More Than This

Chapter 5: Getting Ready for the Concert

(A/N): (This story mostly takes place in America). And sorry I've taken over a month to update! There's been A LOT going on in my life the past month and I'm using my school wifi to post this! It's kind of short and boring but I promise they'll meet the boys next chapter, when I actually get a chance to write! Love you all, hope you like it and thanks for being patient! :)

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Chapter 5: Getting Ready for the Concert

My fingers tugged at my pant's zippers, pulling them up after my small body wiggled into the tight black jeans I'd forced myself into. I jerked my Nike hot-pink T-shirt off the hanger located on the right side of the bathroom door and fit it onto my upper body as I listened to Sarah rant about Harry on the other side of the wooden plane standing vertically in between us. I attempted to make a few adjustments to my outfit in front of the reflection hanging on the door in front of me but stopped to the unexpected surmising Sarah had outside. Her big, talkative mouth opened up, sending out a heavy gasp before practically screaming into the other side of the door; "What if he likes you?!"

"Sal, don't be stupid. You think way too much." I rolled my eyes at how pathetic she could be at times. "I just met him today; he just wanted to thank me for ruining my life for his sake." Annoyance poured out of my lips and she acknowledged that fact, even with a door blocking her eye's total contact of my face.

"Why not? You're pretty-" I cut her off before she could continue, knowing full well I wasn't anywhere close to that.

"Sal, don't even start with all this nonsense. Why would an eighteen-year-old pop star almost every girl dreams of look at a girl like me? That sounds less realistic than the story you wrote in sixth grade about Unicorns!" I reasoned. I could only hear a, "He's nineteen, by the way," and a loud, obvious sigh coming from the opposite side of the barrier as I made final adjustments to my hair and turned the door knob.

"Whatever," I mumbled under my breath.

"They do!?" Sarah chuckled as she stared down at my shirt, standing still in her spot, my eyes spontaneously trailing down to where hers was landed. I read the text on my shirt in my head: "Girls surf too!".

"They do! All the time!" I played along, trying to change the mood, landing my focus back on her whilst swinging my hands up in the air as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

"You know, I missed surfing.." Sarah's voice trailed off, her mind traveling 5 years back in time. Her feet slowly took her back to the bed she temporarily "owned" not far away from the room entrance, leaving her to land on the soft furniture.

"You know," I started, mimicking her words while running a pink comb through my slightly wavy hair, "I would go surfing with you one day if I knew how to." We both let out a small giggle recalling the only time I tried to surf with her and almost drowned when I was eleven-years-old.

"Maybe one day you'll learn and we can go together." She spoke genuinely as if to assure me, pulling her second pair of ivory flats onto her left foot. She wore white leggings with an Oxblood three-quarter sleeve belted shirt-dress that went just above her knees, keeping her girly, yet casual look, as always. Her shoulder-length blond hair cascaded freely over her shoulders, looking straight and cute as ever.

The corner of my lips slightly curved upward at her words right before she jumped off her bed, alarmed at what time it was.

"Oh, God! We're gonna be late! Let's go!" She cried before grabbing the same purse she had earlier today and checking herself one last time in front of the mirror before running out the door.

After yanking my same Converse off the floor right underneath me, I followed her out the door, only to realize I'd forgotten something.

"Hold up. Don't shut the door, yet." I noted, pushing the door back and stepping inside the room, again. I ran hesitantly to my bed, aware of the limited time I had, in search of the only thing I loved carrying around almost everywhere, other than my phone.