Louis, you don't have to read this part if you don't want to. You already know what happened.
But if you skip this, you won't know what was going on in my head when I met you. So you choose.
Here it goes.
Niall and Harry came running into the room. Niall screamed when he saw me. He sure had a loud voice. Loud, but nice.
Don't tell me you're getting jealous. Wait, why should you? You already have a girlfriend. I'm just another fan.
Forget that I said that.
So there I was, wondering if I was really that ugly, when Harry yelled at me.
"Who are you?"
You should know that my brain doesn't function well under pressure. I even forgot my own name. "Um, I'm..."
And then the Great Camille makes her grand entrance.
"Hey, Anna, what-...oh."
Harry asked her the same question he had asked me earlier, but in a much nicer tone. Flirty, even.
It was obvious that he liked her but hated me. How cliché.
If flirting were a sport, Camille Sanders would be the world champion. And still, she overdid herself this time with Harry.
Niall asked me what my name was. Now that everything had calmed down, sort of, I could relax.
Niall let me hug him. You, however, didn't say anything. Weird, I thought, because you seemed talkative.
He told me that if I wanted to, he would take a picture with me. Even get the other boys to autograph it.
Ahhhh. Such a kind man. Maybe I should've fallen in love with Niall instead.
But you did something that made me immediately decide that you were my favorite. Something that six months later, made me write this story for you.
You gave me a half-eaten granola bar.