the heart never lies (chris evans)

chapter seven - bubble fights

It's the first Friday of the month and our last day of this week with the gang, as they'll be spending the weekend with their families. It's completely understandable, of course, but I can't deny the fact that I'm a little gutted. Liv and I haven't even planned what we're going to do.

Today, however, we're going to a water park — Raging Waters. Honestly, I'm very excited. I used to love all the water rides at the theme parks back home. They're great fun. I am slightly worried though about what I'm going to wear. England is pretty cold and wet mostly all year. But here, in the big city of LA, it's pretty warm and everyone is always in swimwear at these places.

"You look confused." Liv states, coming back into our bedroom from showering, as I stare at the open wardrobe, contemplating what to wear.

"Hm?" I snap my eyes over to her — in her towel, hair in a messy bun. She really is flawless.

"You good?"

"Oh— y-yeah. Just d-don't know what to w-wear today." I state with a sigh. She smiles a little.

"You worried that you have to wear swimwear?" I nod gently. "Wear whatever you feel comfortable in, Meg. It's not like everyone is gonna be in swimwear. You won't be alone. You probably don't have to wear a swimsuit."

"Yeah... I g-guess so. What are y-you w-wearing?"

"I'm gonna wear a bikini and then some denim shorts and a vest, but that's me, not you. Just wear, like, some shorts and a t-shirt. That'll be fine." I nod with a weak smile, before turning back to the wardrobe. I sigh and decide on my denim black dungaree shorts, a vest and one of my checkered shirts. Then I grab some fresh underwear and head into the bathroom to change. Once I'm done, I walk back into the bedroom, where Liv is doing her make-up, and I grab a pair of my Vans. It's still quite early and we won't be setting off for a little bit, so I decide to make myself some breakfast.

"I'm j-just g-gonna go mmmake myself a b-bowl of cereal."

"Okay." Before I leave, I grab my earphones from my bedside table and then walk downstairs to the kitchen. Luckily, it's empty, therefore I can't get judged by how little milk I put in. I plug my earphones in and shuffle songs by The Front Bottoms, before grabbing a bowel and spoon. I pour some Frosties into the bowl and then ever-so-slightly pour droplets of milk in, focusing really hard. That is, until a sudden pair of hands are on my waist.

"BOO!" Evans shouts and I jump out of my skin. The milk carton slips out of my hand and spills in the bowl, on the counter, and even a little bit on me. He bursts out laughing.

"Shit, Evans—" I breathe out, on the verge of a heart attack. He tries to control his laughter, stepping back and throwing a hand over his pec. "I almost had a heart attack! I can't breathe!"

"Awwwww, I'm sorry!" He utters, throwing his arms out and stumbling into me for a hug. Oh, boy. He's hugging me. His arms are around me. Chris Evans is hugging me! GAH! Worth it. "Oh look at that, you spilled your milk everywhere." He states with a smirk and my cheeks burn up. Why am I blushing!?

"Yeah, my cereal is completely ruined now!" I whine.

"What do you mean? It's fine. There's now the perfect amount of milk in there."

"Noooo. That's way too m-much. Milk is v-vile." He laughs again, raising his eyebrows.

"You don't like milk?" I blush a little and clear my throat, grabbing some kitchen roll for the mess on the counter.

"Um, not r-really, no. It makes me feel s-sick."

"Waw. You are something else, Meg." I laugh nervously, wiping the milk up.