New York - A Tristan Evans Fanfiction

11

"But you always just seem to stick around and show that you are into me" - New Hope Club

Addison's POV

"There is somebody waiting for you." Tess says as she walks into the kitchen of the café. I look up in surprise but she just shrugs her shoulders.

"I don't know."

"I'll be there in a minute." I tell her and finish doing the dishes. I dry my hands with a towel and put on my roller skates again. I don't really wear them while doing the dishes because, as clumsy and Addie as I am, I'd slip.

I am nervous because I hope it's Tristan who's waiting outside for me but I guess it's just my mother or Vince or Liz. Out of all cases my mother would be the worst.

I take a last look at myself in the mirror that's hanging at the kitchen door and sigh as I notice that The Mob has decided to rebel against me and look like a bird's nest. I quickly put it up into a messy bun - not because I'm one of these beautiful girls who slay the 'I-have-just-woken-up-bun' but because my hear is messy.

I could just straighten my hair but that's something my mother would like and my dictum is to do nothing she would like and everything she would not.

Well, guess I'll stay ugly and lonely forever. But hey, at least there is pizza and chocolate to make me feel better.

As I exit the kitchen, I immediately catch sight of him. How could I not? He is so tall and cute, I bet every girl that isn't blind or completely stupid would look at him.

And so I do look at him. I'm obviously not blind but sometimes I'm not quite sure about the not being stupid part but let's just pretend I'm not stupid and take in his presence.

I might have stared at him for a bit too long because he tilts his head and gives me a curious look.

"Addie?" He asks. I blink and shake my head to wake myself from the daydream I've been dreaming.

"Sorry." I say and smile but Tristan just stares at me, examining my whole body. I look down at the denim shorts, dark green pilot jacket and pastel pink roller blades I'm wearing and I don't know what's wrong with that.

I look up at Tristan again and I feel how I get uncomfortable under his critical glance. I feel the all too well known prickling in my right shoulder again and tense my muscles.
Do I look funny? What's wrong with me?

"What is it?" I ask him sheepishly.

"You know these shorts are... Pretty short?" He asks back and I hesitantly nod my head.

"Yeah... Is this good or bad?"

"Good. You look fucking hot." He blurts out but then he realises what he had just said and immediately corrects himself. "Pretty, I mean. You look pretty."

Tic

"Shitbag."

"God, I'm so sorry." I apologise for calling him shitbag and frantically move my hands but Tristan just grabs them to calm me down.

"No, I'm sorry." He tells me and I relax under his touch. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

He did not really make me feel uncomfortable, rather excited that he finds me hot but of course I won't tell him.

For a second I think about him hitting on me but then I remember that he's gay and with Brad and that he probably told me the compliment as a neutral positioned gay guy. It's like a girl telling another girl she looks hot. Not to hit on her but to make her feel pretty.