Pheobe's P.O.V
I stood at his table dumbstruck, I swore I would never wash my face again, then us-swore it because it would get wet anyways. I realized that he just, even the most tiniest bit, love me. I didn't realize I was grinning until some pensioners looked at me weirdly, like I was a stripper. The thought was unlikely, although my friends think I have a dirty mind and I think of boys a lot,but that's not strictly true, but some friends are like that. After the quick day dream I cleared his table and sneakily picked up his napkin, on the corner there was some blue ink, so I turned it over and their was a number on the back, it read : 09776 649302 (A.N DO NOT RING THIS NUMBER PLEASE) I slipped it into my packet and rearranged the table cloth,perfect. Before heading to the bin with his tray of rubbish, i recognized his coat laying on the back of the chair. It was perfectly spaced out and I could'nt help smiling at the thought that he had left it there on purpose, just for me to pick up and take to him.
"I'm done!" I shouted into the kitchen, dad emerged from the door way just as I pushed through the double doors dramatically. I was still wearing my Nando's apron and my hair was still stuck in an extremely tight bun, so without even taking a thought about it, I threw my apron in the nearby bin and let my hair out. His jacket was still in my hand, and boy it must of cost quite a bit, not like a cheapo primark one. I didn't really know what to do with it until i looked down at my stretchy shirt. Not recognizing the stupidity of the idea, I stuffed the jacket up my shirt, so it looked like i was preggo. Well, the idea sure worked, in different ways. Everyone made space for me to come through, and they just stared down at the uneven lump under my shirt. When everyone was out of the way, it wasn't hard to find a crew of reporters crowding around a beach blonde boy with peri-peri sauce on his chin. I rushed towards him and threw the reporters out of the way. It was pretty awkward when I was next to him, as my stomach was drawing some attention from the reporters that were still on their feet.
"Niall," one reporter asked. "When did this happen?" She motioned her microphone at my stomach.
"No its not what you think!" I said panicking. "Were not -"
"Mark I need a story now!" One reporter chipped in. The murmur spread through the crowd. And Niall looked at me, with his blue eyes, then walked away.
"Would you like your jacket back?" I asked.
"Keep it." He said, and he walked away.
