Only 3 things I know. 1. I'm a plain Jane. 2. I'm special enough to have been picked out of a crowd. 3. Things will never ever be the same again. By @KimQDuong
“Harry... we’re having twins!” I show him the just peed-on pregnancy test and he drops to his knees, kissing my belly. “We’ll name them Yanny and Laurel.”
His kiss tastes like spearmint gum or reading Jane Austen in the park. I love reading. Parties are overrated, and there’s nothing like being alone or shaming your peers for being social, but anyway, I think I’m in love. Like Jane Austen.
Harry Styles looks at me with his emerald green orbs and says, “Me and the boys are gonna go out for some tea and crumpets after the concert. Will you come as my date? I hope you’re okay with paparazzi.”
“H-hi,” Harry stutters. “Mah name is Harreh. What’s yohrs?” I can’t help it. His British accent is so smooth and warm. Like honey, or hot wax at Uni K Wax Studios.
We walk into the super-exclusive VIP backstage meet and greet, and like ugh I don’t even caaaaaaaare.
But then the guy with tattoos and black hair (looks like a Zayn) nudges Harry and says, “It’s her.”
I look up from playing 2048 to Zoe pointing on stage. The guy with the long brown hair and white T-shirt missed singing his part. He’s staring right at me. Now so is everyone.