If You Like Me - A Louis Tomlinson Love Story (ON HOLD AS OF 5/20/14)

Chapter 8

After taking my sister and I to school and having to explain her tardiness to the front office I was sitting in class waiting for the teacher to come back from printing something off in the copy room when my phone started vibrating. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket only to see that Louis was calling me. I saw everyone else on their phones so I answered, albeit quietly.

“Hello?” I said softly.

“Taylor?”

“Yeeessss.” I dragged out the word to emphasize it.

“It’s Louis.”

“I know this - I have your number saved in my phone sir.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. What do you need?”

“Oh, right, um, when are you taking me back to my hotel?” He asked.

“Um, when I get home from school?” I questioned sarcastically.

“Which is when?”

“About two thirty or three.”

“Can you hurry? I have a recording session at four.”

“Louis I can’t make school go any faster.” I told him. Bad choice to use his name. Everyone, or, well, almost everyone, turned and looked at me.

“Can’t you like, ditch the end of the day?”

“Well, I could, if I didn’t have to worry about bringing my sister home.”

“She could ditch too though, right?” I sighed heavily.

“Yeah, she could if she hadn’t been late today, and if her education wasn’t more important than getting you to your recording session.” Again, bad choice. now with the mention of Louis’ name and ‘recording session’ everyone was full on staring at me.

“Oh...” His voice seemed sad.

“Be ready to go at my house by two forty five at the latest. Make sure you lock the door when you leave and sit on the porch. Have the address of the studio on your phone so we can get there and I’ll drop you off. Let the people in charge of that whole thing know that you’re gonna be late, too.” I told him.

“Will do. Thank you Taylor!”

“You’re welcome.. I have to go. I’m in class.”

“Oh, shit, whoops. Sorry love, see you later, thanks again.”

“Bye Louis.” I said and hung up. Everyone was looking at me, and when I say everyone, I do mean everyone.

“Who was that?” Some girl I used to be friends with, Bailey, asked.

“A friend.” I responded, setting my hands in my lap, phone enclosed between them.

“A friend that calls you during school?” She questioned.

“Yeah, he’s not from here.” I told her, smiling politely.

“Where’s he from?”

“England. What is this, an interrogation?” She shook her head, laughing.

“Wait, so, let me get this straight: you know someone named Louis, who is from England and has a recording session in a studio the morning after One Direction were in L.A.?” Bailey put together. Shit.

“Umm...” I stuttered, starting to flush. They caught me. I was dead... really dead.

“Exactly. You’re such a fucking liar Kraemer. No wonder you don’t have any friends.” Bailey told me, a stupid smirk finding it’s way to her face.