chp. 3

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"YOU'RE MATT ESPINOSA!" I said running up to him.

"yeah that's me." he said laughing.

"we love your vines so much." I could barely speak.

"you're hot." kaylee blurted out.

he started laughing. kaylee started fake laughing to cover it up.

"thank you?" he said.

"you're very welcome."

"so it's your birthday, Madison?" matt said.

"wait what? how did you know my name?" I said.

"it says on your button."

"oh. my birthday isn't for another month but we are celebrating early."

"well happy early birthday madison." his voice was so cute in person.

"can we get a picture?"

"of course." he said. we took a regular picture and then he asked if we wanted him to kiss our cheeks. he had soft lips (just saying).

"can you dm those to me?" he asked.

"I would love to but unfortunately we can't dm you." I said.

"what's your twitter?"

"nashduh_ and wydcash" I said.

"okay. I followed both of you."

and then our phones lit up "@TheMatthewEspinosa is now following you."

"okay I sent you all of the pictures." I said.

"umm...just wondering...why are you just standing here by yourself?" I asked.

"I'm waiting for my friends."

"oh. I wonder why there is no one else here. usually you're surrounded by girls."

"I've been wondering that too but I realized that I never tweeted my location."

"oh that makes sense."

"sometimes I like the attention but most of the time I just want to hang out with me friends."

me and kaylee exchanged looks.

"but don't get me wrong. you two seem chill. is okay if I post these pictures?" matt said. "I'm going to post them on twitter and Instagram." as soon as he posted the pictures my phone blew up. it froze and shut off.

"oops sorry." he said laughing.

we continued our conversation and got side tracked, talking about beanies and cats.

"aye there they are." matt said pointing to the people behind us. kaylee turned around.

"oh...my...gosh." she said. her jaw dropped as she slapped my arm. I turned around.

"that's....oh my....this has to be a dream." I said.

but it wasn't. it was real.

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