Rocks (Louis Tomlinson)

Twenty-Eight.

Twenty-Eight.

“How about clowns?” Louis asks, holding up a rainbow wig.

I scrunch my nose and shake my head. Louis shrugs and puts the wig back on the rack in the Halloween store.

Tonight it Collin’s party, and Louis and I completely forgot to get our costumes, so here we are, three hours before party time trying to find a compatible costume.

“Assassins?” I ask, pointing to a picture of a couple wearing tight black suits on the wall.

Louis’s eyes widen. “How the hell am I supposed to squeeze into that? Just looking at it is painful…” Louis shivers.

I sigh and look around the almost empty store and walk to a corner where a few more couple pictures are hung up. I squint my eyes at the small pictures, and then point to one just above my head.

“How about this one?”

Louis looks forward at the picture, and then nods. I smile and wave over a worker who is scanning items about a meter away. She smiles and walks over to us.

“Which one?” She asks, putting the scanner back in her worker belt.

“That one” I point to the picture and she nods, scribbling down the costume number and rushing off to the back room to grab our costumes.

“You’re gonna look so sexy in that” Louis pulls me closer. “But if anyone else glances at you for more than three seconds, they’re dead.”

***

I finish the last bits of makeup in the vanity, and then tease my hair a bit to give it more volume. Louis comes up behind me in the mirror and wraps his hands around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder.

“Ready?” He asks.

I nod and grab my phone off the vanity, then start out the door with Louis following close behind. We walk down the stairs to see my parents wiping away tears with tissues, grasping a Polaroid camera in their hands.

I groan. “We aren’t going to prom guys.”

Mom blows her nose in the tissue and dad pats her back, wiping away a tear himself. Dad signals for us to pose together, and Louis laughs before tugging me into his arms and kissing my cheek. I smile towards the camera and Louis does the same as my dad takes the picture of us on the stairs, the newly printed picture sliding out from the Polaroid and drifting in the air before landing on the hardwood floor. Louis releases me from his grip and I walk towards the picture, bending down slightly to take it.

“The angel and the devil” Louis says from behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist once again.

***

“I’m pretty sure it’s a right here” I say, peering down at my phone GPS that is changing directions every minute.