7     curse you mister alexander graham bell

“Thanks again, Hadley.”

“I’ve already told you it was no big deal, lovely. I’m just sorry I couldn’t get to the hospital sooner,” Hadley says.

We’re sitting in the front of her smart car, the windows shut tight. It’s dark outside and I can see every little star in the sky from the country back road we’re driving. Hadley has just picked me up from the hospital. Yes, I know. It was all blown out of proportions. After I hit my head not once, but TWICE I was hauled away to the local emergency room. It took persuasion to let them send me home. The doctor wanted to keep me locked up in that white prison cell overnight!

I hate hospitals.

I press the ice closer to my head. The throbbing gets a bit quieter. “Today sucked,” I say. I glance to Hadley in the driver’s seat. “I should have never gone to see Harry.”

“It wasn’t his fault you gave yourself a concussion honey,” Hadley says sweetly, her motherly tone taking over.

I roll my eyes.

“Of course it was. Everything is his fault,” I argue. “Bible School, my parents’ divorce, Todd’s depression, poverty in third world countries, World War Two-” Hadley’s giggle interrupts me and I stop. “You get the point,” I say.

“Oh yes. If the point is you’re very overdramatic.”

“Am not.”

“And argumentative,” Hadley says with a smirk.

“That’s not even a real word,” I say. But now that I think about it more it probably is… oh well.

“Let’s just forget that it ever happened- alright love?” Hadley asks. I nod and she says, “We’ll head back to the flat and get you some tea.”

“But you have work,” I say.

Hadley readjusts her rearview mirror. Then she tells me, “I took tomorrow off.”

“Well that was silly,” I say. “I can handle myself.”

“The doctor put you on bed rest,” Hadley says. “I just want to make sure you follow his rules.”

“Rules shmules,” I mock. “I’ll be just fine by morning.”

***************************************************************************************************************

I’m lying in my bed; the ceiling directly up. I don’t know why I always sleep like this, my limbs spread out like a starfish. But I do. And I did, because I woke up looking like this with an ugly bump on my head. I can feel it underneath my thick head of hay hair.

Hadley pokes her head into the room, her pink hair falling over her shoulder. “How are you doing sweetheart?” She asks.

“I feel useless,” I say bitterly. A whole entire day in bed is ridiculous! I literally went to sleep last night, woke up, and then never moved a muscle. Nothing productive was done- NOTHING.

“That’s not what I asked,” Hadley probes.

I look into her frosty blue eyes. She’s smiling sweetly, her bright white teeth glowing behind pale pink lips. “I’m feeling much better,” I tell her honestly. Really, I am. The throbbing is completely gone and I can see perfectly straight.

“That’s good,” Hadley says with a nod.

“In fact, I think the concussion did me wonders. I can smell sounds now,” I say. “It’s like I’m Spiderman or something.”

“Stop being ridiculous,” Hadley says. “You missed a call from the Miss.”

I prop myself up on my pillows. “Are the kids alright?” Is the first thing I have to know.

Hadley shrugs and says, “She didn’t leave a message.”

I bite down on my lip. Miss Gallows wouldn't ring on my sick day unless it was something urgent. “I need to call her back,” I say distastefully. Curse you Alexander Graham Bell and your early telephone! Hadley tosses my flip phone onto the duvet beside me. “Thanks,” I say.

My best friend leaves and I open my cell. Sure enough, I had a missed call an hour ago at five PM.

I push redial and hold the receiver to my ear.

“Lena?”

“Hello,” I say slowly.

“Oh how are you feeling?” Ms. G asks politely.

“Perfect,” I say. I kick the blankets off my feet and stare down at my nail polished toes. “What’s up?”

I can hear Ms. Gallows talking to one of the kids and then pull the phone back to her mouth. “The children and I are worried sick about you. I’m so sorry,” she says.

“Not your fault.” Nope. It was Harry Styles’ fault entirely.

“Well I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Oh my gosh, just get to the point PLEEEASE. So I can get off of this stupid device.

“Anyway,” She says. “Last night I got a call from my agency. There’s a benefit in Tokyo in three days. Then there’s a follow up in the states. It’s going to be a long trip.”

“The kids and I will be fine,” I say.

“Well,” She sighs.

Oh uh. Where’s she going with this? I’ve known that tone of voice for five years.

“Their father offered to watch them while I’m gone.”

I blink.

She’s going to trust EX MISTER with her CHILDREN?

“The kids are excited of course,” Ms. Gallows says.

“And how do you feel about it?” I ask. I’m treading on thin ice with this question.

“I think it’ll be good for all of them.”

She can’t be serious.

That bloke hasn’t spent more than a day with those kids since Cade was two!

“What’s your opinion?”

I blink.

“I don’t think I have one,” I lie. Duh I have an opinion. When do I not? “It’s none of my business…” That’s the right answer, right? Just trying to keep my nosy nose out of the Gallows’ business.

“Of course it is. You’re practically the kids’ older sister,” My boss says. “You’ve been a part of this family longer than Cade’s been alive. You know his father better than he does.”

I sigh.

If she really wants the truth- the truth is what she’s gonna get.

I switch the phone in the other hand. I press the thing up to my ear and hear Ms. Gallows’ take a static breath on the other line. I wish she's just sitting here in front of me: where I can see her face and read her reactions.

“The truth, miss?” I ask. I don’t wait for the answer but just keep rambling, “I wouldn't trust that man with my pet rock.”

Ms. G laughs, “Oh thank god we feel the same way.” She stops her giggles and lets out a relieved puff of air. “I have no faith in him whatsoever.”

I fall into my pillows. They are so dang fluffy, by the way.

Ms. Gallows clears her throat then says something like, “I was hoping you could keep an eye on all of them for me. Maybe- maybe even stay at Mr. Gallows’ place while they’re there?”

My jaw drops to below sea level.

Heck naw.

No no no no no no-

“I know what you’re thinking-”

Do you? Do you? Because right now I’m thinking that you had babies with a creep and now I have to go and spend the night at his house because of it.

“-And I don’t blame you. He’s not ideal, that’s for sure. But Lena: you and I would both feel so much better if the kids had you there with them. They’ve never spent any time alone with him. I’m sure they would love for you to tag along.”

“How long are we talking here?” I ask. I’m tugging at my hair like there’s no tomorrow.

There’s a pause on the other line.

Gosh, I hate phones!

“Miss G!” I say loudly. I raise my voice about ten decibels then shout, “HOW LONG?”

I can barely hear her sigh, “A month.”

“A MONTH?” I gawk.

No way in heck.

I prop myself up in bed, clutching the phone in my fist. “That’s the end of the summer!” I say.

“I know,” She says. “It’s horrible timing. But my job is on the line here.”

Yeah, well mine is too. Because if I have to live with ex-mister I will be wanted for murder. Homicide department will be all up in Lena's business.

“Lena please- we need you.”

I roll my eyes and wish she’s here to see it.

How can I say no? I can’t leave those kids with that beast! That would make me the world’s worst nanny. I care about those munchkins more than anyone else. I can’t just leave em hanging when they need me most. And I owe it to the Miss. Five years ago she picked me off my feet and gave me the job I needed to keep myself going. Then she never turned her pretty back on me- not once.

I make an ugly noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “Of course I’ll do it.”

“Lena! Thank you so much dear!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say. “When do I report to the madman’s house?”

“Tomorrow.”

I stare lasers into a spot on the yellow wall. “That soon? Japan needs you that soon?”

“There’s just so much to do between now and then-”

I shake my head left and right. I want to wrap this conversation off and get off this stupid phone. I’m probably getting radiation poisoning from holding this machine to my freaking head for so long. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be packed and prepared as soon as I can.”

“I can’t thank you enough dear.”

“No problem,” I say whilst picking at my nails.

“I have to finish getting Cade dressed,” She says. “But I’ll see you tomorrow? Before I leave town?”

I nod. Oops, she can’t see that can she? “I’ll personally drive you to the airport.”

I can picture Ms. G smiling as she replies, “Thank you. Feel better dear.”

Then she hangs up on her end.

I sigh, throwing my phone on the bed.

“That’s it!” I announce. I’m crawling off the bed and sauntering into the bathroom. I know Hadley can hear me from the kitchen but she doesn’t say anything. “I’m not sitting around like a stupid log any longer.”

I rummage around my drawer of hair ties and pick out one that matches my joggers. I throw my favorite blue jumper on; not even caring that the colors of my outfit sorta clash. I sprits some sweet smelling stuff and slip on my sandals.

“Where are you going?” Hadley calls after me as I stride out of our house.

“I don’t know,” I shout over my shoulder. “But I’m doing something.”

I close the door behind me. It’s warm outside on the front porch. I can see the little old lady neighbor on her porch swing and I give her a wink. She rolls her eyes, hating me like always.

Old people are the best, I tell ya.

I skip down our steps and start to jog to our parking garage. I check my pocket for money and picture ID, crossing both of of the mental checklist.

My phone's there too.

It’s following me, I swear.

As if it knows I’m thinking about it, the wretched thing vibrates. I pull it out of my trousers and squint at the screen. I close one eye then narrow the other. Gosh, I need some glasses or something.

Oh it’s a text.

Joyous.

I don’t recognize the number at all. Not a shred of remembrance. I start to panic, like maybe this stupid bump on my head wiped years of memory like on The Vow (starring Channing Tatum).

Huh, that’s weird. It’s Niall Horan.

He wants to know how I’m feeling.

With a smiley face attached.

Groaning back disgust at the phone I consider texting back. I do. But I only text a few words and it takes me about a minute to do it. I hate phones, by the way. In case you didn’t get that.

I pretty much tell Niall that I recovered like a superhero and now I was bored. As I wait for his reply I pull my vehicle of choice out of its parking spot: my baby blue bike. It’s got a little white basket and an adorable little horn. Kudos to Abigail for the sparkly streamers on the back wheel.

I put my sunglasses on my face and then start to pedal out of our cul-de-sac. I’ve hit a street corner when I feel my phone buzz again. Niall says that he’s bored too. And that he’s driving around town with nothing to do. He tells me where’s he’s at: which isn’t far from where I am. I wonder what the heck he’s doing so far away from Mr. Gallows house: he lives over two hours’ drive away from my house.

I take control of the situation and tell him to meet me at the nearest Starbucks: someone named Lena has a tea obsession that needs to be fulfilled.

I grip one of my handle bars and leave my other arm dangling. I have to stop and wait for traffic on the busiest road. I balance myself like a true master with both of my feet on the ground on either side of my bike.

“Hey baby,” I hear someone say. I just ignore whatever it was and start to pick at my nails. “I like your bike.”

Okay. Creepy American voice is talking to ME.

I turn my head to see a pair of boys siting in the front of a truck. The one on my side of the road is nodding his head up and down to the lame song on his radio.

“Thanks,” I say simply. I turn my attention back to the road.

“What’s your name?”

I cock my head to the side. I catch a sniff of whatever is brewing in the cab of the red truck. Crinkling my nose I say, “I bet yours is Charlie Sheen. You smell like a couple of potheads.”

Lame, I know. But it’s the only thing I had to say.

The traffic starts to move again. I wink at the redhead and then pedal away. I can hear his friend laughing hysterically as I leave. I can’t help but smile.

I pull into the Starbucks parking lot and take a sharp turn. I hop off the bike at the bike racks, pulling my lock and chain out of my basket. I struggle for a minute to get the thing secure and safe: it would suck to come out after a nice tea time and find my precious bike gone.

I walk into the coffee shop. The AC is cranked up on high to keep the very few costumers happy, I guess. There’s only a couple of old people and a young business guy at the tables.

I don’t see Niall or the others anywhere.

I plop myself down on a bench in the corner. I pick up a newspaper that’s sittin’ next to me. It’s had coffee spilled across the front but that doesn’t make it unusable.

I pull a pen from my purse. I flip to the last page of the edition, searching for the word games.

Darn it! Someone beat me to it!

I slam the front page closed and push the paper as far away from me as I can. It flutters to the floor.

“Easy there,” I hear someone say. “What did the poor paper ever do to you?” Niall Horan appears and takes a seat next to me. Behind him in a trail are Louis, Zayn, AND Liam Payne.

My heart picks up speed.

Across the table from me Louis and Liam sit. At the end of the table Zayn pulls a chair and flips it around, sitting backwards.

“You look pretty spry for someone who was in the hospital,” Louis teases. He’s wearing a tank top that shows the words tattooed across his chest and the pictures down his right arm. I’m so jealous of it, honestly.

“I recovery quickly I guess,” I say. “Mum used to say it was because I’m stubborn.”

“I’m sure that Harry’s sorry about it all… Deep down inside,” Liam tells me with a nod. But he and I both know that’s most likely untrue.

“Deep DEEP DEEP down inside,” I say. “Maybe.”

“We were going to swing by your house to check up on ya,” Niall says. “But we couldn’t find your place.”

“Probably best. It’s a mess right now,” I say.

Liam stands up from the table. “I’ll go order,” He says. “What do you want?” he asks me.

“Hot tea,” I answer.

“It’s like eighty degrees outside,” Niall laughs.

“I like tea, what can I say?”

“Alright I’ll be back,” Liam says with a smirk. I watch his blue t shirt back as he saunters off to the register.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” Louis asks me.

I shrug and say, “Most of it. Up to the part I decided to leave, I guess. Everything’s kinda blurry.”

Louis readjusts himself in his seat, scooting closer to the table and to me on the other side. “So you DON’T remember passing out?”

I slowly give my head a shake. What on earth is this boy ON? He’s acting mad.

“Okay,” Louis says.

I roll my eyes.

I’m reaching for a packet of sugar when Zayn says in his mellow voice, “I can’t believe Harry never mentioned you.”

“It’s believable,” I say with a shrug. I tear the sugar packet and dab some on my tongue. “I mean, we hate each other now.”

“But he told Louis,” Niall says. “Harry tells everything important to Lou.”

“Hazza thinks I’m his diary,” Louis says.

“Hazza?” I repeat. “Wow. I haven’t heard anyone call him that since secondary school.” I take another mouthful of sugar and then pucker my lips. Wait- he tells everything to Louis? How much does this boy really know? “Did he tell you what happened... between us?”

Louis nods slowly.

“Huh. And I’m sure it was extremely accurate.”

“Well,” Zayn urges. “What happened?”

Liam takes his seat again with the ticket stub for our drinks. He’s already immersed in the conversation even though he just got back. “Yeah I still don’t understand what could be so bad to tear you both apart- you were friends for ten years before that, weren’t you?”

I nod.

Louis looks to his band mates. His hair flops to the side and he says, “Harry was convinced that Lena was having sex with this guy named- named, uh…”

“Donovan,” I mutter. I can feel my cheeks getting hot and red. I stare down at the table. This is a nice table. Very round and… table-y.

“Yeah! Donovan!” Louis agrees. “Anyway, Harry told Lena’s folks and they freaked out.”

“And sent me to BIBLE SUMMER SCHOOL,” I add to the story.

Niall shifts around uncomfortably in his bench seat. “So,” he says. “You never…?”

“Of course not,” I say. “I was fifteen. Donovan was my science partner: we never really went out like we said we did.”

“You were just friends?” Louis asks. “Harry seemed convinced you two were in a serious relationship.”

I bite my lip.

Am I really ready to spill a secret I had been keeping for five years?

Oh they don’t know the boy. It won’t hurt anyone.

“Donovan is… gay,” I say. “I never told Harry that.”

“He probably wouldn't have freaked out so much if he knew that though,” Louis says.

I shake my head. “I promised Donovan I wouldn’t ever say anything to Harry. Because I wasn’t the one that Donovan liked… It was Harry. He was practically in love with him.”

Everyone at the tables’ mouths drop.

I’ve shocked them all.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Liam says. He waves his hands around in confusion; I can see a wrinkle in between his furry eye brows. “So after that you told Harry’s girlfriend that HE was gay?”

I say, “It was the only sort of thing a fifteen year old could come up with ruin someone’s life. I knew how much he liked Alice… and that’s where I took my revenge.”

“Liam!” The barista hollers. She’s up at the counter with all of our drinks.

I start to stand and walk over but Liam shakes his head. “I got it,” he says and then smirks.

Why oh why do I have butterflies in my tummy?

I shake my head. NO. No cutsie feelings for Liam Payne allowed, Lena. JUST NO.

I sit back down and cross my arms over my chest.

It takes me a moment to realize that everyone’s eyes are on me. I blink up at them like, “What?”

“Does the story continue?” Niall asks.

“The rest is history,” I say. “We went back to school the next fall as enemies. A suspension here and a broken finger there,” I fade away with nothing else to say.

“He broke your finger?”

I smirk, “Nope Mister Zayn. One of my proudest moments is that day I slammed his hand in the locker.”

Sinister, I know. But you have to understand: we hated each other. There was no going back to that old friendship. Nope, that was down the representational friendship drain.

“Your tea mam,” Liam narrates. He sets my mug down in front of me. I grin and wrap my hands around the cup, feeling the warm stuff spread across my fingers. I bring the tea to my face and take a sniff.

“But enough about me and Harry,” I say. I take a sip of my cup o’ heaven then continue. “What about you four? Any stories to share?”

Louis slurps his Frappuccino. “You probably know a lot more than we can tell,” he says.

“You have to remember,” I say. “I’m not one of your stalkers. Anything you tell me will be breaking news.”

“That’s refreshing,” Niall says. He smiles over at me before taking a gulp of his smoothie.

“Any of you lovely lads single?” I ask casually. I’ve never been too great at small talk but eh, might as well give it a shot.

“Not me,” Louis says. He’s glowing like a freaking Christmas tree. “Her name is Eleanor,” He tells me. Louis’ crooked grin is plastered on his face and his eyes are shining. “She’s at Uni. We’re going to meet this weekend, actually.”

“That’s sweet,” I say.

“Perrie and I met during the X Factor,” Zayn says. He sets down his cup of Joe. “I think you’d like her.”

“That name sounds really familiar,” I say more to myself than anyone else.

Niall nudges me. “Little Mix,” he whispers.

“Oh! Duh,” I say with a laugh. “Abigail and the boys love those girls. I don’t blame them, the girls are great.”

“I think so too,” Zayn says with a bright smile.

“I’m single as a Pringle,” Niall says out of the blue. I turn to look at the cute Irish boy and he grins. “What about you?”

“Nah. I don’t ever have enough time for anything lovey dovey,” I say. “Besides, it would take a special guy to deal with all this.”

“Wouldn’t be that hard,” Niall says. I can’t tell, but I think that’s supposed to mean something.

From inside my pocket my phone starts to move around. I groan and pull it out, setting it on the table. I open my new text and try to read Ms. G’s message.

“Can someone read this to me?” I ask the group of guys around me. “Everything’s a bit blurry today.”

“Well you DID hit your head,” Liam laughs.

Mr. Payne has a very nice laugh, by the way.

Niall picks up the phone and reads aloud: “Hey Lena. I can’t seem to find Cade’s brown leather jacket. And I can’t remember who we hired last time to watch the pets: I remember they were great. Oh and you have a load of laundry over here.”

I tap the table with my short and stubby finger nails.

“Want me to text her back for ya?” Niall offers.

“Perfect,” I say. I wait until I think he’s ready for my long speech. “Ready?” I ask. He nods. I take a deep breath then say, “The deep brown jacket is in the back of the car. The light one is at the bottom of his dresser: third shelf down. Probably smells like lizard food. Use the Febreeze stuff. The pet sitter’s number is on the left side of the fridge. Her name is Andy. And don’t forget to remind Andy about Wesley’s medicine. It’s in the hallway closet with the dog shampoo. Oh, and I’ll pick my laundry up later this week. It’s only joggers and bras.”

Niall raises a brow but just finishes typing. When he gets done he slides the phone across the table to me.

“You sure sound busy,” Liam says.

“Another day in the life,” I take a little bow and say. I sip a bit of tea. Isn’t that tasty?

Someone else’s phone sings. Liam reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handy dandy looking thing with a big ole screen. He starts to roll his pretty brown eyes at whatever someone has texted him.

I’m staring at his mouth.

His LIPS to be more precise.

AVERT GAZE.

Being the self-controlled girl I am: I quickly look away.

“Harry just texted me,” Liam says.

Yay.

“What did he say?” Niall asks. He uses his finger to swipe the whipped cream from his strawberry smoothie.

“Erm,” Liam clears his throat. His eyes dart up and down from the phone screen to me. “Nothing very nice,” he answers Niall.

Of course. Mister Styles’ has always been the immature one.

…

He’s such a poop head.

I go to take another swallow of tea. I groan because there’s absolutely nothing left in my cup. “I think I should go; and I know Harry will be waiting for you,” I say and stand. “And Hadley will want me back in bed, I’m sure.”

“Hadley?” Niall asks.

“My roommate,” I answer. “She’s very motherly.”

Four members of One Direction stand as I start to steal a few sugar packets for the road.

“Feel better,” Louis says.

I salute him. “Yes sir,” I say with a smile.

Everyone says their goodbyes. I punch Zayn on the arm and he pretends to wince. Thanks buddy. But we all know I’m about as strong as a butterfly with one wing.

The rest of the pack is out the door but Niall is turning to say something else. His snapback is turned down to where I can’t see most of his hair but the strands on his forehead are extra blonde in the sunlight. “Lena,” He says.

“Niall…?” I repeat his statement.

Niall takes his sunglasses from where they were hanging on the neck of his muscle tank. Nervously he snaps them opened and closed a couple times. I wrinkle my brows.

“We should hang out again,” he says. “This was fun.”

“It’s nice to hang out with people my own age,” I agree. “Sure. Why not?”

Niall smiles. He looks like Cade when we walk through the front gates of the zoo. Kid in the candy store, I guess you could say.

Pretty soon he’s left too. And it’s just me on the front steps of Starbucks. The sun is currently hiding behind a rather fluffy cloud. It reminds me of candy floss… which makes me think of Hadley. So I slip back inside the café and buy her a large blueberry smoothie thing.

Then I skip back outside. Thank the lucky stars! My bike is still here! It wouldn't be hard for any mediocre criminal to snatch the thing; I never lock it quite right.

Straddling the thing I kick up the kickstand. I try not to make a face plant on the cement as I roll out of the parking lot in sweet style.

I take a sip of Hadley’s drink and then ride on home.