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Paths - Chapter 3

"That's the American girl who assaulted me yesterday!" Great. He told them I assaulted him. Picture of Taylor's Outfit.
- Taylor -

I sat in class, listening to Mrs. Robinson who go on and on about the importance of semicolons when she check her watch.

"Oh gracious, it looks as if we are out of time. We will continue this discussion on Monday! Have a lovely weekend ladies!" She dismissed us. As I gathered my books she came to my desk, "I haven't had the chance of meeting our new student!"

"Taylor Harris," I introduce myself, holding out a hand. She takes it daintily.

"Pleasure to meet you," She tells me, "I'm expecting great work out of you Miss Harris."

"I'm expecting to give it to you, Mrs. Robinson." I return with a smile before leaving the classroom. Libby was waiting for me outside, falling in step beside me.

"Took you ages," she rolled her eyes. "We only have two hours to get ready!"

"Two hours should be plenty, shouldn't it?" I ask her with a lighthearted laugh, but after seeing her serious face, I stopped.

"Sweetheart, I'm giving you a makeover. This little farm girls going to turn into a very hot woman," Libby says, making me laugh.

Back at the room, Libby sat me down in a chair, smearing me in makeup, pulling my hair into a braid, and tossing clothes in my hands forcing me to give her a fashion show before she was satisfied.

"Lovely," she proclaimed. I turned to see my reflection in the mirror. Wearing a faded purple tank top with some high waisted white shorts, I touched my braid that fell past my right shoulder.

"Thank you, Libby," I hug her. "Now you need to get ready."

"Don't worry, I'm faster than the people who run the Olympics," she smiles, shoving me out of the room for her to change. Within five minutes, she comes out looking completely fabulous in a white blouse with a light pink skirt and some wedges, with her hair in messy curls.

"Remind me to never doubt you again," I joke with her down the hallway. Twenty minutes later, we were cutting in front of the long line of excited fans. "Is it bad that I feel like I'm not being fair to them," I whisper to her.

"It's VIP. Very Important Person. You are a very important person. Get used to it," she laughed carefree. Letting us stand in the very front, gated off to any other viewers, we awaited for the concert to begin.

While in the middle of a story about why she hates dogs, Libby was cut off by the angelic voices of four incredibly talented boys, who made the whole stadium cheer. One by one they came out. When Elliot entered, I lowered my head, because even though I was in the audience, he would still be able to see my face due to the fact I was only five feet away from him.

I was only here on invite, which mean I knew none of their songs. But, everyone else did. They did all the things boy bands were expected to do, flirt with the crowd, sing nicely, and look attractive by giving million dollar smiles. Approximately halfway through the third song, Elliot came to the staging right in front of me, bending down to accept any hands that were reaching for him. I quickly duck my head, knowing if he looked at me, he'd realize who it was. I survived without being recognized, but there were many close calls. It would be better for both of us if he didn't know.

After the concert, Libby danced her way out of the gated area, singing the last song they played.

"What a great concert!" She smiled at me. "Let's go see the band!"

"Libby, you're crazy. We can't go do that," I roll my eyes at her outrageous thought.

"Of course we can." She tapped the shoulder of a bodyguard nearby. "Hello, can we go see the band." She held up her VIP pass before whispering something in his ear. His facial expression changed, as if he realized something before smiling and nodding at her,

"This way, please."

"Libby!" I quickly grab her arm, "I can't go see them," I hiss in her ear. If we met personally, it would be worse.

"Of course we can! Let's go have some fun," She exclaimed, pulling me along backstage.

"What did you tell him," I asked her.

"My name," she said nonchalantly.

"What about your name-"

"Right here, ladies." The bodyguard instructed us to a room. Two of the boys were sitting on the couch, and one looked up as we entered.

"Henry!" He called, "Your girlfriend's here!"

"Shut up!" A voice comes from the back room, with its door open and light on.

"Girlfriend?" I mumble to her.

"No," she mumbles back. The boy that called back appears from the mysterious room wearing different pants and shirt than he was in the performance. He was of decent height with straight black hair that fell in front of his eyes, definitely a looker.

"Libbs!" His face turns to her in surprise. They hug while he lifts her off the ground.

"Put me down, Henry," she demands with a laugh.

"You two know each other?" I ask.

"Of course we do," Henry grins at me. "We were childhood mates."

"Our mothers were best friends," Libby explains.

"They would make us do these little concerts where I would sing and she would dance," he reminisces. "Wait, how do you know an American, Libbs?"

"She's my new roommate, for school. She got here on a scholarship," Libby told him. "Her name is Taylor."

"Well Taylor, welcome. I'm Henry, that's Timothy," he pointed to the boy on the couch that called to him in the beginning, a shorter boy with light brown curly hair, who gave me a little wave, "And that's Charlie," a boy who was hidden behind a newspaper, probably the best-looking of all of them so far, tall with sandy blonde hair and bright ocean blue eyes. Who smiled at me sincerely.

"Wait," Timothy realized a problem. "Where's Elliot. ELLIOT!"

"What?!" Elliot came out of the back room, combing his hair. When our eyes lock, his face turns to pure terror. "That's her!" He pointed at me.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"What are you talking about, Lee?" Charlie asked in annoyance.

"That's the American girl who assaulted me yesterday!" Great. He told them I assaulted him.

"You mean she's the one that split the coffee on you?" Timothy tried to understand.

"Yes!" He frantically told them.

"You met Elliot and didn't tell me about it?" Libby questions me.

"Didn't think it was that important," I shrugged. There was a long pause before Henry turned to me holding up his hand,

"High-five." So I did.

"I like her," Timothy decided.

"Me too," Charlie went back to his newspaper.

"Are you serious?" Elliot's face in disbelief.

"Does she look like she's holding any deadly weapons?" Charlie looked at him. When he shook his head, Charlie continued, "Then calm down." He flipped the newspaper up. Elliot growled before retreating to the back room again.

"I got an idea," Henry pitched in. "Let's go out for some pizza together. Maybe we could watch a film at the flat afterwards."

"What a great idea," Timothy agreed. "They must join us."

"We'd love too," Libby accepted.

"Hey, Elliot," Henry yelled over his shoulder.

"What?" He pokes his head out the door.

"The girls are joining us this evening, so try to be a gentleman," Henry requested.

"As long as there's no coffee or liquids around." I heard him mumble.

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- Important Note -

So sometimes authors make simple mistakes. Like saying in the story the concert was that night when I meant to write the next night! I'm very sorry. This tends to happen when you write late at night, or early in the morning... oh well.

Plus! As many of you know, I am American. Very American. So, I don't know everything about London and England in general. I've been doing my research, but if you happen to be British please e-mail me! You can e-mail me anyway, but any help is appreciated.
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Published: 4/21/2012
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