For Better or Worse (TMR cast fanfic)

Chapter 8

The first bell chimed throughout the school. I kept glancing at my hand. It had a celebrity's number on it. I grabbed my things for biology and walked off down the hall, very careful to hide my hand. There's no way I wanted anyone seeing the phone number, even though Jasmine and I are the only ones who saw him write it.

I made my way into class, and Jasmine approached me at the doorway. Her smile stretched ear to ear. "Can you show me those autographed pics?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," I said, remembering the little incident this morning. I walked to my desk and set my stuff down, then pulled out the pictures.

She held one in her hands. "Wow," Jasmine said in awe.

Amy, a girl that always kept quiet, walked over to where we were at. She had blonde hair that reached her shoulders and light blue eyes. She was just a couple inches shorter than Jasmine and I. She pointed to the picture of Dylan and smiled, then she looked up at me. "You are so lucky," she chimed.

The bell then rang, and Jasmine placed the picture back down and scurried to her seat that's across the room. Amy went back to her seat. I began placing my pictures back in my bag and noticed movement from the corner of my eye. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that it was Oliver.

"Sup," he said cooly, then sliding into his seat beside me.

"Hey O-man," I laughed.

Oliver glanced at the number on my hand, and I almost pulled it away but I didn't want him to think that anything was wrong. "Is that your new boyfriends number?"

"Yeah, totally," I laughed and rolled my eyes, then turned my attention towards the teacher.

"Alright, everyone in your seats," my teacher, Mrs. Schneider said, "Today we're going over the guidelines for your project."

The entire class groaned and erupted in conversation. Mrs. Schneider crossed her arms and waited. The class eventually silenced and she began to talk when the door squeaked open. Nick appeared, casually late. Like every other day of the year. The girls of the class cooed at his presence. Usually I would too, but I don't feel attracted to him anymore. His whole 'being late' thing is getting old.

He put on his best, 'I'm too hot to get in trouble' face, and walked up to Mrs. Schneider.

"Sorry I don't have a note, but I was trying to get here as soon as I could. I had a locker problem," he said, shrugging.

Mrs. Schneider pinched her nose, then dismissed him to his seat. He walked back to his seat and I could see the slightest smile on his face. Something tells me that it probably wasn't a locker problem that made him late. I don't know what I saw in him. I thought he was a cool guy, but after today, I know he's just another stuck-up popular guy. And, I can't believe I didn't notice it before, but a junior taking a sophomore class? Apparently he isn't the smartest either.

The second class bell rang, and I huddled out of the rowdy classroom and found Jasmine and Oliver. Next up, American History. But all I can think about right now is getting home and seeing if this phone number on my hand is really Dylan O'Brien's.

Finally, after such an exhausting day, the final bell rang and I grabbed my things and exited the school.

When I got home, I scrambled for my phone and carefully put in the numbers that were scrambled on my hand. I got to the fifth digit, and was stumped. I wasn't sure if it was a four or a nine. Crossing my fingers, I go with a four and finish putting in the other numbers.

The ring starts up.

...
...

"Hello?" a voice says.

I jump, and almost scream in excitement. "Hello, Dylan? It's Kiley, the girl you knocked into this morning?"

"Oh, Kiley! Hey!" Dylan said

I rocked back and forth on my bed. I now had the legit number of Dylan O'Brien. I pinched myself to make sure this was real. It was. Although, I probably should've followed this precaution when I first bumped into Dylan and talked to him.

"Wow, hi," I said, not knowing what to talk about.

Dylan laughed. "Well, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out? You seem like a pretty dedicated fan, and it'd be cool to get to know you more."

I couldn't believe what was happening. I had to tell Jasmine. I had to tell my parents. I had to tell everyone I knew. But then Dylan spoke, as if he read my mind. "But you have to promise me you won't tell anyone where we're at. Okay?"

"You have my word. But trust may not be your weakness, considering you gave a crazed fan your phone number when you literally just met them," I laughed.

"Touché," he said. "Then it's on?"

I mentally processed everything that just occurred in the past 60 seconds, then replied. "Yes."

"Great," he said. "You know that giant recording studio that's not too far from where your school is?"

I scan my memories, and I do remember passing it one time. It had a giant fenced gate and beyond that was a dull gray building. The only way you could get in the facility was through a voice activation panel by the gates.

"Yeah," I said.

"Meet me by the main gates tomorrow at 7 pm," Dylan said, "And expect me to wear a fancy get up."

"Okay," I chimed. "Are the producers gonna be okay with you bringing a random girl to the set?"

"Of course, they love me," he laughed.

"Kiley! Dinner is ready!" my mom exclaimed from down stairs.

I really didn't wanna hang up. But I didn't want her anger to dampen my mood when I wouldn't come down.

"I gotta go, it was an honor talking to you," I said, then laughed.

"My pleasure," Dylan said, then hung up.

I hung up the phone the hurried down the stairs before my mom got into a hissy fit.