Country Tied || 1D au

Chapter 5

~Chapter 5~

Vigorously shaking my apron, I let out a shriek as some flour whooshed up and entered my eye.

Why couldn't I do things with finesse when I was nervous? And every time I got nervous, I baked and made a mess. My mom would actually put up signs on the kitchen door in bold, red ink that warned, "Danger Zone" or "Enter at your own risk. Lauren in kitchen." You'd think my parents would be grateful for all the goodies hey gobbled up afterwards.

It was the evening of Harry's party and it had just snuck up on me.

Okay, that was a lie. I'd been thinking about it all week---ever since Zayn called. And now that I had his cell number, I was always tempted to text him random stuff because it was such a thrill to see his name pop up on my screen. He liked putting smiley faces in his text messages, every time he used one, I felt like I had butterflies in my stomach. Scratch that. I felt like I had a whole zoo having a stampede in my stomach. And it was enough to make me nauseous.

Our last text conversation took place right before I entered the kitchen and decided to make the chocolate chip cookies my dad always wanted for dessert.

MESSAGE FROM ZAYN:

So, are you going for the librarian look again for the party? J

MESSAGE FROM LAUREN:

You wish. It probably turns you on.

MESSAGE FORM ZAYN:

Now you've put THAT idea in my head. J

MESSAGE FROM LAUREN:

I was talking generically, Zayn. Don't get excited.

MESSAGE FROM LAUREN:

Can't help it. You started it. J See you later!

I knew I shouldn't have said that. It was too flirty, especially for me. But every time we texted each other, I knew his mind was on me and not on his high school chickadee. Ugh. Plus, I was being sexist now. A disgrace to my gender. This was probably what feminists meant when they said that patriarchy clearly pit women against each other so that men would always hold the power. But tell that to my overly competitive and desperate heart. There was no room for sisterhood here. This was war.

"Lauren, don't you have a party tonight?" It was my mother. In her little Jackie O-cut dress and wavy bob, you'd think she were lobbying to be cast in the role if they were to film yet another movie on the late fashion icon. AND this was what she called her weekend getup. Desperate to shed her weekday power suits, Mom always went for a sweet, feminine dress to offset her image as Ms. Tough Corporate Executive.

"Yes, Mum," I sighed. "I just wanted to get a head start on this dough so Dad won't complain that he doesn't have dessert tomorrow."

"Hun, I already bought us some oatmeal cookies from the bakery in my building."

"I wrapped my rolled up cookie dough in Saran wrap, shoved it into the freezer, and glared at her. "Mum, you've got to stop buying from that bakery. You're insulting me!"

She giggled and gave me a gentle shove out of the kitchen. "I want to support them. Whenever I'm hungry, they actually deliver fresh bread to my office. You're going to be late. Hurry and get dressed!"

Dusting sugar and flour off my cheek, I muttered to myself, "Sheesh. There was never this much pressure to get ready to a party before."

~~~

"We should have just stayed home," I kept muttering through clenched teeth as I drove to Zayn's house.

Camille was obviously not listening to me as she bopped her head to Katy Perry singing about how California Girls could melt popsicles. But even in my tightest jeans and sheer lime green spaghetti strapped top layer over a nude bandeau, I was definitely no chick from the OC. Just a London girl at the onset of a humid summer evening.

Camille convinced me to allow her to use a curling iron---which could easily double as a deadly weapon---to add waves to my hair. Now my hair fell in wispy layers a few inches below my collarbone.

Camille, who looked very cute in her short, baby pink flapper dress and heels, proudly announced that I finally looked like I actually worked with her at the magazine. Whatever that meant. I refused to put on the four-inch pumps she brought for me to try and compromised by pulling on some wedges.

"We're here!" Camille jumped out of the car as I killed the engine.

I took a deep breath, grabbed my bag, and hauled myself into the street.

Rows of cars snaking up to the driveway lined Zayn's street. If nothing else intimidated me, that did. And the loud music that was rudely blaring from the house. I didn't know how anyone could be drawn to chaos like that.

But my BFF obviously was. She was already dancing out there for all the neighbours to see. I grabbed her hand and yelled, "Will you quit it? I'm ditching you if you embarrass me!"

She giggled, threw her arm around my shoulder and squeezed. "Silly! Let's go inside!"

<a/n>

ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAYYYYY!!! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter ☺️