𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕 | Thomas Doherty

𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑 𝟑: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✔

It was finally the day—the day I was going to meet Thomas Doherty. The day he would visit the coffee shop not far from here. I was actually feeling nervous; I didn't know what to expect. Was he going to like me? Hate me? I had no idea. I hadn't met him in person before, so I didn't know what he was like. What should I expect from him? Was he nice? Mean? Rude? I honestly didn't know.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," Lizzy said gently, her voice calm and reassuring.

"I know," I sighed, fidgeting with my hands. "But I just don't know what to expect. What if he's in a bad mood? Or what if he doesn't like me? Or—"

Lizzy cut me off with a playful shake of her head. "Don't worry. It'll be fine. I promise."

She moved behind me, running her fingers through my hair as she started styling it. Her focus and calm behavior should have been contagious, but my nerves were stubborn.

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice small. "I still don't know..."

"Yes, I'm sure," she said, with a smile in her voice. "Now, c'mon, let's get you into the outfit you picked out."

"Okay," I murmured, taking a deep breath.

This is the scariest day of my life—having to meet him in person. What will I say? What will I do? What will happen? Will I fail? Will I mess it up? I don't know. Am I thinking negatively? Yes. Is there a positive side for me? No, not really.

But still, a small part of me knows I could fall in love with him. Yet I can't—and I'll make sure I won't. I can't. I need to cheat on him. I have to, because that was my plan all along.

I need to keep this going; otherwise, I've failed, and I can't let that happen. This needs to be done. The cheaters need to pay—otherwise, I will.

There I was, sitting on my bed, waiting for Lizzy to come back with the outfit she had chosen for today. I guessed this was a tough job for her since it was taking so long. But finally, she came back with the clothes. She walked over to me and handed them to me.

Here's your outfit," she said.

"Thanks."

I grabbed the clothes from her hand and stood up. I looked at them. This was so not my style—but, strangely, I kind of liked them.

I walked over to the bathroom and stepped inside. Quickly, I changed into the outfit, then went to the mirror to do my makeup: dark around the eyes and pink on the lips. Once that was done, it was time to reveal the full look.

"So, what do you think?" I asked.

"You look amazing," she replied.

"I think I'm ready."

"You better be, 'cause he's going to be at that coffee shop in about twenty minutes."

"Shit, really?" I exclaimed, bolting downstairs as fast as I could.

I had to be on time; otherwise, my chance would be gone—and believe me, I needed that chance. If I didn't take it now, when would I ever meet him? Never. I knew that for sure. He's a famous star, and his life doesn't follow a routine. He doesn't do the same thing twice.

I had to be there—at the right moment, at the right time—because he could be gone before I even walked in.

I hurried to the door, flung it open, and stepped outside.

"Forgotten anything?" Lizzy asked.

I patted my pocket and realized with a shock—I'd forgotten my key. Where was it?

"My key," I said, panic spreading across my face as the realization hit me.

Lizzy held up the key, and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," I said, walking over to take it from her.

"I thought I lost it somewhere on the street yesterday."

"No, you didn't," she replied. "But there's no time to lose—go now!" She gave me a firm push through the door.

"Bye!"

"Bye!" I called back, shooting her a look that said, Are you serious?

Now, it was time to do this. I gathered all my courage and started walking toward the coffee shop. I was so nervous, I couldn't even tell if I was still on time.

What if I got there and he'd already left? Anything could happen. How could I know for sure that I was going to meet him? And what if I didn't?

If my plan fell apart, it would be the worst. I wouldn't get the chance to make him feel what it felt to be cheated on. That thought alone sent a wave of determination through me.

Before I even realized it, I was standing in front of the coffee shop.

I peeked through the window to see if he was inside, but I couldn't really tell. I took a deep breath, then opened the door and walked in.

Should I order first, or look for him? I figured ordering would be the best choice—after all, it would be weird to just be here without getting a coffee or anything. This was, after all, a coffee shop.

So, I walked over to the bar.

"Hey, can I help you with something?" a boy with blond hair and green eyes asked.

"Um, I'd like a latte."

"Okay, coming right up," he said, handing the note he wrote on to the brown-haired girl behind him.

I waited for my coffee. It didn't actually take that long. When it was ready, he placed it in front of me, and I handed him the money.

"Here you go," he said.

"Thank you."

I turned around—just in time to accidentally bump into someone.

"I'm so sorry—Thomas!" I said, looking up in shock as I saw Thomas Doherty standing right in front of me. Was I dreaming, or had I really just bumped into him?

"Do I know you?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion as he looked me over.

"Oh, no, you don't," I mumbled, my gaze dropping to the ground, feeling awkward.

"Wait... I do recognize you. At least your face," he said, squinting slightly, as if trying to place me.

"Uh, I don't know... maybe?" I stammered, glancing back up at him, my heart pounding as I looked into his eyes.

"Were you at the bridge accident?" he asked suddenly.

"What?!" I froze, taken aback. How did he know about that?

"The one with the girl who almost fell off. Her name was Paris." He paused, and I felt a rush of panic. How did he know my name?

"Yeah... I know about that," I said, still processing his words. "But... how do you know?"

"Well," he continued, "I was the one who saved her."

My breath caught in my throat. "I am that Paris... I'm Paris Day."

"The one that almost got threw off the bridge by their ex?" His voice softened with recognition. "That's why I recognized you."

"I thought it was you..." he said, still looking at me, as if trying to figure out how it all made sense.

"But... how..." I trailed off, lost for words.