1Dentity (One Direction Affection: Book 1) [Watty Awards 2012]

3: Surprise, Surprise!

☆ 3: Surprise, Surprise! ★ 

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of the clicking mixed in with the waves hitting the shore brings me out of my deep sleep. When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is Mystery Boy's chest. He is still shirtless, since we used his shirt as a blanket last night. My head is resting against his chest, raising and falling with in sync with his breathing. 

Last night was wonderful. Probably one of the best nights I've had in a long time and I owed it all to this boy. How can someone that I know nothing about be exactly what I needed last night? 

Click. Click.

With a yawn, I turn my head and lock eyes with a camera. 

I shoot straight up, now fully awake. Mystery Boy felt my sudden movement; he shifts in the sand, rubbing his eyes. I don't look at him though. My eyes are straining on the man with his camera pointing directly at us. He is several feet away, laying in the sand behind an old washed-up log, watching us through his lens.

Was he seriously taking a picture of us sleeping in broad daylight? What a pervert! Has he never seen people fall asleep at the beach before? Or does he just go around taking pictures of everyone at the beach? I shudder at the thought of what he does with those pictures.

Click.

"What's wrong?" Mystery Boys voice is groggy. I turn around and see him leaning up on his elbows, looking up at me curiously.

"I think that man is taking pictures of us," I say, pointing in the direction of the man. His gaze follows my finger.

"Oh no. Oh, god!" Mystery Boy's eyes grew wide in horror. He shoots up from the sand and looks at the man with the camera, who I could see with still busy taking pictures. He quickly put on his shirt.

I look at him confused. Okay, that wasn't the reaction I was expecting. "What is it?" 

He looks back down at me sadly as he fixes his hair. "I'm sorry, but I really have to go."

Click. Click.

Before I could say anything else, he took off down the beach, running in the direction he came from earlier today. I watch in awe. Did he really just leave me? What was that about? I quickly return my gaze to the man with the camera, who was also up and running after Mystery Boy. 

What the heck was happening? 

Despite my confusion, I'm overwhelmed with a sinking feeling in the pit my stomach. He just up and left me. Why I care about that is beyond me, but I did. Even though nothing happened between us last night, I felt like I just had a one night stand. 

And the feeling is not good.


              ~*~


"Can I have a tall Double Chocolate Chip Frappuccino?" I ask the barista.

"Name?" She takes a tall cup, her sharpie ready to take down my name.

"Paige."

The barista quickly scribbles my name down and tells me how much it is. I hand her a five and put the change in the tip jar. She mumbles a thank you before starting my drink. I find an empty table in the far corner of Starbucks. 

Flashes of last night and this morning were still playing in my head. His crazy hair, us playing in the ocean, him supporting me; but the last image is the one I remember the most, him running away. Yes, it's probably stupid of me to even care that he left. I mean, why should I care? I don't even know him. But, despite logic, I do care. As much as I don't want to care about last night, I did. It just shows that last night meant more to me than it meant to him.

Which kills me.

The barista calls out my order and name. I go up to get my drink. As I'm walking back to my table, I catch the eyes of three teenage girls watching my every step. 

"Didn't your mothers ever tell you it is rude to stare?" I say coldly, but they ignore my jab.

"Oh my god." The blonde in the groups mutters.

"It's her!" The short one says looking at the blonde's phone. 

"I can't believe it," the brunette adds in dismay.

"Wait, what?" I ask looking between the three girls.

"Please, tell me that this-" the blonde shoves her phone in my face. "-Is you!"

I stare at the picture that was on display. My mouth drops as I realize that I was looking at a picture of me and Mystery Boy from this morning. My head was resting against his bare chest, his arm was draped around my waist to pull me in closer. His shirt was draped over us, covering us from the waist down. During the night, my shirt somehow managed to hike up; which meant I was pretty much flashing my bra to everyone who saw that picture.

I couldn't believe it. How did these girls manage to get a hold of this picture? Did that creep with the camera post this up?

"Where did you get this?" I finally manage to say.

"It's all over the internet and Twitter!" The short one blurts.

"So, it is her! I knew it!" The blonde boasts.

"So, is it true? Are you and Harry an item?" The brunette asks, almost accusingly.

"Harry?" I repeat. So was that Mystery Boys name? It's fitting; very British of him. Just like Harry Potter, which happens to be the only British thing I know, besides Fish N' Chips.

"See, she doesn't even know who he is!" the brunette says crossing her arms over her chest. "I told you Harry wouldn't go for a girl like her. She's too plain. I bet she doesn't even know when his birthday is. Or that he has a love for cats."

If it wasn't for the fact that I am beyond confused, I would've found what she said extremely insulting. However, I was more confused than anything. What were these girls freaking out about? And why were they talking about Harry as if they know him? 

And cat person? Dang. I had him pinned as the dog type.

"What are you guys talking about? Who is Harry?" I ask.

"Who is Harry?" The blonde repeats as if I just said the three most horrible words in the English language.

"Harry Styles!" the short one says loudly. 

Harry Styles? Was that supposed to mean something to me? "Um, okay? So?"

"From One Direction!"

That's when it hit me. That's why he looked so familiar. I've read somewhere on the internet that One Direction was supposed to be touring in Australia. That's where I've seen Harry's face before. There was a picture of the group on display all over Sydney announcing their last concert. Not to mention that at Shell Diner they constantly plays their song, What Makes You Beautiful. You hear it about ten times in one shift.

Then another thing occurs to me. The creeper from the beach, maybe he wasn't a creeper after all. He was paparazzi. He was spying on Harry. That's why when Harry left, he followed. That was why Harry left.

How did I not manage to realize this? 

"Okay, seriously?" The blonde says in disgust. "You slept with him last night and you don't even know anything about him?" 

"What a tramp," The brunette says under her breath.

"Excuse me?" I say loudly. The people in Starbucks turn and look at me, glare, and then returns to their drinks. 

"Everyone knows that Harry snuck out last night and slept with you," The blonde points out.

"We don't know that," The short one says softly, defending me. "That's why we're asking her."

"Nothing happened last night," I say shaking my head.

"Yeah right."

"You expect us to believe that?"

"There are tons of pictures."

"You're such a whore."

"I can't believe Harry would bang you."

"You guys, just let her explain."

"Why? The picture says it all."

"She's probably sleeping with him to get famous."

"How pathetic."

My head was spinning. I lost track of what the girls were saying. My heart was beating too fast and my head felt as if it were going to explode. This was too much to take in for one day. If these girls were saying all this about me, I wonder what the rest of the world was saying.  

How was I supposed to answer these questions? How was I supposed to know that he was famous? Why didn't he tell me who he was? 

Without another word, I drop my drink, push past the three girls and make my way out of Starbucks. I ignore the shouts of the girls as I leave. I had to get out.

I had to get away.

                                                              ~*~