Untamed [Niall Horan]

Chapter Two

"Have a good day at school, okay? Good luck on your history test!" I said, and then cringed; I was all too aware of how mom-ish I had become.

            She cringed, too, and muttered a weak goodbye before the door shut behind her and she bound to school. Annabelle was my little angel, the one thing I'd do anything for; and clearly, I've proved it. At an early age I realized that I had to take care of my young and confused sister because my father wasn't reliable enough — I don't even know how he raised me for the first thirteen years before it got really bad.

            I grabbed my uniform and shoved it in my purse before walking out of the apartment, locking the door, and starting my day. I walked down the hall and towards the elevator and, glancing at my phone, I checked my emails and responded to texts. The bell dinged, and I started towards the garage, hopped in my car, and was off to work.

            My boss, Joe, was manning the blender when I walked in, and I took the opportunity of an unknown arrival to slip into the bathroom to change. I had to wear an deep plum barista apron over a black fitted shirt and a visor with the café logo on the top. When I was done, I walked to the counter part of the café and mumbled my daily "hello" to Joe.

            "What, are you hung over?" He questioned, and then smirked. "Or were you stuck at the bar late last night?"

            I groaned, "I worked late and barely got any sleep."

            "Well wake up or you're fired."

            I laughed. Joe wouldn't harm a fly, let alone my temporary career. He was a nice guy who I got along with great, which was good considering he was the manager and he never got on my back if I was late a few minutes or had to take too long of a break to pick Annabelle up from school if she was feeling sick. "Will do."

            I cleaned a few tables and made a few drinks before it was pretty deserted in the café, and all there was to do involved cleaning out the blenders and washing the windows. It was only Joe and I until around three, when Katie comes in to replace me today. My shift at the bar started at seven, so I had a few hours to myself, and I found myself daydreaming of more sleep.

            "Hello?" I heard a masculine voice ask, and I looked up to see a customer at the counter. I quickly apologized and asked for his order, and he answered with a "Black coffee."

            Joe made the drink, and I examined the customer. He was fairly tall with a hoodie on and jeans, and I momentarily wondered if he was insane. A hoodie and jeans in May in California? It was like a death wish for burning alive. As I gave him a once-over, I caught his gaze, and he smirked, noticing that I was checking him out. I smiled, embarrassed, and inwardly laughed.

            "What's your name?" He asked me suddenly, and I was exposed to his British accent.

            "Ariana," I said, and gave him a stronger smile than my previously weak one. "And yours?"

            He held his hand out, and the movement made his hood slide off his head a little, and I was suddenly aware of his gorgeous curly hair and subject to his bright white grin. "Harry."

            I knew that name, and I knew that face — from where, I have no idea, so I asked: "Have we met before?"

            "I can't say that we have," He offered, with a look on his face that told me he was amused. I was just about to insist that we had met before, or something, because of how familiar he looked, but Joe called out his order at the other end of the counter, and Harry waved and went to go grab it. I watched him walk over to a two person table and sit down alone, right beside the window to look out of it.