Do You Remember Me?

The after shock

By the time we got back it was dark outside. I was exhausted, but too shocked to sleep.

Why me? I thought to myself. I'm nothing special, not very attractive, or funny, or smart, or outgoing. I think I've proved my point.

One direction, out of the billions of girls on this planet, they choose to be interested in me?

I was kidding myself. they probably do this to every girl they see that stands out in a crowd. Or do they?

Excitement keeping me awake, I decided too wash up. As I stripped off my denim shorts leg by leg and tossed them to the corner, starting my laundry pile for the next week, a small piece of paper dropped out.

HOW COULD I FORGET! The Harry Styles had given me a phone number that may possibly lead to more conversations with these amazing human beings!

I rapped my bathrobe around my body, just so that I wasn't walking around in a thong, and grabbed my iPhone to dial the number.

Jumping(almost popping) onto my rented water bed, I let the phone ring. Three, four, five, and I felt like dying when I heard that absurd beep and the voice message began.

But it wasn't the normal recorded voice lady, or some strangers inbox, I recognized the voice.

"Pardon I can't get to my 'cellular device'" he said in an attempted American voice, but his british accent was still audible, " I'll call you back as soon as I can, bye!"

The excitement welled up inside of me. Not only had a boy given me a phone number, but that boy was HARRY STYLES and the number was REAL.

What sucked was when I couldn't hold in the squeal and the recording just happened to catch it.

Then the call ended automatically.

Should I call back and apologize for the fan girl moment? I thought too myself.

Embarrassing much? After contemplating the idea for about 60 seconds, I decided to call again, but only once.

As I picked up my phone I had a mini heart attack and maybe peed a little when it vibrated in my hand and the caller ID showed the exact same number as the one scribbles on the crumpled piece of paper next to me.

Sliding the green bar to the right I put the device to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked in a shakily nervous/excited voice. " 'Ello, may I ask who this is and why you have my phone number?" the caller responded in that undeniable British accent that I hear almost every day, you know from social media and stuff.....

" Um," I spoke, surprisingly," you sort of gave it to me," I trailed off not knowing how to end the sentence.

" I have no idea wh- ohhhhhhh your that red-head from the coffee shop?"

He said which pretty much crushed me.

I'm not the only one... I thought to myself.

" Actually no I'm not. I'm-"

He interrupted me, "oh pardon me, you must be that cute blonde

from the airport?." he said decidedly.

" Wrong again." I said stifling a sob, realizing how unspecial I really was to him.

"This is the brunette from the meet and greet today," I said with a small, pathetic spark of hope.

"Oh, the one that was wearing the 'up all night' tank-top?" He said failing once again.

" You know, just because your absolutely beautiful and perfect in every way doesn't mean you can just go around giving 50 girls in each country your phone number." I retaliated, getting frustrated subconsciously.

"It kind of does." he stated, and I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastically or not.

Wow Harry Styles, that's

a good way to ruin a fans day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N

Sorry for the confusing chapter, I need you guys to speak up with some input :) I'll try and do better next time! oh and vote on who you want the dad to be!

(Liam vs. Harry)

Love y'all

~ Bridget <3