A Twist in My Story.(A Louis Tomlinson fanfiction)

Chapter 7.

I'm only home long enough to change into shorts and a t-shirt before the doorbell rings.

Damn, he's like a full hour early. An HOUR.

I run downstairs, putting my hair in a pony tail at the same time.

I open the door to the sight of Louis, with an actual backpack; which I did not expect.

"You actually brought stuff." Is the first thing I say.

"Nice to see you too." as he pushes past me in to my house.

"Sure. You can come in." I say sarcastically as I sigh and go with him to the kitchen.

"We'll it's not like you can turn me away we have to get this project done." He snorts; I don't say anything. The amount of awkwardness the silence brings is indescribable. He just kinda leans against the counter and I lean against the door way.

After about five minutes of complete and utter silence, he finally clears his throat,

"So umm..shall we get to work?" he says cautiously. Almost..nervously?

"Sure." I grab my backpack from its living spot on the floor and go to sit across from him. Him on one side of the "island" and me on the other.

More silence.

At the exact same time we both start to speak-

"Why is-" he starts.

"I'll get-" I start as well.

"You go." He says.

"I'll get my notes."

He snorts, "You took notes? We have to interview each other. No notes required."

"I like to know exactly what to do. You go." I ignore his comment.

"I was gonna ask why this is so awkward. I mean..we've had conversations before."

Now it's my turn to snort, "If your definition of conversation is one of us being rude to the other or two words exchanged, then yeah. We've definitely had 'conversations'." I add quotations around conversations.

"Rude?" he raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, rude. Usually it's you being rude to me." I state.

"Really?" he asks.

"Yes! Really!" I try not to raise my voice.

"Sorry." he shrugs.

"Whatever."

"But hey, it's not like you for deserve it. You can be a bitch yourself." He says and I just stare at him.

"Damn, learn to take a joke. Have a little fun." He smirks and pokes my shoulder.

"Are you serious?" I ask him.

"Yeah? Should I not be?"

"There was no hint in your voice or smile or anything that indicated that it was a joke."

"Sorry?"

"Stop. Can we just work?" I plead and he nods in reply.

We work for awhile and get a good page-front and back- of my interview from him done. Now it's my turn to interview him.

"Okay..so.."

"Ask me if I have any disabilities." He urges.

"what?"

"Just do it." He presses.

"Okay.." I start, confused. "Do you have any dissabilites?"

"Yes. I have dyslexia."