18 year old Jenna Povwitch was leaving work and hit by the One Direction Tour bus on a seemingly normal summer day on the busy streets of London.


8. Choices?

His lips pressed mine, and this was something to remember. Warm, soft, full of love. He is so cute. 'Don't fall for him you idiot!' I thought, he is a pop super star who travels the world and has thousands of teenage girls who would give their right arm to be me. It would never work. Long distant relationships would never work. Fans. Teenagers. Girls. And I was some girl who got hit by a bus. I feel him smile and pull away, his forehead still pressed into mine. "Wow" he whispered looking into my eyes with his baby greens. I smile back and say "I second that" with all my heart. "What happened to the 'Im not in love with you'" "I didnt say i was in love with you, I really said 'wow' and in realization i could be implying that you were a good kisser, not being in love with you." He wrappes his strong arms around me s the news anchor talks about how my parents died the same way. I stiffle a sob and he strokes my hair. "We could make it work" he whispers and i clue into what he is talking about. "How?" i say, trying to hide the presant egarness in my voice. "The world dosent have to know yet, and the other guys can have girlfriends and they make it work, so why cant we?" I must admit, he has a good point. Still not fully convinced i say "Why dont we just wait and see how it goes for now?" He looks into my eyes and say "I'll try my best but you are really irristable." With that we sit in sicelence and he continues to stroke my hair.

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