The Lift (A One Direction Fanfiction)

Chapter Five

   "Mom!" I shout as I grab my phone and house keys. "Rebecca's here!"

   She runs out of her room and comes over to hug me.

   "Keep your phone with you at all times and text me on the hour," she warns. "Do not go out of Mrs. Gottlieb's sight until you're in the stadium. Do not take any drugs or alcohol from strangers. Or anyone, for that matter. Do not---"

   "Okay I get it!" I cut her off. "I'll be fine, mom."

   She tears up a bit and hugs me tighter.

   "I'm sorry, sweetie," she whispers. "I just don't want to get scared again."

   "You won't," I reassure her. "I will be back around 1. I love you."

   I grab my jacket and head out the door.

   I take the stairs, as I've been doing since my incident. Rebecca is waiting in the lobby, chatting with Charles. Of course he's awake for her; he has this creepily obvious crush on her, which is really weird considering she's seventeen and he's sixty-three. But she always gets him to do stuff for us, so I'm not complaining.

   "Ready to go?" I ask her, adjusting my purple jacket.

   "I'm here, aren't I?" she retorts sassily. "And by the way I love your outfit so much! I was thinking about wearing a T-shirt but I thought it was too cold for one so I'm wearing jacket but under it I have a long sleeve with Zayn's signature on it."

   Although I find that a bit creepy, considering the fact that she did not buy that shirt but made it out of puffy paint, (is that identity fraud?) I still like her outfit a lot.

   As she correctly pointed out, I am wearing a T-shirt. It's a v-neck and it's cerulean with a big "ISRAEL" on the front. Yes, I know Israel has nothing to do with One Direction, but I look really freaking good in this shirt so I wear it on special occasions. I only own one jacket, so I'm wearing my purple one, and then jeans and pink polka dotted Converse.

   I guess it's kind of obvious I don't have an eye for style.

   Just an eye for Styles.

   I promise that won't happen again.

   Actually, I take that back.

   "Okay so my mom's going to drive us to Lizzie's house now," Rebecca says to me as we walk outside into the chilly air and wave goodbye to a heartbroken Charles. "I'll get the tickets, and then we're on our way to see our lovely boys! You don't even understand how excited I've been since Lizzie won those tickets. I mean..."

   She keeps talking until we reach Lizzie's house, only pausing to jump out of the car to awkwardly retrieve the tickets from Lizzie's mom, her curly brown hair making a tail behind her. Then she hops back into the car, Mrs. Gottlieb hits the gas, and Rebecca continues jabbering away.

   After riding in the car for about fifteen minutes, Rebecca suddenly pulls an envelope from her pocket.

   "I just realized I haven't seen the tickets yet," she points out, surprised. "I have no idea what they look like or what seats we're in."

   "Let's see them, then!" I exclaim. Whenever I go to a musical or a movie I always keep the ticket and pin it to a bulletin board above my bed. These will be my first concert tickets and I want to know what they look like.

   Rebecca rips open the envelope and turns it upside-down. Two pieces of paper flutter to the car seat. We each grab one and read it:

   ONE DIRECTION 11/9/12 SECTION 2 ROW 1 SEAT 7