Taylor POV
Its been two weeks since my date ish thing with Jake.
Weve talked a lot.
Like, a lot a lot.
Over coffee, during break, on the phone at 2 AM…
AND Ive pretty much gotten over Harry!
Im so proud.
I should throw myself a party.
We can talk normally now without things getting awkward which I’m SUPER happy about! Hes actually really nice and sweet and completely the opposite of what he had been like in New York.
The show was also coming together quite nicely! The boys and I had been put in vigorous dance lessons, and I hate to admit it but we really haven’t improved much. Lucy seemed to notice, and we don’t have TOO much choreography.
Basically a lot of jumping up and down, moving hands, and running back and forth across the stage.
I was just arriving home after a particularly hard day and was really in the mood for homemade cookies.
Chocolate chip to be exact.
I walked into the living room, finding all of them strewn across the couches watching Toddlers and Tiaras.
idiots.
“IM HOME! Who wants to make cookies?” I asked, excitedly and waving my arms all over the place.
“No.”
“I’ll eat them…”
“How dare you.”
“Sorry hun, Katie’s about to win and I cant miss it!”
And finally, “I will! I cant stand this show!” Shocked faces and protests came from all the other boys as Harry stood up and walked towards me.
“Yay!” I clapped my hands together and ran to the kitchen, pulling Harry by the arm.
I looked up how to make chocolate chip cookies on my iphone and began my hunt for the ingredients. “Harry, you search for the flour and vanilla extract and I’ll find everything else!”
This house had been chock full of stuff when we arrived and usually it had everything we ever need but for some reason it had NO chocolate chips.
That should be illegal.
I pulled my head back out of the cupboard and ran over to where Harry was with the vanilla extract and flour, leaning against the counter. “THERES NO CHOCOLATE CHIPS!” Harry looked up, with an overly surprised face.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
He rolled his eyes and grabbed his coat, “bastards…”
“Wait-where are you going?” I ran to catch up and looked up at him.
“To the market of course! You comin?” He turned the knob of the door and stepped out onto the porch.
I ran to grab my purse off the table and caught up with him in the car.
I jumped into the front seat and turned up the radio as he turned the corner, heading to the local supermarket.
We sat in silence as we listened to the radio, sometimes tapping along to a song or something like that.
Occasionally I would catch him looking at me through the mirror but he would quickly look away. It had been about 5 minutes when I heard the familiar beginning of a song.
