Little Things

Chapter 40

It's now the date of the concert. Morgan is sporting her dark washed skinny jeans and a black tank top that dips in the front, and another piece of sheer fabric draping over so not much cleavage is revealed. She doesn't have a very large chest to show off, anyways.

As for me, I wanted to wear sweats but Morgan told me that I had to look at least a bit decent. So I threw on some jeans with rips; when I bought them in mint condition. And for a top, I'm wearing a plain white tank with a tan, throw over cardigan. My hair is pulled up into a pony tail because I am too lazy to do anything otherwise, and I only put on some simple makeup.  I look like a slum compared to Morgan, but what else is new.

It's already 5:30, and it takes well over an hour to get to the stadium. It's not in Boston in actuality, but a town outside the city. And we can only pray there won't be traffic heading out. Since we are already going to be late.

"Morgan!" I shout up the stairs.

"I'll be down in a minute!" she answers. She has been putting on makeup and doing her hair for at least an hour. Maybe more.

Just a few moments later after I grab my purse and keys, she struts down the stairs in red pumps, and matching just as bright lipstick. Her hair is also up, but slicked back and it falls into perfect curls between her shoulder blades. 

"Do I look okay?" she asks and I laugh.

"You have to be kidding right? Is that an honest question?" she nods.

"Morgan, people are going to mistake you for a Victoria's Secret model," I tell her, and she half smiles. No matter how many times I tell her, or someone else does, she will never believe how truly beauitful she is.

"Thanks Al. I just wish I could look as effortless as you can," she laughs to herself but I don't really understand her comment.

"Let's just go," I say with a demand in my voice to sense my urgency, heading out the door and locking it behind us.

Once in the car, Morgan plugs in her phone to the radio and music I don't recognize comes on.

"What is this?" I ask her, pulling onto the street.

"The music? Just the special boys we are going to be hearing tonight," she smirks and I roll my eyes. 

"Why would I want to listen to the music now when I'm just going to hear it in like, two hours?"

"So you learn the lyrics, duh. You better sing along with me, because I'm planning on partying it up tonight," she says, dancing in her seat. I stop at the red light and glance at myself in the mirror again, just making sure I don't look completely terrible. I don't plan on telling Niall I am coming, so I also don't plan on seeing him. So I guess it doesn't matter that much how I look. He's the only person I care about looking good in front of, to be honest. And yet at the same time, I am so comfortable around him that I wouldn't care if I looked like a hobo. But there's that small portion that just wants him to know that I want to please him. 

The light turns green and I punch the gas, but my cheap car stalls in doing so. After a few seconds we are driving again.

"You better not whine and complain the whole time. I want to see that smile on your face again," Morgan speaks up.

I don't answer her, and just keep my focus on the freeway.

"I told Harry we are coming, but he didn't tell anyone else. I told him not too, anyways," 

"Do you have the tickets?" I ask her, changing the subject of her informally talking about Niall and I and our current status.

"Harry said to just ask for Paul to the ticket holder and he will get us in. He reserved seats for us I think, too," she answers.