hurricane // bridgit mendler

[twenty-three]

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[twenty-three]

[bridgit]

"Well, well, well," I started, standing from my chair. The boys and I had a private reservation at Olive Garder to celebrate their big movie deal that they got yesterday. "The big shots are going to be in a movie!"

"You have competition, Bridge," Louis told me with a devious smirk. I flashed a smile.

"Not a chance. Anyways, on a serious note, you guys really deserve it and I hope that you don't go and give teenage girls heart attacks once the producers decide to make it 3D."

"A 3D reality movie?" Zayn questioned.

"Trust me, it will become a 3D movie." I rose my wine glass of pink lemonade (I still wasn't legally able to drink and I've decided to become a better person and follow the law). "To One Direction!"

The boys smiled and repeated me, clashing the glasses together and finally settling down to eat the breadsticks that the waiter delivered.

"So, you guys are going to have your hands full," I said. "You'll barely miss me when I leave next week."

Harry pouted and put his arm around my shoulder. "You know that's not true, Bridge."

I shrugged. "I honestly don't care that much, but just remember: don't make an epic arse of yourselves trying to act or dance in any way."

"Of course not, B." Niall winked at me and I laughed.

"That probably means that you guys will, but hey. You're out of my hair for good after this."

Suddenly, the air in the room turned tense.

"You don't seem that heartbroken about it," Harry said as lightly as he could. I began to pick at my breadstick.

"I'm not heartbroken. And I'm not all that sad either. Honestly, I love you guys, but I've been working Disney for a while now. It's like home there."

They all nodded understandingly. Harry stood. "To my wonderful, beautiful, and extremely talented girlfriend, Bridgit!"

We all clanked glasses and sat. The waiters and waitresses came in with my ravioli and whatever the boys ordered.

"We couldn't've picked another restaurant?" I asked in a hushed whisper so the workers wouldn't hear me and poison my dessert. "I personally prefer Red Lobster."

"Who doesn't?" Zayn agreed. "But, we were all feeling for pasta tonight, not seafood."

"Who said anything about their seafood? I just want their cheddar baked biscuits."

Harry laughed and gave me a small kiss on the cheek. "We'll go afterwards and order a couple of baskets of biscuits."

"Perfect."

Once we were done with dessert (italian doughnuts called zeppole), we actually drove to Red Lobster.

I encountered a couple of Diseny-loving young girls, so I took pictures, signed autographs. So did the boys, but only the teenage girls seemed interested in them.

While I ordered the cheddar baked biscuits and argued with the waiter about the validity of that order, somebody called, "Harry?" from behind us.

My natural reaction was to stay with the biscuits, even though the voice sounded as if she was familiar with my boyfriend.