3. First Sight
What the heck, I'm 18 ( as of yesterday ) might as well live once in a while right?
"If we get in trouble, just as a heads up, I will leave you to explain how we got in the restricted area". I lean my head on my hands as Lisa frowns and manoeuvres her clumsy way about the car park.
"Gotcha." She roughly parks in a space by an alleyway, close to what looks like a stage door of the hall. "Maybe we'll bump into one direction?" She elbows me and I laugh, turning to undo my seatbelt.
"How long do we have before it starts?"
"About 10 minutes, there's no rush." Good.
"I'm going to have a quick cig then, your crazy driving has me all worked up." I joke, rummaging in the pockets of my leather jacket for my pack.
"Oh no you don't! Not in my car!" Lisa practically throws me out the car, into the freezing cold.
"It isn't even your car." I mutter under my breath. Continuing to search for my lighter, I hear Lisa turn on the radio in the car. Leaning against the car I pull out a cigarette and cup my hands against the icily brittle wind that seems out of place in summer. As I flick at my lighter I hear footsteps and voices over the blaring of Lisa's radio. Shit. I duck behind a large van as the stage door opens and two boys come out. No way.
I practically drop my cigarette to the floor as my mouth falls open. Niall Horan and Zayn Malik. I stifle a giggle as I turn my head to see Lisa totally unaware, nodding her head to a song. For some reason I don't want them to see me. Maybe they'll think I followed them or something weird like that.
They go inside their bus, but before I can even take anther drag they're back out again. With a pack themselves! I didn't know Niall smoked! Something we have in common I guess, I think with a wry smile. They're looking around furtively, trying to see if anyone is watching them. I inhale too sharply on my half burned cigarette, gasping from the cold. I start to cough quietly, crouching back into the shadows of the alley. Zayn appears unfazed, but Niall looks sharply over in my direction. I lean back, hoping he won't see me. I hold my breath.
Then he looks away. But he's smiling, in the sort of way which makes you think he knows a secret that he won't share with anyone. It infectious, and I find myself smiling to myself. Oh wait. He must have know someone was here! He would have seen the glowing end of my cigarette in the shadows. That's embarrassing.