Spencer P.O.V
I don’t think I’d ever laughed so hard in my entire 19 year existence. Not just like “omfg-that-was-like-the-funniest-thing-I’ve-ever-heard-” laughing, but like “holy-shit- my-lungs-are-going-to-bust-out-out-of-my-chest-and-i’m-pretty-sure-the-sexy-ass-popstar-sitting-next-to-me-thinks-I-have-mental-issues” laughing. Look it up, I’m sure it’s a real term.
I opened my eyes, laughing so hard the tears were pouring down my face, to see Liam staring at me, wide eyed in disbelief.
“Well... That’s not usually the reaction that people have, when I eat their chicken nuggets...” he laughed, “I take it you recognize me,”
‘Recognize you?!’ I thought to myself, ‘You’re Liam James Payne, born August 23, 1993 in Wolverhampton. You only have 1 kidney, love all 3 Toy Story films, and ran cross country in high school.’ I definitely couldn’t tell him that though. My tongue felt trapped in my mouth, I had absolutely no idea what to say next. Here I was, sitting next to the person, my best friend and I had practically worshipped, and yet less than an hour ago I thought he was going to kill me. I thought back to all the conversations I had with Naomi, the two hour conference we once had about the perfect shade of brown his hair was, the way her eyes lit up every time she awoke to see his picture hanging on our chipped walls. He was more than just a celebrity crush to her, he was her source of happiness, every day. ‘Be cool,’ I repeated, ‘Liam Payne just bought you a happy meal, the last thing you want to do is ruin this relationship by fangirling.’
I opened my mouth, fully prepared to make a witty comment. Staring straight into his eyes, I got sidetracked and my thoughts racing away from me. ‘Holy shit, Mi’ was right. His eyes are totally like the chocolate river from ‘Willy Wonka’ .. they’re just so damn brown..’ I gulped, suddenly regretting scarfing down a meal for at least 4 people in front of him. I opened my mouth, instantly regretting the word vomit that followed.
“Mybestfriendthinksyou’reasexgod.” The words came out fast, barely audible. I quickly covered my mouth, wanting to both hysterically laugh and cry at how ridiculous I just sounded.
He grabbed his chest, doubling over in laughter, his low chuckles filling the car as if coming from a surround sound. Finally regaining his composure, he grinned, “Well, if she looks anything like you, then you can tell her that isn’t too shabby herself.”
I’m sure my face was probably glowing red in the moonlight; I glanced a peek in the rear-view mirror, wincing at what I saw. My chestnut hair was tangled in what looked like one big knot, mascara running down my face, and one unidentifiable stain soiling the front of my green Aeropostale sweatshirt. ‘Jesus, boy. You are such a bad liar.’
I sighed melodramatically, ”I’m not even going to comment on my appearance right now.” Liam chuckled and rolled his eyes, turning down a side street which lead to a narrow avenue. It was a quaint little street, much quieter than the one he’d found me on, tiny shops and restaurants clustered around the neighborhood. We turned into a well lit parking lot behind a somewhat large beige building, a sign in front calling it La Rosa Hotel. He pulled into a vacant spot, and turned the keys, cutting the loud roaring sound coming from the car. I unbuckled my seatbelt, halfway out the door when I felt his soft hand pull me back inside.
“I’m more than happy to get you a room here,” he hesitated, “but I’m just curious, what’s your story?” he stole a quick glance at me, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, it’s really none of my business...”
I hesitated. He had every right to know what I’d been through, I mean he did just rescue me off the streets and was now about to buy me a room at a four star hotel. It was just so hard telling people my story; once you tell people that you’ve spent most of your life in an orphanage, they either judge you and halfway expect you to burst out into ‘Tomorrow’, or they shower you with pities and condolences. Both were feelings I hated more than anything.
