Error. [H.S.]

11.

Niall.

She was alone with that prick. Again.

My heart beat for Scotty Klein since the day I met her. Not even an ounce intimidated by the bulk of men she was responsible for signing in that day. She was an enigma, granting a kind, supportive smile to even the most arrogant officers that she was in charge of helping; nothing phased her that day. Stupid fuckers didn't stop to wonder who this blonde civilian girl at the sign-in table was, and nobody assumed she would be the Senior ESU Sargent's daughter. While every other person in the building was highly decorated in their uniform, Scotty sat patiently in a pretty white dress at a fold-up table, and without second thought, my heart decided that this wouldn't be the only time I saw this girl in a white dress.

"Morning," she greeted with a sweet smile, the slightest dimples poking at the apples of her cheeks. "Last name?"

"Horan, Niall Horan." My sorry ass attempted a James Bond reference with the confidence of a high schooler trying to flirt in home room.

To my luck, she still laughed. She had that kind of laughter that made you believe in angels because it was just so pure and genuine.

"Well, Horan, Niall Horan," she teased, skimming down her list with the tip of her pen, "you're going to be number 93 today."  Tucking her pen behind her ear, she fumbled through the large stickers with bold numbers on them. "Here you go. When you change, make sure to put it on your back."

My back? I questioned her integrity when I nodded over towards the field entrance, two guys with their stickers stuck to their torso.

"Oh, they were assholes." Pridefully, she shrugged. "They score points based on sticker placement, believe it or not. It has something to do with how well you listen." She explained mischievously, letting me in on her secret. "They're going to be looking at your back for ninety-five percent of this, their idiots for believing me."

This girl was feisty in such innocent ways, taking a stand for herself by being so subtly aggressive in such a weird little way.

"I'll make sure to beat their asses, just for you."

"You better. I think you'd be good here." Her compliment eases the nerves that had been floundering all day, even if it was a blind compliment.

"Thanks..." I held out the word, signaling for her to fill in the blank.

"Scotty, Scotty Scotty." She mimics my lame impression.

"Your last name's Scotty, too?" I arched a brow at her, searching her expression for any sort of indication that she was joking.

"No, my family isn't that weird." She laughs, grabbing a yellow highlighter and dragging it across my name. "You'll find out my last name eventually."

"The suspense might actually kill me." I shift my duffle bag to my other arm, glancing over at the line of aspiring New York Police Officers, dressed in casual blues, ready to rally.

"I think someone else will kill you first if you're late. You should go change, but hopefully I'll see you again soon." A wink shot my way, dedicated just to me.

Holy shit, where's this girl been my entire life?

"Right," I nod. "Thanks for everything, Scotty Scotty."