The Lift (A One Direction Fanfiction)

Chapter Two

   "Sorry," he murmurs. "I just really don't like closed spaces. I didn't want to make a bad first impression."

   "That's okay. That wouldn't have been my first impression of you anyway." I smile goofily, hoping that would break the ice into normal conversation. Instead, Niall narrows his eyes at me.

   "How would it not have been my first impression?" he demands angrily. "I've never even met you!" He throws his arms up in the air dramatically. "I can't properly introduce myself anymore!" He throws his hood on and lies on his back, arms crossed, facing the elevator doors.

   I am stunned. He's right: I don't know him at all. Just because I've seen so many articles, videos, and pictures of and about him on the Internet doesn't mean I've gotten to know him. I feel like an asshole for just assuming I know everything about him. He must get tired of that: everyone he meets thinking they know him, everything he tells them being old news before the words leave his mouth. It must get really repetitive.

   But he didn't have to freak out on me. Like he said, we just met. I would never yell at a stranger, but that could just be me. I'm never a friend to strangers, but I'm always polite. I won't talk to them voluntarily, but I'll respond kindly when they ask me questions. Maybe he's just as uncomfortable around new people as I am, but instead of being eerily quiet, he becomes a bit of a jerk.

   Anyway, we've only been stuck in here for about twenty minutes and already I've made a mistake.

   Stupid mouth: stop making decisions without me.

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   The next hour goes by slowly, neither of us saying a word to each other. If my life were a movie, this would be one of those awkward montage scenes: Niall and I leaning against our respective walls, distracting ourselves with games on our phones, finding different lazy positions, all with the Jeopardy theme music playing in the background.

   This is ridiculous. I'm bored out of my freaking mind. One can only play Fruit Ninja for so long.

   I need to get him talking. I can't just sit here in silence until someone finds us. But how do I do it without being offensive?

   He just wanted to make a good first impression, and I denied him that opportunity. I wish we could just meet again.

   Oh. I'm a genius.

   I sit up sharply, preparing what I'm going to say in my mind. Once I plan out a few lines, I stand up and walk the yard of distance to Niall.

   "Hi, my name is Erin," I say brightly, sticking out my hand. "What's yours?"

   Niall looks at my hand as if it's a dead animal in his backyard; he knows he should do something with it; he just can't get himself to do it.

   I expected this, so I push forward.

   "I'm sorry," I apologize. "I meant my name is Erin Jeffers. So what's yours?"

   Niall looks up at me with that dead animal expression. I motion for him to stand up and shake my hand. He reluctantly gets up, using the wall to help him. He grasps my hand and shakes it limply.

   "You already know who I am..." he comments, obviously really weirded out.

   Oh God. Niall Horan just shook my hand.

   Must. Not. Pee.

   "Why would I already know that?" I ask innocently. "I've never even met you."

   "What are you talking about?" Niall keeps giving me that weird look. "We just introduced ourselves an hour ago."

   "No, that wasn't a proper introduction." I look him right in the eye. "Hi. My name is Erin Jeffers. What, may I ask, is your name?"