Don't Forget Me (George Shelley Fan Fiction)

Now What?

By 11pm myself and Em were making our way back to where Em’s dad had said he would pick us up from. The boys had left the stage by 10:40 but the 10 minute walk to the meeting place had been made longer by Em’s insistence that I told her exactly what had happened in full detail so she could ‘imagine the spectacular meeting herself’.

Just as I’d finished telling the story I remembered George’s number that was sat deep inside my jeans pocket. A sudden panic filled my body when I realised it was not in any of my pockets. Em had just stopped beside me and was starting to ask what was wrong before I realised it was in fact hiding in my phone case inside my bag.

By the time I’d found my phone and made a failed attempt at turning it on before realising it was completely flat Em was very confused and was now waving her hand in front of my face to get my attention.

I sighed at my dead phone then told Em I hadn’t texted him yet but now I couldn’t. Neither of us had become aware of the fact that we’d stopped in the middle of the pavement until her dad pulled up beside us.

“I thought the concert finished at 10:40, how could it possibly take you 25 minutes to get out of the theatre and-”

“Dad, we had a lot of important things to discuss” Em said through the open car window cutting her dad off.

Cars whizzed past the parked car and we climbed into the backseats shivering from the cold December air.

Em leaned forward in between the driver’s seat and the passenger seat and pushed a button on the cars console, cold air started to blow towards us but quickly warmed up and by the time Em’s dad had started up the engine again we were no longer shivering.

5 minutes into the drive home her dad broke the strangely comforting silence.

“Now April are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay the night at our house, myself and Helen wouldn’t mind one bit”.

“Uhm” I murmured before casting a glance at Em who was shaking her head as if horrified her father had even asked such a question.

“Dad my pyjamas are at April’s, as are hers, it’s all planned, Mr Young is probably already blowing up the air bed for me”.

Em looked back at me and rolled her eyes, she was often quite rude to her parents but they knew deep down how much she loved them.

“I’m sure Daniel won’t mind not having to listen to two teenage girls scream their way through the night about how ‘hot the boys looked’” Em’s dad Peter replied, mimicking a young girls voice.