Meeting 1D In Your PJs Is Not Fun

My Other Car Is A Firebolt

Vas 'Appening?

Here's the low down: this is my first fanfic and I could really use some commentary. Well, I am hoping that you enjoy my story. Peez, leave a comment when you are done with the chapter!!

Tanks,

Boobear

Some say that dreams are a wish your heart makes.

I beg to differ.

Meeting One Direction in my PJ shirt and bed hair was NOT a wish my heart makes. Then again, it wasn't a dream. You don't believe me? Well, welcome to 2017! Yes people—teleportation IS possible. How it happened to me... Well, you know as much as I do. I didn't sign a sheet saying that I was cool with being a guinea pig to an unstable form of science.

But, it still happened; and it happened to me. Like I'm anyone! I've never met any celebrities. I don't do anything special. Nothing. I have been told I'm easy on the eyes. Long, brown hair with natural sun highlights compliments my blue-gray eyes. Good, tan skin covers my small body. A spray of light freckles wander across my small nose and cheekbones.

I'm just another pretty face.

I guess you want to know my story. Don't let me keep you waiting.

It was a warm summer night. I was reading my favorite book in my bed with one leg in the air. Taylor Swift sang about her love troubles in my ear buds. My foot drummed unconsciously against my mussed sheets.

A yawn disturbed the blissful moment and I moved my bleary gaze from the long pages to my clock. It was 2:19 AM.

Time to go to bed.

I closed the rom-com novel and turned off my night light. Crap, I forgot to take off my make-up. Oh, well. I'm pretty sure my laziness won't make the world blow up. As I drifted off to sleep, my only thought was of puppies and candy.

An English accent entered my head. "Where do you think she came from? Do you suppose she snuck in?"

"I don't think she would sneak in wearing only a...'My other car is a Firebolt' shirt." An Irish accent. Interesting dream.

"Where did you find her?"

"She was lying on the floor, bleeding. I didn't know what to do. Glass was all around her." Wait, in dreams, you can't feel pain. So, how come my legs and butt were throbbing?

Crap.

Eyes flew open and I sprung up. Five figures—boys my age by the looks of it—fell back and tripped over each other and pieces of furniture. Flying up wasn't the greatest decision, because I immediately became dizzy and my vision blurred. I stumbled forward and fell off the thing—a couch I think—I had been lying on. I landed smack on one of the boys.

We groaned in unison. Me, because he was as hard as a rock and him because I think I landed on his groin.

"Um, ow." I rolled off the man-rock and tried to stand. Mission: unsuccessful. I mostly just did a crunch and smacked my head against the carpet. "Today is just not my day." Wow, my voice sounded....British! Understandable, because sometimes when I'm around someone from the UK, my voice just changes. So, not on purpose.

While I had been concentrating on changing my voice, Man-Rock and his buddies had gotten up and rallied. I looked up and my eyes seemed to recognize the boys, but my brain wasn't recognizing their faces. They were all shirtless and looked as though they had just rolled out of bed.

I studied them, trying to remember who they were, while they stared in disbelief at me and my Harry Potter shirt. I suddenly became aware that I wasn't wearing any pants.