’s as I smiled stupidly to myself, looking out the window. Anything related to these boys makes me smile, and the thought itself is kind of unbelievable. You could say one of their names and my face just brightens and my eyes get big. The simplicity of their name being spoken makes my heart flutter. I’ve tried to get out of this insane fandom, but once you’re in… You can’t get out. You’re just trapped for the rest of your life. The best thing? You don’t even care. Being a fangirl is a way of life and—

            “What the hell is wrong with you?” I screamed at Tommy as he pushed the radio off. I turned it back out, giving him my iciest and sternest glare.

            “Valerie, watch your mouth,” Dad grumbled, not seeming too effected by it. Mom, on the other hand, would’ve smacked me upside the head.

            “Well, tell that little brat not to turn my music off!” I growled.

            Dad sighed, rubbing his face. “Tommy, leave your sister’s music alone.”

            Tommy rolled his eyes, throwing himself back in the seat and sticking his tongue out at me. I returned the gesture, focusing my ears back on the angelic voices as I picked up on the chorus to sing along. The song ended right as we pulled into the driveway, and I was the first to get out the car. I slammed the car door, ignoring Dad’s scolding as I stormed into the house.

            “Hey sweetie,” Mom smiled sweetly. “How was school?”

            “Same old, same old,” I muttered, marching up the stairs.

            I tossed my backpack in the corner, sighing heavily as I heaved a hand through my hair. I sat in my desk chair, leaning back and sucking in a deep breath. After today, I don’t want to do anything but write. Thinking this, I sat up and went to open my laptop, but then Mom called me back downstairs. I groaned, swirling around in the chair and slinging my bedroom door open. I went down the stairs, Mom and Dad grinning brightly as they held a box in their hands. I rose an eyebrow, standing on the last step as I folded my arms across my chest.

            “What’s in the box?” I asked suspiciously.

            “Come see,” Dad smiled as he held it out.

            I walked down the last stair, sighing and taking the box from his hands. The way they were grinning at me was beginning to freak me out, but I still popped the tape with my finger. I set the box on the coffee table, lifting the lid and my eyes widened. I looked up at Mom and Dad, then back at the box.

            “Do you like it?” Mom asked.

            Again, I took a double-take. “A-Are these real?” I asked, forcing my shaking hands to grab the pieces of paper. I felt tears swelling in my throat, ready to pour at any minute.

            “Sure are. Look beneath them,” Dad beamed.

            I did so, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. Tears were already rolling down my cheeks as my whole body was shaking. I grabbed the passes, my heart thudding erratically against my chest. “M-Meet and Great passes? A-And front r-row tickets?” I stammered, my voice quiet through my sobbing.

            “All for you,” Mom said, her sweet grin making my heart burst.

            I ran over to them, flinging my arms around both their necks as my tears came harder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! So, so much!” I cried, a weak laugh escaping my lips as I squeezed them.

            “You deserve them, sweetie,” Dad smiled as he rubbed my back. “We heard they were coming into town, and your mother and I already had some money stored away. Especially for this.”

            I pulled away, my eyes widening even though my vision was still blurry. “You guys w-were saving money? F-For me?” I asked in disbelief.

            “Of course,” Mom said, rubbing my shoulders. “We know how much those boys mean to you, and we know their songs helped you through a lot.”

            I couldn’t believe what I was hearing right now. After all our money problems and tight budgets, and they still saved? For me? Talk about greatest parents in the world. I never imagined them to do anything like this, but now I can’t seem to stop crying. I can’t help but to think of my book, and how Lauren met Harry the same way. Through a meet and greet. What a weird coincidence, but I don’t even care. I’m going to meet my damn idols. The boys that saved my life. I don’t think it’s fully registered in my mind, yet. I think I’m still trying to process it, but I still keep crying and smiling. To anyone outside the family, they would think I was some deranged girl; crying and smiling. But I can’t help it. They’re happy tears. Ecstatic tears. Overwhelmed tears. Yeah, that’s a good word for this situation: Overwhelmed.

            “You might as well go pick out an outfit, because it’s tomorrow night,” Dad told me. “Stevie is welcome to go. There’s two tickets, and I doubt your mother wants to sit through that loud arena. I know I don’t.”

            I smiled brightly. “Thank you guys so much. I really… I don’t know what to say,” I choked, tears spilling from my eyes incessantly.

            “A simple I love you will do,” Dad smirked.

            “I love you, I love you, I infinity times love you!” I squealed, embracing them once more.

            I ran upstairs, immediately blogging about my excitement, and then I gripped the tickets and passes to my chest. I shot Stevie a text, to which she instantly replied with an “I told you” and an “I’ll be there.” After all the excitement started wearing down, well, for everyone else, I climbed into bed. I locked the tickets and my passes in my secret box, then I tucked it under my bed. I wasn’t going to risk losing them, or the twins doing something to them. I’d beat their asses if they did.

            And for once in my life, I went to sleep with a smile on my face.