Paper Airplane

14

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

                If awkwardness was a tangible thing, Harry and I would be suffocating in the back of this SUV.  And all I could think the entire time was that although I really didn’t want to speak to him, I wished he’d at least try to start a conversation.  He wasn’t even giving me the chance to ignore him.  He just wasn’t saying anything at all.  And it annoyed me.

                Eventually it began to feel like a challenge to me, and I refused to give in and be the first to say something.  I had to do it back up in Brady’s condo, so I wasn’t about to do it again.  Plus, then it’d seem like I was making an effort, and of course I wouldn’t want to give off that impression.

                I’d say that traffic was pretty bad at this time of day, but honestly, in LA, it’s always this bad.  It really wasn’t any different than any other time of the day.  And as much as I usually hated it, I was actually grateful for it; instead of people watching, I was car watching.  The traffic served as my only distraction, and I’d take what I could get.

                Every so often I’d hear Harry let out a soft sigh, and it began to irritate me because he was doing it regularly, every several minutes.  It was hard to keep myself distracted from him when he continued to remind me of his presence.  If he wasn’t going to speak, he shouldn’t make any noises at all.

                Finally, after the longest fifteen-minute ride I’d ever been on, we parked alongside a curb outside what appeared to be a karaoke bar.  I raised a brow as I gazed past Harry at the lit up microphone in the place’s window, unable to picture any member of One Direction hanging out in a place like this. 

                Harry looked over at me for a moment and pursed his lips; I waited for him to say anything, sure that this would be my chance to purposely ignore him.  But then he turned away and opened his door, climbing out onto the sidewalk.  With a sigh, I unbuckled myself and scooted across the leather seats to follow him.

                We walked in side by side – in silence of course – and when the door didn’t close immediately behind us, I turned to see that the driver of the SUV was going to be joining us, and I assumed it was for security reasons.  Instead of being annoyed that we even needed extra security, I was slightly glad he was there. 

                It was dark and dingy inside, and after a few moments of scanning the place, I decided it looked like it belonged back at home, not in Los Angeles, California.  I could easily picture most of my high school hanging out here on weekends, playing pool or the arcade games in the far back corner or sneaking in some alcohol in Mountain Dew bottles and trying their hand at some karaoke, fearless and careless when frankly they should be both. 

                I wrinkled my nose as Harry led the way, smelling something fowl that I couldn’t place.  My pace quickened so that I could walk closer to the celebrity I was following, hoping to catch drift of him – he may be a jerk, but at least he smells nice – without him necessarily noticing.  Plus I couldn’t see any of the other band members, and although the SUV driver was following us, I worried Harry would just leave me behind if I took too long.

                I was startled when out of nowhere, a loud, slightly deep voice bellowed, “Hey, Harry!”  If Mr. Styles felt me jump, he didn’t indicate so.

                “Hello, boys,” Harry said, so instead of looking like I was hiding behind him, I put space between us and stood a bit to the side, telling myself a smile would probably look better than a scowl but knowing it would be next to impossible to force one.