totally okay |lrh|

0.3

Lukes POV,,

My phone starts ringing, very loudly, at 10:30, about an hour or so after the boys and I get back to the hotel after a day jammed-full of magazine interviews and photo shoots. I've been sitting at the armchair in the corner in the corner of the room, compulsively staring at my phone since we got back waiting impatiently for the moment when Indie would call. Sitting, trying not to worry that she'd change her mind about tomorrow and just blow me off, cursing myself for not getting her number instead of giving her mine. I was distracted during all the interviews today. I couldn't get her out of my head. The boys blamed the blank, zoned-out expression on my face, and the long gap between the interviewer's questions and my answers on the jet lag. Really, though, I just couldn't get myself to focus on anything that was happening. My mind kept lingering on the memory of Indie's smile, the way the corners of her mouth curved so readily upward at the simplest of things, pulling up the subtle dimples in her cheeks, crinkling the corners of her eyes, which were so brightly blue they reminded me of jewels, like blue topaz glittering in the light. And the way she wasn't mad about me knocking her over; how she brought a sense of humor to the situation. How she was so willing to admit that she'd eat a Big Mac, instead of pretending she didn't like to eat because she thought I'd find that more attractive or something. 

My phone buzzes loudly as I take it out. The caller ID shows an unfamiliar number, so I assume it must be Indie calling. Heart suddenly beating a violent drumbeat against my ribcage, I pick up the phone and hesitantly answer, "Hello?"

The boys, who are sitting on the couch watching some action film, immediately mute the movie and turn around to look at me. They've been teasing me all day about the embarrassing way I met Indie and how nervous I've been about her call—though Michael did commend me for getting her to agree to go on a date with me after doing something so stupid as spilling her lunch all over her.

"Is it her?" Calum whispers to me.

"Luke?" Indie sounds nervous too.

"Yeah," I say, the answer intended for both Indie and Calum.

"Oh, good. I was worried I was going to call the wrong number. No offense, but your handwriting is kind of hard to read."

I laugh. "Sorry."

"Hey, it's no problem. My handwriting looks like chicken scratch, so I really don't have much to complain about."

I laugh again, and the boys all exchange glances, raising their eyebrows, plainly amused. They're going to tease me so much when I hang up the phone, I just know it.

"Rehearsal go alright?" I ask.

"Oh, sure. I mean, my teacher totally yelled at me for being late, so that kinda sucked. But otherwise, it was really good."

"Sorry about making you late," I say sheepishly.

"Oh, it isn't your fault. I should have been paying attention to the time. Anyway, how'd your interviews go?"

"Fine," I say, shrugging, even though I know she can't see me. "Just the same basic question every time. Like, what was it like touring with One Direction, who's the biggest flirt, who's single, stuff like that."

"Luke couldn't answer any questions because he was thinking about you all day!" Michael yells, and Calum and Ashton burst out laughing.

"Shut up, Michael," I say. It's a good thing Indie isn't actually in the room with us, because my face suddenly feels very hot.

"What?" Indie asks.

"Sorry, nothing," I say quickly. "Michael was just being obnoxious."

"I was just telling her the truth!"