#mtmm

“I’m not sure,” Niall used to say. He said this when he was bored or flustered or endlessly tired from fishing for answers. He said it as a go-to statement, when he didn’t want to be bothered. And if a statement could be used more than anything else in the world, he said this with an air of unfinished finality, a mess of a paradox—the same way someone would say, ‘I’m done, I’m confused, but I’m not changing anything about it.’ Because Niall wasn’t a person who’d go blind and pave the road for his heart. He was logical, a follower of his mind, and basically, so very unlike her.

 He would be determined, until he’d realize that it would be impossible. Cez would think it’d be impossible, which is why she’d be determined. In the a little way, Cez thought that they were her own little paradox, if placed together.

 Niall wouldn’t second-guess any of his decisions. It’s not who he is. Cez, on the other hand, would constantly seek for a second chance, even if her brain said otherwise.

 +

 The One Direction tutoring center resembles more of an art studio and a corporate office mixed together rather than what she had imagined it to be. Cez usually had bouts of imagination enough to fill a pack of elephants, ready enough to spin the cogs of Willy Wonka’s factory into a non-probable demise, but here... well, she shouldn’t have picked up an arm to think, because she’s not exactly sure if she’s pleased with the minimalistic theme the center’s got going on.

 When Louis forks over to an opposite direction from where Liam’s going, his head nodding at the male’s bathroom  plaque and a mumbled ‘see ya later,’ Cez has less than a second to wave an enthusiastic goodbye before she uses her short legs to run after her soon-to-be boss.

 Cez scurries at Liam’s pace, big strides that beckon the long hallway alike to the cramp walkway leading towards the bathroom back at home. Her thoughts wander at a funny monochrome statue of what must be a naked lady and her torso smelling her own shiny armpit, unfortunately Liam snaps his finger to tell her to quicken up her pace before she can dare snapchat it to Alice. “Ever heard of Holden?” He says nonchalantly, bringing up his finger to sweep it against a crook of one wall. He inspects his finger, and is pleased to see it dirt-free.

 “Of course,” She perks up, happy to answer. “It’s the preppy boarding school that kids with famous parents go to. The Guardian had an article on it.”

 He continues, amused. “Glad you know. Well, we have a partnership with Holden and we have tutoring lessons there on Saturdays. It’s a wonderful school to tutor for, don’t be afraid of what Louis curses off about that school.”

 “Why?”

 “Because Louis will definitely restrain you from going, he hates it there. And he says it smells too garlicky for him, messes up his stomach. But he still goes there every Saturday anyway.”

 “He gets paid though, right? I think it’ll be fun. Children and a posh school, how bad can it be?”

 “Right. Keep up that enthusiasm. I don’t know what Louis’ got going with Holden. He hates it there, but he’s got his own crazy kid cult that he can’t help but coddle, so yes, it’s not bad at all.” Liam leans against the door handle. “So here’s where you’ll be working.”

 With a single pump, her vision alertly takes in the busy querying and bustling footsteps marking up and down the floor. First of the few tables Cez’s eyes have looked at are uncontainable and messy, with ball-point pens in metal holders, stacks of a4 paper, and manned by busy young adults that either have their back hunched over a clipboard, or their respective Mac screens. A mid-twenty looking guy in velvet jeans has his own screen blaring a Stranger Things episode, but he frantically switches it over to an Excel sheet once he catches the sight of Liam.

 Even if the fluorescents above them are making her eyes water, it obviously doesn’t matter because this place really looks promising despite the lighting flaw. Not like any sort of sham she expected she’ll be getting into, thankfully. God has finally blessed her with a job that had an office she actually likes, as shallow as it sounds. Getting a job through a should-be date is surely the worst way to acquire one, but to her it doesn’t matter as long as she’s no longer unemployed.

 Hmm… It’s a bit of a horror story she’ll be telling her mom, for sure, once she gets home for Christmas.

 “’Scuse me, miss,” she ducks down, cheeks flushing, as a cute guy in sleeves shoot a Trident-bright smile at her, the printer on his arm looking like it weighed as heavy as a teacup Chihuahua.

 As she stands up properly, her skin bristles at all the opportunities of starting fresh. Here, she imagines as she wades through her potential new co-workers and maybe-friends, she can be anyone. She can be someone exciting. No more nerdy Francesca, or boring Francesca. The possibilities are endless.

 +

             “Here we are,” announces Liam, “Let’s get to the science department,” half-way blinking rapidly and half-way wearily smiling. Sometime between stepping into this certain hallway Liam’s shoulders has constricted, looping his white jacket around his stressed shoulders like a squished dollop of whip-cream. She’s only about to question him when they curve around the corner and she’s hugged by a cloud of coffee-shop aroma and unfortunately, assaulted by a spray of goosebumps and a raised heartbeat.

 Oh no, oh no. Don’t tell me... Her eyes do not betray her. Well, the glasses are new. The black slim full rim frames are perched perfectly on his nose, like a sleeping crow on a tree branch; while his head is bowed down, eyes skipping past pages of printed paper, her blood boils as his stubbly chin is on full-view, and she simply stands there—excited, afraid, and unable to move.

             “Francesca?” Liam questions, skimming the calendar on his phone, politely unaware, yet oddly irregularly different from his usual composure when she first met him.

             “Cez,” she answers instinctively, and hell no, it’s exactly like in movies and everything is going in slow-motion. Niall snappishly cocks up his head at the sound of her voice, blue eyes flicking over in her proximity. It’s both climactic and anti-climactic at the exact same time, which she supposes it definitely should be, if you would ever meet your childhood crush again in your young twenties. Composed yet mildly freaked out—because she’s an adult and she must be mature.

             After a few painstaking seconds, it’s Niall who hesitantly greets her. “Cez… it’s great to see ya?” However, it’s ironic that his face says anything but. His fingers brush up against the edges of his brown hair, bewildered. There’s something about the way he says Cez that pushes up blood up to her ears. It’s a mixture of painful embarrassment and pure torture, considering what happened the last time she was face-to-face with him... A lodge of nerves are coming to block her voice box, and she literally wants to whisk herself away from this abrupt mess.

             And here goes another part of her body’s constant flush, she can feel the blood peeping up her neck. “Uh—“ She squeaks, “Uh, what’s up, Niall? Long time no chat, yeah?” Oh. My. Gosh.

             She can’t believe after years and years of no contact, this is where they meet again. In a tutoring center, for goodness’ sake!

             His surprise lasts for a brief moment, but like a bird indeed, Niall flattens his ruffled feathers and stands up quickly to shake her hand, as if no time has passed at all. She finds herself gripping back with intent, stupidly marveling how the once bottled-blond boy with the penchant for science textbooks and math equations suddenly decided to grow and broaden up in her absence. Staring down at her, his straight face—clean eyes and unsmiling lips—doesn’t waver. It reminds her of spelling bees and science Olympiads, them being partnered together. All the time. “The replacement for Kim, yeah?”

             Sensing his address, Liam looks up with an abnormally straight face of his own. “Yeah, show her the ropes tomorrow, okay Horan?” Liam faces her right after, now with a smile. “After all, the kids don’t teach themselves.”

             They go off to, ostensibly, Liam’s office. The temptation to turn around makes her neck itch, it’s like her brain is telling her to take another glimpse to make sure if it really was Niall James Horan, and not just a figment of her highly active imagination. Her desperation seeps through her pores, an ache lodged in her throat hoping that she can study him—study every part of him, frantic to see what changes he had encountered over the years of her absence. Turn around, Cez.

 But she doesn’t. She thinks she can feel the heat on the back of her neck, but that must be her brain playing tricks on her self-esteem.

             When Cez enters after Liam in his clean (how surprising!) office, she blinks when Liam lets out a steam of relief. Patting his chest, as if he’s rewarding himself for a blip of triumph, his face floods with content. “Phew, thank god you survived that. Scares the shit outta me, that Horan. Taking bets, he’s the one who made Kim go AWOL.”

             “You’re scared of Niall?” She says, disbelief mauling her features. The tone layered over Liam’s voice immediately takes her skin in annoyance, because Niall’s as harmless as a goldfish. A brunet goldfish, with a brain that can make Einstein snatched from his wig.

             “Ah.” Liam rolls his eyes and checks his watch, looking like he can sense her defensive stance about Niall, “You know the weirdo?”

             Cez coughs, “…He was my—“

             “Don’t say boyfriend.”

             “He’s not!” Although, Cez wanted him to be. “He’s just someone I’ve gone to school with in the past. He’s a go--” What kind of friend was he, anyway? “…He’s a friend.”

             Liam says, “Of course, you got the same school in your records. I’ve checked, didn’t I tell you? Just didn’t think that you would really know, know each other.”

             “Funny,” she sneers.

             Liam ignores her. Instead, he runs to his table with a hundred-watt grin. “This is even better. Since you know each other you’ll definitely get along better than Kim and Niall did. I hope you don’t run off because I’m always in need of staff.” He finishes it off with fire under his eyes, although she doesn’t bother to question him about that further.

             “Um, I don’t think—“

             Liam flips through papers, jotting something down. “Okay, now just sign this and you’ll be off to work starting tomorrow. Do you have any questions that I need to address? Have any problems with the department you’ll be working in or anything else aside from that?” His words run together too quickly and she only finds herself looking into Liam’s eager smile until she realizes that she’s got to respond or else she’ll look like a gob smacked blob.  

             Cez steps closer to investigate the paper he’s got out for her, her fingers curling around Liam’s black Muji pen. In big black print, her name listed her under the science department, under the capitalized NIALL HORAN as her new ‘head,’ basically her new boss who she’s got to follow the whole time for the next duration of her future in this tutoring center. Is she really going to follow through with this? Technically, she had already been hired by Liam but the only thing that it isn’t official is that she’ll work in the science department with her childhood crush.

             But her hand speaks for itself, pretty sure of what Cez truly wants. Without further ado, she marks her signature on it with a single flourish over her printed name, officially listing her under the Science department in One Direction tutoring center, complete with a panicky heart and a black 0.5 Muji-penned type of finality.

 +

             Someone in orange Crocs runs in the girl’s bathroom with a flurry ready to pull out the thunder from her under, and Cez immediately pushes up her feet against the wooden stall, hiding her shoe profile, until she hears another door closes and clicks to a lock. Sighing, she puts more weight against her own toilet seat, and glances down on her cracked phone screen.

             It’s 7 o’clock. Technically, she’s a bit too early for her first day at work, but the chances of meeting Niall in the girl’s bathroom is clearly none, and she’s willing to grab it at her reach while she still can. Goodness, signing that contract yesterday didn’t really shake her into seriousness about working with Niall. It was only the next morning when she had already taken the early train to work, got a bagel along the way, and actually stepped in the elevator leading up to her floor, was when she realized that she was going to see Niall again.

             Another part of her wants to slap herself silly, thinking how moronic it is that a boy is obliviously rattling her to the core right now. That, in actuality, a boy was and now, is, the hindrance to unlocking her future potential, whatever it’s going to be. Literally, the idea of Niall is the current dilemma that’s stopping her from acting like her cool, casual self (who was she kidding? She was never cool and casual.) It’s stopping her from perusing her plan (the one where she wanted to be someone new in this fresh, unfamiliar start that she was supposed to be in), and she can’t possibly do that now—not when someone from her past has floated up abruptly back in her life.

             Simply put, Cez is scared to see Niall. She has a million reasons to be scared.

             Can’t she please just get locked in this stall forever? She closes her eyes for God’s intervention, praying He’s got an answer to her gigantic first-world problem.

             “Excuse me?” A knock and an irritated voice coming against her door interrupts her hopeless monologue. “Er, are you done? I need to use the toilet and you’ve been in there for, like, twenty minutes.” It isn’t God, but rather one of His annoying creations.

             Cez leaps out of there with her jacket and her purse, leaving the toilet seat down, letting the girl pass, and immediately she scans herself on the mirror for embarrassing cream cheese stains; but, the voice comes up again, “Um, ew. Aren’t you going to flush?” Beckons the same girl, her grimace saying that she’s not going in unless Cez does something.

             “What?” Cez stares blankly.

             “Like, you didn’t flush. That’s disgusting and unhygienic,” her kohl-lined eyes narrow and seizes her up. “I’ve never seen you in my life. Who are you anyway? I’m reporting you to the Health Crisis center ASAP.” She snaps her fingers for emphasis.

             There’s a pregnant pause. She isn’t sure if she is to answer the first statement or the next question, but she proceeds to the latter instead, thinking that it’s better to introduce herself first before making a first impression that she’s a notorious non-handwasher.

             “I’m Cez, and don’t worry, I didn’t take a dump if that’s what you’re thinking, I swear. It’s a long story but I’m actually—“ The girl brings a hand up to stop her. And she bursts out laughing a second later. “I’m sorry,” she tells Cez’s startled eyebrows. “I honestly don’t give a shit, Bambi, I was just taking the piss out of you. Consider it as a rite of passage, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

             “Um.”

             “Perrie Edwards, at your service.” The blonde smiles like she’s in an insurance commercial. Though, Cez doesn’t deny that there’s a sort of underlying mischief in it.  

 “English department. Saw you walking down the square yesterday. Me and Jesy sweared it was a new hire Liam roped in again. And here am I again, correct! Liam’s the most predictable prat, evah,” there’s a second where she takes another breath in, and subsequently, she starts again. “Oh, if you’re wondering, the square is where most of the desks are for the English and Maths tutors. Either way, people from the rest of the departments hang out there because it’s closer to the pantry, which by the way, is tiny as hell.” Her continuous talking spins her head crazier than Liam did.

             Clearing her throat, Cez thinks that she’s probably the only reserved one in this center. “This place seemed more of a real-time office than what I imagined a tutoring center would be. It’s honestly kind of crazy. Where do we even teach the children? And why is everyone here so hectic?”

             “It’s not just a tutoring center, we’re also an educational publishing house and we release updated review books every year. The third floor is reserved for the one-on-one handling. We have five rooms for tutoring over there. The fourth floor, on the other hand, has got the three classrooms for general review sessions. Most of our kids come from fancy schmancy public and private schools, with parents willing to dump us in cash to take them in for five hours a day like fucking daycare.” Perrie cackles at the thought of that. She narrows her eyes for the second time when she turns to look at the mirror to examine her dyed side part. “What did you say your department was again?”

             Cez places her hands together into prayer formation, “I didn’t. I’m under the Science department. Ya know, Niall—“

             “Horan, he’s the Science head,” Perrie slowly nods. And Perrie pivots her thigh to the side to cock her head out like a parrot at the mirror (either to check out the back of her hair or if the seams of her pants are straight—Cez isn’t sure), “You know, we only had three people under him for the past year, and let me tell you things that gone over there were as messy as a Jackson Pollock artwork. You didn’t hear this from me but I heard that Kim, she was here until she scrammed, couldn’t take the guy. He was a nightmare, as so she said—It was alright, I guess, I wasn’t too keen on Kim, either. A dark horse, that one.”

             Honestly, that only makes her skin prickle faster than she can say ‘go.’ Cez already had a feeling that Liam and Louis didn’t like Niall. It had been apparent in the elevator yesterday, and Liam’s reaction soon after they had encountered him both absurd and fascinated her. While it was interesting to accumulate these brand new descriptions of the New Niall in her brain, she nevertheless knew that all these reactions and words sting her powerfully as if they had been talking about her. In her mind, Cez still thought of Niall as a childhood friend—a part of her past that was also an extension of her arm. It doesn’t seem fair that she’s taking things personally, but come on! She’s nursed a crush on that boy for multiple years. She definitely will take things personal.

             ...Despite that fact that she’s currently tactfully avoiding his presence as much as possible. Like, for example, now.

             In the midst of her thinking, Perrie had apparently still been talking, “...But not like we know, too, I mean, we stay away from him as much as possible.”

             “Eh, I’ll just have my own judgement when I meet him,” Cez only realizes she had said this a few seconds too late. “Who knows, maybe he’s secretly a fluffy teddy bear?” She tries for upbeat, but it rings fake and dry a bit too much across the tile floors.

             “Doubt it,” Perrie says, unaware of her tone. “He’s probably a secret raging serial killer who preys on midget Asian girls. How tall are you anyway? I can practically eat you in one bite!”

 +

             He wasn’t there! Is her first thought when she arrives at her marked desk—marked, speaking, with a taped paper slip with her name and smiley face on it. Her chair sits in front of her desk, which thankfully, has its back towards Niall’s respective desk.

 This will enable her to work with their backs facing each other. No way is she going to spend her hours glancing up her screen to have accidental locking eyes with said man. Granted, Niall is a sight for sore eyes but she isn’t willing to sacrifice her blush-able cheeks, that is doomed to be the bane of her existence, just to catch a quick glance of him. She isn’t that desperate.

             “Cez,” behind her, his voice startles her so much that she knocks right into her desk. They both watch (her—wide-eyed and mentally groaning, and him—probably sneering over her existence) as an empty red pen holder clatters after it crashes like Humpty Dumpty (without the cracks).

 If it had a life, she’d be on her knees now to hug its’ soreness away. Just so she can get away from interacting with Niall, even for a few minutes. But the pen holder’s a pen holder. And she can only pick it up and lay it back on her empty desk (it lasted for two seconds) before glancing up again at the man with the calculating blue eyes.

             “Sorry. The pen holder. It fell.” She says bluntly, shrugging her shoulders like ‘what can she do?’ “Uh, hi there.”

             “You’re still quite clumsy.” Niall states after a millisecond of eyeing her cautiously. “Unfortunately.”

             “Yeah,” she laughs awkwardly. “Uh, I guess so.” Did he really just say unfortunately? How rude.

             A tiny pause appears. There are two ways to take hold of this situation; first, she can steer this simple conversation into a boring path, all about work and strictly professional things; or second, she can totally screw it up by talking about the last time she’s seen him...

             Or you know, she can talk about neither.

 “I forgot you were starting today.” He says curtly through slim glasses, beating her. His voice, however, tells her he obviously didn’t forget. Judging by the slight frown on his face (a familiar sight that kind of hugs her as a welcome), he most probably couldn’t.

 Standing there awkwardly, Cez is suddenly microscopically aware of the chipped nail she accidentally broken today when she was hurrying to catch an early train. After all her time in picking a respectable outfit the night before, the broken nail seems to defeat the purpose.

 She’s distinctly aware of the floating ‘um’ in the air, especially due to the lack of noise within the big room and that only two of them are seemingly early today. Cez recalls the Perrie girl mentioning two other workers in the Science department, besides the non-existent Kim, who are supposedly under Niall, too; however her sight catches none of their presence right now.

             “Uh, so, weird huh, how we meet again in a tutoring center?” She starts off lamely.

             Niall gives her a frosty look. “Not really. It’s not the most suitable job for my credentials, but for a starter job I guess it’s fine for a while. For you, I believe, this job is better than nothing.”

             “Excuse you,” she’s surprised at herself when she squawks, “But it was my personal choice to work in this tutoring center! I didn’t get in here because I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She doesn’t add that she got interviewed through a faux date, but it’s not like anyone, most importantly Niall, has to know the details, right?

             “Really?” He arches an eyebrow, looking at her intently. When she nods vigorously, Niall slightly frowns, as though he’s trying to read her. “Is it just me or were you always this small?”

             The change of topic catches her off guard. “I grew,” she fibs lamely.

 He eyes her once, obviously not believing her, before he counters, “I don’t think so. Your hair is different, though. It’s all wavy and long now.” Niall joins her in noise, stretching his hands and getting in his seat.

             It’s the first thing New Niall has mentioned anything about her new appearance, so she’s a bit surprised initially. He’s never really one for descriptions, always saying that whatever occurs in between the lines didn’t matter; for example, the appearance of a character. As long as Katniss was able to overthrow the Capitol, it didn’t matter than she was hot.

             “Says the man who grew his real color out,” she pauses when he just stares, curious. He’s actually waiting of what she’s got to say. “Er—It looks good on you, in fairness. It’s nice, uh, with,” Cez’s eyes catches one of those hipster Moose heads propped against one of the walls in the Square, “With the nature-y feel of this place.”

             He blinks. Even Cez is unsure of what she just said.

             “Thanks very much,” he says unsurely. But she can sense the cogs of his brain working and summing up the fact what she just said equated very much to his supposed answer=what the fuck? “I guess it would be a shame if my natural color didn’t fit me.” And Niall halts from getting different papers from his drawer and he flips around. His fingers curl around the neck of his hair.

 “Okay, let’s—Work stuff. That’s your desk,” he points behind him. Even if she knows that already, she nods like she doesn’t. She glances quickly over, and it’s obvious that his attention is fully back on his computer, focused and driven, like what he’s currently doing is the most important thing in the world.

 “Thanks,” Cez walks over, begging herself not bump anything else. Not to interrupt Niall’s concentration. And momentary good graces. She doesn’t need another crash to remind her that Niall exists in some sort of different plane than her—a plane where perfection is reached, basically right next door, and boys with brown fluffy hair and pressed polos and genius brains can get away with breaking girls’ hearts. Specifically, hearts like hers.

 A printer sits in between their desks, each of its sides has wires plugged into it from both of their respective computers. It suddenly gives a mechanical groan, startling her.

             “Right, work stuff.” But Cez realizes that she’s not exactly sure what her ‘work stuff’ should be. She tells Niall, and he looks like displeased to see her interrupt his work, annoying her a bit. All the more she gets flustered because it’s not her fault that her own boss hadn’t told her what to do in the first place.

             Subsequently, he shows her how to connect the Bluetooth printer to her designated computer, how to work several programs designed for the center’s use, and sort out old questionnaires from the new ones. Kim, apparently, has left her work in a state of disarray, and Niall hadn’t got the time to fix it himself. Following his instructions, he uses the mouse to bring up Keynote and he tells her calmly that he needs slides centered on Cell Anatomy, Chemical Bases, and Animal Forms & Functions ready by Wednesday morning, which is tomorrow. At least 30 slides, each.

             Her eyebrows furrow but she resists from asking too much questions.

             “I teach a review session in the afternoon,” Niall explains, distractedly. He must have seen her curious face over the sudden workload. He had removed himself from standing over Cez’s desk to return at his own desk, showcasing that his attention over teaching the newbie has soon come to an end.

             “So,” she says, setting down her bag, processing what he just said, and distracting herself from the remnants of his coffee smell that flew over to her nose when he was showing her where the illegal download file for Campbell’s 10th edition was. “I’m basically your assistant. Just making it clear.”

             “Yes.” Niall says bluntly as she sits on the edge of her chair.

             “Sorry, it’s just that, when Liam was telling me about this job I thought I was going to teach and hang out with kids. Not, you know, be a tutor’s assistant or somethin’.”

             “Who said assisting me was the only thing you’ll be doing? You’ll be helping out Shawn and Julia, two of my tutors. Gotta keep an eye on you, Kim could have left her magical spell to curse you in leaving.” She opens her mouth, but he shockingly smirks. “You’re still the grunt round here, I guess, until I reckon if you’re adequate enough for bigger jobs.”