So this is actually happening. I’m literally parked next to a crowded curb on Cake Face’s street, I’m really in the dress Hayden picked out for me, my hair is definitely in curls, I am indeed wearing more makeup than usual, and I’m seriously going to this party. This is reality, and I can’t believe this shit is happening.

I anxiously played with a curl on my head by pulling down on it and releasing it, allowing the curl to bounce back into place as I read the last text Tate had sent me:

No, you don’t need to ring the doorbell haha. We wouldn’t be able to hear it. Just walk in.

I let out a whine and plopped the back of my head against the headrest on my seat. Do I have to just walk in? I feel like that’s such an extremely rude thing to do. I don’t know about Leah, but I truly would not just allow people to barge into my house, especially people like me who she didn’t even invite to begin with.

I swear I must’ve sat in the car for half an hour just staring at her damn house. Nobody was outside, but judging by the blaring music and the fact that every light in the house was on, there was definitely a party in there. In a way, I was regretting even showing up, and I was even willing to chicken out. I was still in my car, and I could’ve easily just turned the key in the ignition and started up the car again, but I didn’t. I just sat there longer.

I have no idea what I was even waiting for. I joked to myself that I was in the Twilight Zone since there seemed to be no signs of civilization on this street. I wondered how many people were actually in that large building, and then I even found myself counting cars to get an estimate. I counted twelve cars parked on the curbs, including mine and the few cars in her large driveway, and I decided there was probably thirty-six to sixty people in there. Then, I realized I was stalling. I was so nervous that I was willing to sit in my car and do math.

“This is ridiculous,” I grumbled to myself while rolling my eyes. I grabbed the black clutch my mother let me borrow, tossed my phone into it, and slid on the velvety black heels we had bought for me to wear with the dress. I wasn’t wearing the heels before because they are such a pain to drive in with that stupid heel part in the way.

I opened up my car door, but shut it just as quickly and let out a groan of annoyance. What am I so damn scared of? It couldn’t be peer pressure, right? I think I can manage saying no to things I’m uncomfortable with. As I thought about it some more, I came to the realization that it was the people that I was scared of. Not because I’m intimidated by them or anything, it’s just that I’ve never seen a drunk person in my life, and I know I’m about to tonight. I don’t know how exactly to handle that, and it worries me that I will have to deal with it since there’s a possibility that Jon Jon or Tate could be one of those people.

I came to this party knowing exactly what I was walking into, so I need to just get my shit together and get out of the damn car. That’s exactly what I did.

I took a deep breath before reopening the door and sliding myself out of the car. I began chuckling to myself about how ridiculous I must look right now because not only have I been sitting in the car having an argument with myself, but I’m also exiting a Jeep Wrangler in a dress and heels.

I listened to my heels click as I walked away from my now locked car and tossed my keys into my clutch. It’s a very peaceful noise to me. I know most people find it obnoxious and distracting, but I love how the sound somewhat echoes against the ground you walk on.

Finally, I reached the maroon double doors of Leah’s three story house. I wanted to knock just to tick Tate off, but like he said in the text, they wouldn’t even know I’ve knocked. As uncomfortable as I felt, I grabbed the doorknob, twisted it, and pushed the door open to allow myself to walk in.

Surprisingly, no one even seemed to notice me slip in, but I was okay with that since my stomach was already doing painful backflips due to my stupid anxiety. Still, my discomfort worsened when I scanned the crowd, spotting every girl’s choice of clothing. They wore tank tops, tube tops, crops tops, and every other type of skin revealing top you can think of. Skinny jeans, booty shorts, waistline shorts, and leggings were sported with their tops. Then there’s me, wearing a nice dress. This night is already off to a fantastic start.

I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that I’m overdressed or the fact that the shrilling noise of Dubstep is blasting out of the speakers and ringing in my ears. Either way, I feel like puking.

“Devon?!” a high-pitched nasally voice shouted over the music. I closed my mouth and swallowed the gag I had felt coming before I faced Leah. There she was, wearing ounces and ounces of makeup on her face as she usually does. She held a red solo cup in one hand while her other hand sat on her bare hip, just under her short shirt. “What are you doing here?” she scrunched her face up in confusion, but still shot me a polite smile.

I felt my heart drop to my stomach, adding to the sickening feeling I already had. “I, uh, Tate, um, he had, uh,” I stumbled over my words, trying to fight the aches I felt.

“I’m just teasing you,” she giggled and playfully waved her hand towards me. I let out a forced laughter, but I hope I still managed to keep a convincing smile on my face. “Tate and Jon Jon told me you were coming,” she continued as her eyes scanned my body up and down, most likely wondering why I’m in a dress. “Um, let me take you to the boys,” she placed a hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me in front of her.

She led me down a hallway and to an open room on the right. We had to walk down a few steps into her jam-packed living room, only to turn right again and walk back up a few steps to her ginormous kitchen.

Her kitchen was just as gorgeous as I remember it. The first noticeable thing is the white tiled flooring that my heels had clicked against. The left wall is made up of glass which is held up by black medal paneling, allowing us to have a full view of the stunning backyard and the starry sky. A wooden dining room table sits closely to the glass wall, using a clear vase full of fake sunflowers as a centerpiece while the table itself is being surrounded by modern white chairs. On the other side of the room, where the wall is white, the room holds a white marble table with two chestnut brown chairs sitting in front of it. The wall on the right was covered in smooth, dark mahogany wood that matched the pattern on the stairs we had just walked up. There’s an opening over the stove on the wall, allowing space for cooking and use of the giant metal box. Also, the coolest part is that there are two ovens sitting on top of each other in the wooden wall, next to the opening. Why’s it cool? Because this room has two ovens, that’s why.

In the center of the room, a row of the wooden counters and a wooden bar with are separated by a short white marble wall that stands between them. Metal bar stools, holding plastic green seats and resting by the wooden bar, are all occupied by Tate and his friends from our English class, as well as two other girls who are standing by them. Surprisingly, the group of six were the only ones in the kitchen (that is if you don’t count the people walking out to the backyard).

Jon Jon held a bottle of clear liquor in one hand, and everyone in their crowd was holding an empty shot glass. Each of them turned their heads towards Mark who said something that had everyone bursting into uncontrollable laughter. Jon immediately poured the liquid into Mark’s glass, and all of them began chanting the boy’s name as he threw his head back and let the drink slide down his throat.

Tate was still laughing with his bright smile instantly lighting up the room. His eyes squinted as the beautiful sound fell from his lips and his hand clapped against the counter. I couldn’t help but look at the flexing muscles in his arm which soon turned into me checking out the entirety of his body. He wore a light blue t-shirt that was tight against his skin and made his eyes stand out, some dark grey jeans, and plain white Vans. His dirty blonde hair wasn’t styled with its usual triangular quiff, and was instead pushed back with a black snapback.

“Tate!” the nasally girl beside me shouted to him as we walked closer, stopping me from drooling over the attractive boy.

His blue eyes locked on Leah before they looked towards me, and his smile widened, making butterflies erupt in my tummy. Though I don’t like the feeling of having butterflies, it was at least better than the ache I had felt before.

“Devon!” he greeted me with wide arms as soon as he stood up from his stool.

“Hey,” I waved shyly before stepping into his embrace and wrapping my arms around his torso. It was a foreign feeling being hugged by a guy that’s not my brother or father. Yup, it’s true, no guy has ever wasted their time giving me a hug. I’m literally a guy-hugging virgin, but I guess Tate broke that now.

To be honest, I’m not really much of a hugger anyways.

“I like your dress,” he pulled away slightly, but kept me at arm’s length as he looked me up and down. “You look really nice.”

“I do?” I felt my cheeks heat up and watched as he lightly nodded his head. Does it honestly not faze him that I’m the only one wearing a dress? Oh shut up, Devon. The boy just gave you a compliment. Just take it as it is. “Thank you,” I bit down on my lip, trying to hide the stupid looking grin that was creeping on my face.

“Here, take my seat,” he gestured to the empty barstool, and I obliged while setting my clutch onto the tall table. I turned to thank Leah for bringing me over, but it appeared she had already left the room. I guess I can’t be too surprised since it is her party, and she probably has more important shit to do. “Guys,” Tate caught his group’s attention. “You know Devon. Devon, that’s Danielle and Megan that you haven’t met yet.”

“Hi,” I breathed out and slightly waved at the girls.

“Nice to meet you,” the tan skinned girl with thick, naturally curled, mocha brown hair beamed at me. The pretty girl, whom I believe Tate had called Danielle, had her arm draped around Roy’s shoulders, and he had an arm snaked around her waist. Go Roy.

The other girl, Megan, just simply nodded her head at me, seeming to be focused on whatever it is that they were doing before I came. One thing that stood out about Megan was her plump cheekbones and lips that became prominent as she smiled down at Jon Jon. People with Botox would kill for looks like Megan’s.

“Duzzy Fuck,” Mark slurred his words and immediately giggled and hiccupped afterwards.

Jon Jon rolled his eyes, “Now you’re just trying to lose. If you want a drink, just say so.”

“What are you guys doing?” I hesitated while asking since I was nervously glancing over at Mark. I didn’t expect to be encountering a drunk so soon.

“We’re playing Fuzzy Duck,” Roy informed me as if I’d know what that was.

I heard Tate chuckle beside me and spun the barstool around so I could look over at him. “Fuzzy Duck is a drinking game,” he explained with one arm leaning onto the bar. “We all go around in a circle and say ‘Fuzzy Duck,’ and once someone messes up, they have to take a drink.”

“Sounds easy.”

“Trust me, it’s not. Do you want to play?”

My mother told me I wasn’t allowed to come home if I was wasted on any type of drug, and she told me I especially am not allowed to drive my car in that state, but I honestly doubt this game is difficult while playing sober, and I definitely don’t think it’ll be me who loses. It should be a piece of cake. I shrugged, “How hard can it be?”

“You seem so sure of yourself,” he shook his head with a big smile still playing on his lips. He held out his shot glass to me, “I haven’t had to take a shot yet because Mark keeps losing right off the bat, so you can use mine.” I nodded and shakily accepted the glass while he added, “We’re convinced Mark just wants to get completely hammered since it’s his first time drinking, and he thinks this makes him some kind of rebel,” in a whisper.

I chuckled, “Maybe I think I’m some kind of badass for playing this game.” He shot me a look that basically says, “Oh really?” and I laughed again. “You’re right, this game is too easy to make me seem cool.”

“You’re so cocky,” he laughed. “It’s great because you will lose whether you want to believe it or not.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “You’re on.”

“Okay guys, Devon’s taking my spot,” Tate announced to the group, and I received a few cheers.

“Okay, last round because I want to go dance,” Jon Jon wiggled in his seat and pointed towards the drunk boy, “and Mark can’t play this time.”

Mark whined and threw his head back dramatically. “That’s so mean,” he stated slowly. “You guys are so mean.”

“Drink more later,” Megan ruffled his hair. “Okay, I’ll start. Fuzzy Duck.”

“Fuzzy Duck.”

“Fuzzy Duck.”

The round went on for a while, but what I didn’t realize we were going to do was increase our speed in saying it. Now that I think about it, it makes sense because it gives those of us who haven’t drank yet a little challenge.

“Fuzzy Duck.”

“Fuzzy Duck.”

“Fuzzy Dick.”

“Fuzz…” I threw my hand over my mouth once Roy had noticed my mistake and stopped his words. Holy shit, I just lost.

The whole group busted out into laughter over the funny phrase, and even I couldn’t control my giggling. Tate stepped in front of me with a smirk, laughter still falling from his lips, and grabbed the shot glass out of my hand to pour some alcohol into it.

“Drink up, Miss Confident,” he teased as he held the glass out to me, but I only stared down at it. Here it is: one of those moments where I feel pressured to do something I don’t want to do. The thing is, I brought this upon myself. I really should just take that throat-burning shot as a punishment for my stupidity. I mean, the guy did warn me, but I was too cocky to think, “What could possibly go wrong?” This could go wrong. I lost. Wow, Devon. Just your luck.

“You know, you don’t have to drink it,” Tate smiled sweetly at me when I finally looked up at him. “If you don’t drink, that’s totally fine.”

“Yeah, I’ll drink it,” Jon Jon stumbled to his feet. He attempted to grab the shot glass from Tate but had completely missed, and the blonde wasn’t even trying to keep it from him.

Tate let out a booming laugh at his wobbly friend, “I think you’ve already had too many.”

“Too much of one thing is not enough,” his words are surprisingly coherent for someone who can’t even balance on his two feet, and it seems that his dumbness is still intact.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Tate asked his friend as he managed to safely hand the glass over to him and cupped his hands beneath it afterwards just in case Jon drops it.

The Asian slammed the drink down his throat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Loud and clear,” he nodded vigorously before turning to Megan and grabbing her hand. “Let’s go dance.”

By now, the rest of the group had already scattered, so it was just Tate and I in the kitchen as Jon and Megan ran to another room in a fit of giggles.

“Do you want to dance?” Tate asked me, and I shyly shook my head. “Oh come on, you must do something,” he leaned his elbow on the counter, and I must say, he is rather close to me.

I shrugged and let out a nervous giggle. “I’ve never really been to a party like this,” I admitted, and I could feel my hand tremors worsening.

He looked up at the ceiling for a second, deep in thought, before locking eyes with mine, “Do you smoke?”

“Nope.”

“You’re telling me Hayden smokes, and you don’t?” he seemed genuinely surprised. It’s true, Hayden tends to smoke weed often, and I’m too much of a goody-good to try it. No matter how many times she may ask me, I still will say no.

“Do you smoke?” I became curious as to how he knew about Hayden’s habits.

He slightly nodded, “Not cigarettes or anything bad, but yeah, I do.” This is great. I finally found something I don’t like about this guy. It’s not like that was my goal or anything, but he seemed too perfect. It’s not like this changes my opinion of him or anything (that’d be hypocritical since Hayden’s a pothead), but I’m not very fond of smokers of any kind. As long as he doesn’t try to pressure me into anything, he will still remain this perfect image in my mind.

“Well, if we want to get technical, it is bad in a sense that it could get you fined,” I smirked at the muscular boy.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, “Whatever, Devon. Now come on, let’s go dance.”

My shoulders slumped and I found myself whining his name, but he only laughed it off and grabbed my hand to lift me to my feet. “I don’t think I’d be much fun dancing with a clutch,” I giggled and picked up the purse from the bar. Really? That’s your best excuse? Was that even an excuse?

“You can put it with the rest of our things,” he shrugged before pulling me towards the kitchen counter. It sounded as if he was opening a drawer, but I was too busy looking at our linked hands to care. Tate has been a couple of my firsts now: the first guy to hug me, and now the first guy to hold my hand. Seventeen years of life, and I’m just now experiencing this stuff. I wonder if he can tell that my hand is still shaking.

“Jon Jon really thought this through,” Tate’s words brought me back to reality, and I shot him a look of confusion. “Yeah, I know. The fool actually has a brain somewhere in that head of his,” he chuckled. Still unsure of what he’s talking about, I watched Tate pull the silverware tray out of a drawer and reveal car keys, cellphones, wallets, a pack of cigarettes, and an E-Cigarette. Tate grabbed my clutch from me and put it in with the other things before pulling his phone out of his pocket and adding it to the pile as well. Surprisingly the drawer was huge enough to hide all of those things underneath the tray without being noticeable. I mean, if you really look at it, you can tell something’s up, but to the many wasted people that are here, they will most likely not be able to tell the difference. “Smart huh?”

“Yeah,” I forced a smile to him. It really was a brilliant idea, but the clutch was the only excuse I had not to dance. Why did I even bother coming to this party if I don’t like dancing? Oh yeah. Very attractive guy and a chance to come out of my shell.Just keep reminding yourself that.

After Tate closed the drawer, he gently tugged my hand and began walking towards the stairs. “So do you just not like dancing, or are you bad at it?” he shot me this cute little smirk.

“Both,” I said the words questioningly and he laughed. “Well I only know the stupid dance moves.”

“Like what?” he stopped us right before the stairs to the living room, so he had to speak up over the blaring Skrillex. I nervously crossed my arms over my chest and shrugged my shoulders. “Show me,” he flashed me a small but comforting grin as he gently pulled my arms apart. “Please?”

After letting out a dramatic sigh that only seemed to amuse him, I finally caved in. “I know the disco,” I spoke as I did the dance, and he covered his mouth to suppress his grin. “I know the Shopping Cart,” I giggled as I demonstrated that dance move as well. “I told you, they are pretty stupid.”

“Do you know the diver one?” he smiled as he began to do the dance move. I watched as he plugged his nose with one hand and began wiggling his other arm which was bent. I couldn’t hide my giggles as I began to do the moves with him, and he laughed along. “See?” he nudged my arm. “You can totally dance.”

“Why do I feel like that was sarcastic?”

He softly clutched his hand over his heart while saying, “That was not sarcasm, I swear. It doesn’t even matter how you dance anyways. It’s not like anyone’s going to remember tonight. Just go with the flow.”

I tried to ignore the fact that Tate’s claiming everyone here is going to be trashed to a point that they’ll be impaired, but it’s the fact that he’s included with everyone that worries me. I really hope he doesn’t decide to leave me as the only sober one because I’m definitely not about to deal with a situation like that.

“You probably should’ve taken that shot,” he gripped my hand again and began leading me down the set of stairs and towards the crowd. “It would’ve helped you relax.”

“Are you saying I’m uptight?” I raised a brow jokingly at him.

He shook his head, “Not at all.”

He pulled me through the crowd until we found his group of friends. I felt awful for laughing at the fact that Jon Jon only comes to Megan’s shoulders, but it was just too funny not to have a chuckle at the two of them dancing together.

Tate started bouncing his body with the music, and pointed towards me with his index fingers, trying to encourage me to join him, but he really just managed to force what’s most likely a goofy looking grin on my face. When he slowly started creeping closer and closer to me, I playfully rolled my eyes, but I finally joined him in swaying my body to the song.

It was kind of complicated to figure out how to dance to Dubstep. I guess jumping around pretty much does it, so that’s what I did. Not a good idea. These heels aren’t made for hopping. I wound up having to stick with swaying my hips to the song and leaving it at that.

It only took minutes before sweat started seeping through my pours which means it was making the roots of my hair turn a few shades darker. Tate didn’t seem to mind it. In fact, the boy even appeared to be sweating more than I was. I know I shouldn’t be surprised since he’s huge, and it seems men typically sweat more than women, but my fat man sweat glands beg to differ.

The crowd began cramming closer and closer to us, leaving everyone to be squished together. It seemed like it was a typical thing to the boys and their friends since none of them minded whenever I’d accidentally bump my hips into theirs. I, on the other hand, was unimpressed with my feet getting stepped on and some tall guy’s thigh “unintentionally” rubbing against my butt. I swear, I couldn’t feel more uncomfortable dancing near that guy, but luckily, Tate decided to step in between us while managing to remain a safe distance away from me. I couldn’t decide whether he noticed my discomfort or was just wanting to dance near me, but no matter what the reason was, I honestly was just grateful to be separated from that freak.

I hated to admit it, but I was having a blast with the group, but that was before they started to add more alcohol into the mix. Danielle kept pouring tequila down Roy’s throat for him, and Megan and Jon Jon kept downing more of his vodka straight from the bottle. Somehow, we lost sight of the wasted Mark in all of the craziness, but the boys insisted that he’d be fine.

I wasn’t particularly surprised that everyone was drinking. After all, it is one of those parties. It was when Tate started to down some vodka, as well, that made me begin to worry. He was actually going to let me be the only sober one in the group, and that was the thing I had feared most coming into this. Even though I was becoming more and more uneasy, I tried not to let everything get to me.

You’re here because a hot guy invited you, and you’re trying to step out of your comfort zone. Really attractive guy. Step out of your shell.

When Tate decided to stumble away to retrieve a drink of his own, I was left with his friends who were beginning to grind all over each other. I wasn’t even dancing anymore at that point. Instead, I awkwardly stood between the couples and scanned the crowd for dirty blonde hair and a black snapback.

Minutes. It felt like minutes, and he still hadn’t returned. My first thought was that he ditched me, just as everyone always tends to do, but then I remembered that he’s drunk and possibly forgot where exactly we were located. I decided that the first one was more than likely when I noticed his friends had disappeared as well. I was alone in a crowd full of sweaty, horny, and wasted teenagers, and I was petrified.

I was tired of standing in my heels, and the room was becoming too hot for me to handle. I quickly made a path for myself through the crowd by pushing people out of my way without a care and wound up receiving lots of dirty looks that I had only ignored.

I finally managed to find a couch, and as soon as I approached it, I found a familiar face sitting on it. Mark laid his pale head on the back of the couch as his hands clutched his stomach. It took me a second to realize exactly what was wrong with him, but by then, it was too late. Mark had snatched the bowl of chips off of the coffee table and began emptying his stomach into it.

I let out a gasp and quickly turned away, not wanting to see or hear him being sick. See there’s this thing called Emetophobia, and it’s a fear I’ve had since the fifth grade when a kid puked on his lunch tray right next to me. That’s right, I have an irrational fear of vomit. To my family, my phobia is like pure comedy because when someone coughs like they have smoker’s lungs, I start panicking and thinking they’re about to be sick. I get scared even when I feel sick, and I begin to cry in fear of what’s to come. It’s really bad, so imagine how I feel right now. What I had just experienced is why I feared being around drunk people.

I didn’t even hesitate to run towards and up the stairs, into the kitchen, and out into the backyard. I covered my face with my shaky hands and began trying to control my ragged breaths. I’m not sure how I managed to run in these fucking heels, but I suppose anyone would do anything to get away from the thing that causes them anxiety.

As I stood there, I had to force my brain to think of other things to distract me from the vivid image of Mark heaving. I thought about how today’s practice was really fun, despite the fact that, yet again, Eleanor and I were the only ones who were able to even catch a ball. Then, I found myself smiling at the memory of Louis and Niall dancing like idiots in the sidelines because they were bored of the skate park. They had decided that attempting to disturb Eleanor and I was more fun, but their plan only worked on Eleanor who would roll her eyes and curse at them. I, on the other hand, was extremely entertained by them and couldn’t stop my uncontrollable fit of giggles.

When I felt I had gained my composure, I removed my hands from my face so I could take a look around the backyard. Cake Face has a ginormous, clear blue pool that’s lights were on and a few people were swimming in it while fully clothed. There was a short wall of rocks on the hill behind the pool that were obviously built that way since there’s a hole in the wall that holds a tan slide, and there’s also a waterfall coming from the top of the wall. I’m guessing there’s a spa behind the wall since there’s a few people sitting up there, but I honestly didn’t care about that at the moment. All I wanted was to free my throbbing feet from my painful heels, and find a source of comfort for them.

I held both of my heels in one hand and made my way over to the deep end of the pool where the others weren’t at. I sat down on the ledge, and quickly crossed my legs so people couldn’t see under my dress as I set my heels down beside me and stuck my feet into the cold water. It felt refreshing being out of the cramped house and instead, sitting outside where the cool breeze was blowing my curls to the side and hitting against my warm skin. I was relaxed as I watched the water ripple whenever I’d rock my feet and listened to the peaceful splashing the waterfall was creating.

I heard some girl giggling away, and I instinctively turned my head towards her. She stood before a taller guy who had one arm wrapped around her as his other hand played with her hair. They stood on the other end of the yard, so I couldn’t exactly hear what he was telling her, but she was laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. I couldn’t help but smile when he sweetly leaned down and kissed her forehead before pulling her into an embrace. By the way they interacted with each other, it was quite obvious that the two of them are dating or will soon be dating.

I wondered what it was like to be treated the way that guy was treating the girl. It made me envy them, really. I wished a guy would kiss me on the forehead or try to keep a smile on my face like that. Just like everyone else in the world, I want to be loved and accepted by someone. Not everyone wants it to come from a significant other like I do, but it’s literally my dream: to love someone someday and for them to love me back. That shit is hard to come by though, and I’ve learned that the hard way.

“Not much of a partier either?”

I turned my head to find a certain curly-haired boy standing beside me. He looked so good in his all black attire that consisted of a tight t-shirt, skinny jeans, and ankle boots. The one thing he was wearing that wasn’t black was his olive green bandana that was pushing his unruly curls out of his face which I’m sure the cloth makes his beautiful green eyes pop out, but I couldn’t exactly tell from only having the pool lights to rely on.

I still hadn’t answered Harry, and I noticed him grin a lopsided smile before he sat down and propped his leg up to use as an arm rest. “I’ve been to kids’ parties that are better than this,” he spoke as he stared down at the water. I must have not paid much attention before because I didn’t realize that he spoke out of one side of his mouth as well, and I found myself not being able to tear my eyes away from his lips.

I shook my head once I realized that, yet again, I still hadn’t said a word. “It’d be better if they played good music,” I shyly looked towards my feet that were still rocking in the water, but this time it was out of nerves.

“Yes,” he dragged the word, and from the corners of my eyes, I could see him dramatically waving his arms. “Thank you. Finally someone who agrees.”

“What would you rather them play?” I curiously asked.

He hummed as he thought it over before looking over at me and replying, “In all honesty, I’d prefer to listen to The Beatles or Elvis Presley.”

I scoffed and giggled, “Well then you’re definitely at the wrong kind of party. As great as they are, they are not the typical hip shaking artists nowadays.”

“Well, they could at least have the decency to play some Coldplay here,” he muttered, and I nodded.

“Coldplay’s a good band. It’s still not exactly the type of music that should play at a party like this, but their music definitely makes me want to dance.”

“Well, there you go. Something we agree on,” his diagonal smile popped out a dimple. “Do you want to go for a walk or something? I think we could both use a break from this place.”

I don’t want to leave Tate, but then again, Tate pretty much left me. Maybe I should just be grateful someone actually wants to spend time with me, rather than pretending that the insanely popular guy will actually come find me.

I didn’t want to seem too eager in accepting Harry’s request, so I looked at my heels which were laying on the other side of me and lifted them up for Harry to see. “In these?”

“Well, why are you even wearing a dress and heels? Do you have someone to impress, Tingley?” he raised a brow teasingly at me. Oh, I was just dressing to impress the other guy I find attractive. No big deal.

I rolled my eyes at him and groaned, “I knew someone would comment on it eventually.” I pulled my feet from the pool, carefully stood up without flashing anyone my underwear, adjusted my dress, and held my shoes at my side. I didn’t even wait for Harry to stand up before heading into the kitchen and over to the silverware drawer to open it.

“You know, when I suggested that we should go for a walk, I didn’t expect you to want to bring a butter knife to try and attack me with,” Harry’s breathed fanned against my neck as he peered over my shoulder. I sarcastically laughed before lifting the silverware tray up and revealing Tate and his friends’ stuff, along with my clutch. “Well that’s convenient,” I heard the British boy say as I grabbed my purse and put the tray back into the drawer before closing it.

“I just need to text my friend and let them know I’m leaving,” I informed Harry as I pulled my phone out and began typing away on the keyboard.

“So these were your plans huh?” he leaned against the counter as he patiently waited for me.

“Yeah, and yours? I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his voice laced with feign hurt. “You don’t think I’m cool enough to be at a party like this?”

I looked up from my phone and lightly smiled. “I mean, you look and dress like one of those douchebag populars, but personality wise, you seem more like a dork than someone who’d constantly party.”

I expected him to pout and call me mean, or maybe even tell me I’m wrong, but instead, he shrugged and said, “I could say the same to you.”

“Honestly? Yeah. This isn’t exactly my type of setting,” I admitted as I went back to typing on my phone.

“Well duh. Your dress basically says it all. You’ve probably never been to a house party before.”

I chose to ignore his words as I read the text over:

Hey. I have to go because my parents wanted me home early. I didn’t want to bother you, so I thought I’d just send you a text. Thanks for the invite. I had fun.

So I kind of lied, but I didn’t want to let Tate know that I was ditching him. I know he did that to me, but I still feel guilty for not even looking for the guy. The reason I used my parents as an excuse was because my father always says, “To avoid an awkward situation, you’re allowed to make your mother and I look like the bad guys.” This is an excuse I rarely use since Hayden’s my only friend, and she knows they definitely are not strict people. Also, I thought I’d leave after Harry and I went on this walk, just so I’m gone before another person decides to desert me for the night.

After clicking send, I began heading for the stairs, but Harry stopped me in my tracks by grabbing my wrist. I turned my head towards him to find his questioning gaze on me. “Where are you going?”

“To the front door?” I questioned with furrowed brows. “Where else would I be going?”

“Um, you do know they have a gate, right?” he pointed his thumb towards the backyard. “We can just go the shorter route. I heard it’s easier,” he joked.

“Shut up,” I giggled and hit his shoulder with my clutch. “Lead the way then, Sassy Styles.”

“I will, Temperamental Tingley,” he teased as I followed him outside.

I let out a sound between a laugh and a gasp, “I am not temperamental.”

“Says the girl who just hit me.”

“I really want to hit you again,” I mumbled under my breath.

Well, I thought I spoke quiet enough, but unfortunately he had heard and replied with, “See? You’ve got a temper on you. You should really see someone about that. Maybe take an Anger Management class or two.”

“Dick,” I growled and slapped him across the back of his head.

“Told you,” he smirked as he rubbed the spot I had hit him. I only rolled my eyes since I finally decided that speaking wasn’t exactly helping my case.

When we finally reached the fence, I immediately became confused. “Uh, I thought you said there was a gate,” I reminded him.

“Oh, I lied,” he shrugged like it was no big deal. “Do you really think these people would have a gate door that you could easily slip in and out of? Nope,” he answered his own question before I could even think about it. “We’re climbing over the fence.”

“Why?” I whined. “We could literally just walk through the front door.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

“What’s the fun in this?”

His eyes shifted from me, to the fence, then back towards me. “Well it definitely won’t be boring,” he chuckled.

“I’m not dressed right for this,” I pouted, and he whimsically rolled his eyes.

“Would you like help getting over it? Do you need a boost?” he pointed towards my bare feet.

I raised a brow at him, “Are you just looking for an excuse to look up my dress?”

“Would you like me to lie, or do you want the truth?”

“You’re a pig,” I laughed.

“In my defense, any guy in my situation would feel the same way.”

“Correction: Men are pigs,” I snootily replied. “Why don’t you climb the fence first? You can show me how it’s done.”

He nodded, “Okay, but it’s honestly not that hard.” He walked closer to the fence and put his foot on the lower horizontal bar. “You just put your foot here,” he instructed while I pretended that I actually cared about this, “and then you push up so your other foot can stand on this bar.” He placed his right foot on the bar in the middle of the fence, and then he swung his left foot over the fence before saying, “And then you just jump down.” Once he hopped onto his feet, he satisfactorily rose his arms in the air, “It’s as simple as that.”

“Good job,” I exaggerated my excitement as I put my hand through the fence to ruffle the chocolate curls on the top of his head. “Now, I’m going to go through the front door,” I smirked as I turned away from him to walk back into the house.

I heard him shout, “You’re no fun!” but I continued to walk away with an amused smile.

I managed to get out front without running into Tate or any of his friends. That would’ve been an awkward conversation, regardless of my strict parents excuse. Instead, I got to have a laugh once I reached the large driveway and found a glaring Harry with his arms crossed and an impatiently tapping foot.

“That took forever,” he complained.

I giggled, “I was out of there within two minutes.”

“Whatever,” he sighed dramatically but wasn’t able to keep his poker face on. He nodded his head towards the sidewalk, “Let’s go.”

“Can I put my heels in my car real fast?” I asked, and he groaned. “Oh hush. Another minute won’t kill you.” I even ran over to my car for him before tossing my heels and my clutch into it. I made sure to put my lanyard around my neck and my phone in my bra so I wouldn’t necessarily have to carry those either, and then I locked my car with a click of a button on my keys. “See? One minute,” I smiled at Harry once I reached him.

“Actually,” he held up his phone towards me with a sly smile on his face. The screen read “1:47” along with the choices of “Start” and “Lap” since it was a stopwatch app.

I bit down on my lips in attempt to cover up my smile. “You timed me? You’re a strange one, Styles,” I shook my head.

“I’ve been called worse,” he shrugged as we began our walk. “Wait, wait, wait,” of course, he made a sudden abrupt stop and grabbed my forearm to keep me from walking any further.

“What now?” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “You’re the one who was in such a hurry.”

“Shh,” he covered my mouth and I giggled into his hand even though I was shooting him a questioning look. “Do you hear that? The song that’s playing?”

I listened closely to the sounds coming from the house when realization had hit me. It was the only song of the night that was actually not a Dubstep song. Rather than that, a song by a rapper named Flo Rida was blasting through the speakers. It wasn’t too much of a step up from Skrillex and Bassnectar, but it was a little better.

“Yeah?” Harry wiggled his eyebrows at me before removing his hand from my face and began swaying his upper body to the song. “I think we owe it ourselves to dance to a hip shaking artist’s song,” he used my earlier words against me.

“I’ll just watch you,” I laughed and enjoyed the entertainment of him waving his head around like a loon.

I should’ve known he wouldn’t give me much of a choice since, well, he’s Harry. He grabbed my wrists and pulled and pushed my arms back and forth to the music as he sang along with the music. I just shook my head and giggled as I allowed him to toss my arms around. He finally gave up and released my arms without a care before trying to twerk a little. He was a terrible twerker since his butt didn’t do as much shaking as his torso did, and that was definitely not how that dance is done. He wiggled his feet in a bug squashing motion as he swayed himself and lowered his body to a squat while continuing to belt out the lyrics, and I had my arms wrapped around my pained stomach from laughing so hard.

---

“My father would probably kill me if he knew I was out walking in the dark right now,” I spoke up after minutes of walking in silence with the curly haired boy.

“Even though you’re with me? I could protect you if some guy with a chainsaw jumped out of a bush right now,” he stated proudly, and I felt my heart melt at his somewhat odd choice of words.

I let out a short laugh and said, “If I mentioned you, that’d most likely make things worse. I can almost guarantee that he’ll get the wrong impression.”

“So he’d get mad at you for walking in the dark with a friend but not for you going to a house party?” he ran his hand through his curls as he looked at me with raised brows.

“What makes you think I told him about the party?”

When he stopped walking, I turned my body to face him as I walked backwards. “Something tells me you’re not the type to hide things from your parents,” he chuckled while giving me a weird look. I chose not to acknowledge what he said as I turned back around. He jogged a little to catch up me and pointed towards a playground, “Let’s go there.”

I let out a cooing noise and excitedly beamed, “I haven’t been to a playground in years.”

“You know there’s one at the park you have practice at, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah, but playing on a playground in the daytime, with kids around, is really awkward. I’ve learned that from experience. I swear, this one boy looked at me like I was an idiot.”

He let out a laugh, “Well nobody’s here, so there won’t be kids to judge you.”

“Well there’s you,” I looked anywhere but him as I spoke nonchalantly and tried to hide my smile between my teeth. I heard him stop in his tracks again, but I didn’t bother to look over at him. Instead, I just ran straight towards the swings.

The park was pretty dark, the only source of lights being from the tall metal poles in the parking lot beside it which reflected onto the play set in a dim fluorescent color. At least it was enough to see what we were doing, and to admire Harry’s beautiful features as he joined me on the swings.

“I probably shouldn’t swing in this dress,” I giggled.

“I’m good with it if you are,” the smug look he gave me had me rolling my eyes.

“Just don’t look up the skirt, and you shall remain uninjured.”

He bit down on his plump bottom lip and released it to say, “Stop being so abusive.”

“If you didn’t like it, you wouldn’t be hanging out with me right now, would you?” I smirked and began swinging.

“True,” he grinned.

---

Harry and I had stayed at the park until the parking lot lights shut off, and we had to use our phones as flashlights to get back to Leah’s house. When I told him I had to leave, he only shrugged and said there was no way he was staying either. Something tells me he knew I didn’t really have to leave.

When I climbed into bed that night, I thought about how Tate disappeared on me at the party. I couldn’t really be mad at him. In fact, I didn’t exactly blame him for not wanting to stick with me. I should’ve expected it since it happens all the time, so I’d be an idiot to be pissed at him about it. I’m glad he even remembered inviting me, and hung out with me for the time being.

But the real reason I had fallen asleep with a smile on my face that night would have to be because of a certain green-eyed boy. Harry really did save my night from being an even crappier one, and I really have to thank him for that.

Notes

Yay! I finally updated! this chapter is 24 pages and over 8000 words, so I hope you liked that I put a lot of extra work into it.

Please vote and subscribe if you haven't already. It'd mean the world to me if you did. Also, be sure to leave me a comment down below. Love you guys <3

Questions of the chapter:
How do you feel about the whole Tate ditching Devon thing? Is she wrong for not getting mad at him?