The Super Sleepover

Chapter 15!

❤️Actions speak louder than words:Unknown❤️
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To say I was 'excited' would be putting it very, very lightly.

I mean, who wouldn't be, right? A guy was practically calling you and offering you a ticket to one of the most amazing concerts ever. This still feels like one long, amazing, torturous dream...

I started getting dressed at around one-making sure I had everything-with my favourite playlist barging from the bluetooth speaker in my room. The surreality of the situation hit me like a huge iceberg, and I actually and completely realised how lucky I was.

The ravishing tacos mom had prepared were an utter waste. Due to my jumpy nature, it was physically and mentally impossible for me to just sit down for more than a minute at one place and eat something. I kept dancing, giggling, screaming, dancing, screaming more and shouting a lot more up until I realised that if I didn't stop now, I'd develop a serious case of some unknown and weird throat disease. The sun was perched up in the sky mightily, horizontal rays of light peeking vehemently through the window.

It seemed to me that every minute passing was an equivalent of an hour. The slow and monotonous ticking of the clock pissed me off, making me bite my nails with the fear of being late. Jeez, I was acting worse than a teenage girl admitting to her mother that she is pregnant. Time passed painfully slowly and finally, the clock struck three.

True to his words, Sam was standing outside my door at the exact time. He knocked thrice and I zoomed past my mother to open the door, skidding on the carpet about twice and almost landing ungracefully on my ass.

I opened the door and his blue eyes seemed almost crystalline, his million dollar smile warming my chest. He was dressed in a beige shirt and black jeans, which accentuated his features wonderfully. I took a moment to admire his soft, wavy, blond locks, accompanied by glowing streaks of gold. He was, undoubtedly, extremely good-looking.

"You look pretty," he complimented me, although I was only wearing my plain old, 1D shirt. It's really amazing to know that such sweet and chivalrous guys still exist, something different from the jerks I'm usually around with.

"You look great too," I shot back and hoped silently that he hadn't noticed me staring at him like a creepy dude.

"Shall we leave?" He asked, flashing me a lopsided grin. I somehow nodded through my smile, grabbing my phone and poster.

We entered his white Toyota, a car which was comfortable, yet mildly appealing. Sam held open the door for me and I sat in hastily, buckling my seatbelt in a surprising time of two point five seconds. It's fascinating to see the speed humans can work at when they've got to get somewhere.

Sam chuckled and started the car with a soft purr of the engine, and soon enough, we were on the road. An unrecognisable track of Arctic Monkeys was blaring through the radio and I turned the volume up a little bit, bobbing my head along with the beats.

"So who's your favourite?" Sam asked me as we passed an intersection.

"Harry Styles," I said with a smile. He was the best. He was...there literally weren't enough words to describe how unprecedented he was.

Sam made a disgusting face and I scowled at him playfully. Just because I thought he was so good did not mean that I expect every person I come across to like him. People have their own opinions and some of the people I know practically hate One Direction. No offence guys but you'll are missing out on a lot.

"Hey! Say a word about them and I'll chop your intestines and feed them to a shark!" I threaten. Think whatever the hell you want to think about them but just refrain from sharing your fantastic opinion with me if it's not good.