Taking Chances

“Chocolate sauce?” I called from the kitchen, leaning around the row of cupboards to look at Louis, who was sitting on the couch, staring off into space.

He snapped back to attention, blinking a couple of times as he focused on me. “Um, sure, thanks.”

I nodded in acknowledgement before sliding back into the kitchen, gliding easily, thanks to my socks, and pouring some Hershey’s chocolate syrup over the two bowls of brownie ice cream. After finishing off the sundaes with a bit of whipped cream, I stuck a spoon in both and carried them into the living room.

“So…” I started off with a massive grin as I settled onto the couch next to him, planting the bowl of ice cream on his lap.

“So what?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow at me. “Why am I even here?”

“Because we’re having a sleepover,” I answered with a sigh. “Friends do this.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I know that. But I know why you asked me to do this, and I wish I hadn’t accepted.”

“Then why don’t you answer it before I ask the question?” I took a bite of ice cream, feeling the cool sensation and chocolatey taste invade my mouth. Ugh, I loved ice cream so much. “It’d save me the trouble of wasting my breath.”

“But what if what I’m thinking isn’t the same thing you’re thinking?” he questioned with raised eyebrows.

I blinked at him a couple of times blankly. “Alright, it’s eleven at night. Don’t confuse me.”

He just stared at me, still waiting for me to ask my question.

Putting some more ice cream in my mouth and chewing the pieces of Heath Bar, I garbled, “So tell me about Harper.”

The lightest of blushes crossed his cheeks, but he tried to cover it up by keeping his eyes locked on his ice cream, stirring it around with his spoon to make it melt. “Where’s Rebecca?”

“I made her sleep outside for the night,” I answered smoothly.

Louis finally looked at me, his eyes wide with shock. “Are you serious?! Oh my God, it’s freezing out there!”

I let out a loud laugh. “Oh my God, I was kidding. She’s locked up in her room, writing a massive paper that’s due on Monday.” After eating some more ice cream, I raised an eyebrow at him in what I hoped was a menacing way. “But don’t change the subject. What’s up with you and Harper?”

He let out a breath, sounding defeated, before answering, “God, I really like her. A lot.”

“Have you asked her out yet?”

“Not officially,” he admitted. “I’m afraid that she doesn’t like me the same way. And she lives so far away. But we’ve hung out a couple times, just as friends.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Louis, suck up your fear and ask her out. Because I’m sure that she likes you, too.”

“Did she say that to you?” Louis asked excitedly, sitting up a little straighter, his eyes sparkling a little brighter.

“No,” I laughed, feeling a light heat spread through my face. “I haven’t spoken with her much since that dinner we had last week. But seriously, I see the way you talk about her, and if you feel this strongly about her, there’s no way that she couldn’t feel the same way.”

“Well, there was this one thing…” he trailed off so softly that I almost didn’t catch it.

“What?” I urged when he didn’t finish, hitting his knee with my own. “What are you talking about?”

He let out another breath. “I guess we’ve had some pictures taken of the two of us when we were out shopping a few days ago, and she started getting hate on Twitter and Tumblr and stuff.”

“Oh, no,” I mumbled, remembering my reaction to the hate, as well as Charlie’s. Neither of us had taken it very well.

“No, no,” Louis insisted, a small smile starting to appear on his face, “she fought back. Hold on…” He pulled out his phone and started clicking around. “She wrote this post on Tumblr, since it was too long for Twitter, and she just tweeted the link for it. But I want to read it exactly, since it was so perfect.”

I finished off my ice cream before leaning over to put the empty bowl on the table. Soon, it was joined by Louis’ abandoned bowl. I noticed how much melted ice cream was melted at the bottom and held in a groan. What a waste of perfectly delicious dessert.

“Okay, found it,” Louis butted into my thoughts of his destruction. Then, after clearing his throat softly, he started, “Dear all the lovely people-”

“Louis, no,” I interrupted, leaning forward to snatch the phone out of his hand. “I’m not going to understand if you read it to me. Just let me read it for myself.”

He let me take the phone, but gave me a pretty hardcore sassy look for it. “What? Was my reading not good enough for you?”

“Your reading is beautiful,” I reassured him. “Almost as great as Morgan Freeman’s.”

He stared at me, unsure whether I was kidding or not, but I wasn’t paying close enough attention to give him an indicator. I was too busy reading the perfect post that was from the one and only Harper.

Dear all the lovely people who have been sending me tweets lately,

How are you all doing? Well? Great. Because I’ve really been enjoying your messages, telling me how ugly I am, how pointless I am, how I don’t deserve Louis. It’s really sweet of you to take time out of your day to acknowledge my meek existence. And I’m so happy that you guys care enough about him to watch his back for any snotty girls that are only interested in his status and money.

But I’m going to set something straight. Louis Tomlinson and I are NOT dating. We’re just friends. And friends are allowed to hang out with each other without every fangirl in the world sending me hate. Further, I’m not a money-hound. My cousin’s in a band. Fame doesn’t interest me, nor does money. It’s a person’s character that matters.

On that same note, if Louis’ hanging out with me, whether romantic or not, then guess what? That means that I obviously have something about me that he likes, so I can’t be that ugly or worthless or stupid. What I don’t understand is that if I’m good enough for him, I should be good enough for all of you, too. Shouldn’t you want to see him happy if you’re really a fan?

Just some musings from a worthless, hideous waste of space that is somehow so gross that I’ve attracted the attention of Louis Tomlinson. BYE.

HARPER

“Oh my God,” I trailed off after reading the post for the third time. “She’s brilliant.”

“Isn’t she though?” Louis grinned. “I texted her saying that the post was entirely perfect.”

I laughed and handed Louis his phone back. “Tell her that I love her.”

“I will. That’s way easier than saying it myself.”

“You love her?” I teased.

He flushed dark red as he struggled to stuff his phone into the pocket of his skinny jeans. “Shut up. Now, your turn. Have you lost your virginity to Zayn yet?”

My face, ears, and neck all burned as I scrambled to my feet. “I have to put these in the sink,” I explained hurriedly as I all but ran to the kitchen.

“I KNOW THAT MEANS YES!” he called after me.

I focused on the dishes in front of me, pretending that my best guy friend wasn’t asking me on my virginity status and that I wasn’t blushing so deeply that my skin could have melted off.