Two Way Street

“Two double chocolate chip cookie dough ice creams in waffles cones, please. And could you put cherries on top of both of those?” I ordered for Mara and me, a wide smile on my face.

The guy behind the counter nodded and punched in the orders. “Five pounds, please.”

I handed over the notes before shoving my wallet back into my back pocket.

He counted the notes carefully, as if I could miscount five pounds. Then, he put my money in the cash register and assured us, “Your ice creams will be out in a second.”

“Thanks,” I responded, turning my back to window so I faced Mara. “Did I order it correctly?”

“Perfectly,” she assured me. “But you’re a copy cat for getting the same thing as me.”

I let out a laugh and wrapped an arm around her waist, careful not to jostle her hurt shoulder. “Oh, please. Like I wanted to try to remember what I wanted after your complicated order. Keeping that long request in my mind was not easy, you know.”

Mara laughed, her entire face lighting up. “Then you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“Ouch,” I joked, putting my free hand to my chest in mock-pain. “You hurt me, Beckett.”

“Deal with it, Payne,” she retorted cheekily. “You’re not getting any pampering from me.”

I opened my mouth to respond with something witty, but I was interrupted by the cashier saying, “Double chocolate chip cookie dough?”

Mara maneuvered around me to take the first cone from the worker in the window. Once she had it in her hand, she moved out of the way, already working her tongue around it, catching the bits that were melting before they got onto her hand.

We sat down at a picnic table, both of us struggling to keep up with the melting speed of our treats. To the outside observer, I was sure that we looked completely ridiculous, laughing and lapping up the ice cream off the side of the cone like dogs.

“Liam?” Mara started, her tone serious, just as I bit into the cone, sending a splash of sweetness into my mouth.

“Uh, yeah?” I garbled with my mouth full.

She gave me a slightly dirty look. “Come on. I’m trying to be serious.”

I gulped down the food in my mouth and wiped my mouth with the back of my head. “Sorry. What is it?”

Instead of making eye contact with me, she stared without blinking at the remainder of her ice cream cone as she said, “What’s going to happen when you’re on tour?”

My eyes narrowed as I tried to figure out what she actually meant by that statement. “Um…I’m going to do concerts and stay on tour buses and in hotel rooms with the boys-”

“Not like that,” she interrupted. “I mean with us.”

I choked on my bite of ice cream, coughing violently a couple of times. “Are you sure this is the best place to discuss this?” I questioned with a hoarse voice and bright red face.

“Just as good a place as any,” she shrugged. “I just want to get this straightened away before you leave.”

After polishing off the rest of my ice cream, I let out a long breath. “Why? Do you not trust me?”

“It’s not that,” she rushed. “It’s just…I like everything to be spelled out. Gray areas…are not my thing. I want to make sure that we have a plan. I don’t want to be another story of how the celebrity and the real girl weren’t able to make it work.”

For a second, I thought about what she said, let the words settle inside my mind. “Look, Mara, I really care about you, but I don’t think we need to make a to-do list while I’m on tour.”

“But-” she tried to interrupt, but I put up a hand to silence her.

“Let me finish, hon.” I stopped for a second, realizing that I’d stolen that pet name from her. “My point is that we can just go with it. Because if we really want this to work, we’ll make it work. We can talk on the phone and Skype and tweet each other… it’ll work out. The distance won’t have to be a death sentence.”

“Maybe we should make up a schedule then?” Mara suggested. “Because what if you get all caught up in all the excitement and forget about me?”

Sighing softly, I took her chin in my hand to force her to look at me. “I’m not going to forget about you. I promise.” I let go and laughed a little. “You act like I won’t be thinking about you every second I’m gone.”

She gave me a small smile. “Please don’t ever say that again. It was disgustingly rom-com.”

“Hey, you like rom-coms,” I argued.

“But I don’t want to live one!”

I groaned good-naturedly and leaned across the table to peck her on the mouth. “Okay. Deal.”

“Great. Now let’s leave. I’m knackered.”

“Today was a crazy day,” I agreed, getting to my feet.

When Mara was on my side of the table, I took her good hand in mine and started toward the car.

“Hey!” a girl’s voice called out, followed by the sound of running footsteps.

Immediately, my stomach dropped, but I pasted on a smile as I turned around to face them.

“Oh my God, you’re Liam Payne!” one of the two girls squealed. They looked to be about twelve or thirteen. Definitely young.

“Yeah,” I confirmed with a smile. Not that they really needed confirming. Because it was kind of obvious who I was.

“Can we get your autograph?” the other girl asked, turning around while her friend handed me a permanent marker.

Using my hand to stretch out the t-shirt, I did the best autograph I could manage before doing the same for her friend.

“Thanks!” they exclaimed in unison. Soon, they ran over to what I guessed to be their family. And then a group of about five teenage girls looked up.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, tightening my grip on Mara’s hand.

“Liam!” a couple of them yelled, coming over to us. Another group heard, turning toward me with curiosity.

I tugged on Mara’s arm.

“Um, ow,” she snapped. “Are you trying make me completely useless?!”

“No. But I don’t want to get swarmed. C’mon, we’re running.”

She didn’t argue, matching her stride with mine perfectly as we darted to my car. I climbed into the driver’s seat, cutting out the sound of screaming that followed us.

When I went to back out of my parking spot, there was a mass of about fifteen girls behind me, and there was no way that I could go anywhere without hitting one of them. And a lawsuit was the last thing the band needed.

So instead, I did the illegal thing and drove forward, over the grass, and pulled straight out into traffic. Thankfully, no other cars had been coming.

When I was sitting at a red light, I turned to look at Mara to see that she was staring out the front windshield, her expression stony and irritated.

“I’m sorry,” I told her sincerely, not knowing what else to say.

She turned to face me, and her look changed dramatically, conveying just one thing. That was what I was afraid of.