My short daze was interrupted as I heard the bar tender's voice. "Here's your vodka."

"Thanks."

I hesitated to take a sip, but I eventually did.

Gross! What the fuck did I just order. I shoud've went with tea instead. Ugh.

I quickly wiped my mouth, the taste of the vodka still lingering on my tongue. "Fucking gross." I cussed under my breath.


"Aren't you too young to be drinking?" A deep, raspy voice is heard from beside me.

I jolted upwards as I was taken aback .

I turned to my side and my eyes widened as I realized it was the curly haired man I had been ogling not too long ago. Why was he here? Oh wait, no. He's just ordering a drink, stupid.

"No." I barely whispered. His presence was a bit intimidating as he looked older than me.

"You don't say? You look too young." He places his index finger on his chin.

God. Why do people always think I'm still a little girl?

"I'm going to be 18 in 2 weeks." I shot at him. "I'm legit."

"Oh?" He chuckles. He was clearly amused by my respond. "Harry." He smiles, and there I saw his dimples. Great. He has dimples.

"Bree." I bite my lip.

"So Bree, aren't you going to finish your drink?" He asks, still smiling.

Oh. I haven't finished my vodka yet and it was not even half empty. I should finish it. I didn't want him to think of me as "too young".


I forced myself to gulp from my cup. It was still gross, but it was better the second time around.

He laughed, and I had a feeling he knew I wasn't used to this.

"So.." He urges himself a bit closer. His cologne, overwhelming my senses. I felt my cheeks flush. Don't, Bree. Control yourself. "..what's a young girl like you doing here?" He smirks.

I frowned as he emphasized the words "young girl". Was he trying to piss me off? Well, it's definitely working.

"Well.." I start off. I wasn't sure if I would tell him my situation. He was a complete stranger to me, after all.

"Well what?" He asks, his head tilting.

I was quiet for a while as I tried to find the words.

"You know.." He interrupts.

"Mm?"

"I see.." He nods.

"See what?" I asked. Had he noticed the cuts on my wrist?

"Nothing, hey. How about we dance?" He stands up and offers his hand like a gentleman.

"I don't dance." I admit.

"Neither do I. Let's dance anyway." He insists. "Please?" He smiles, his dimples popping out. He made it sound like an order, but at the same time, he pleaded like a gentleman. I was intimidated, yet flattered by his offer (slash order.) It was another first for me.

Eventually, I gave in to his offer.

He smiled, and guided towards the dance floor. People started looking at us as we made our way. Or maybe it was just Harry. Or maybe it was the clothes that I was wearing. I was just in my sweats and converse after all.


We were at the center of the dance floor. Harry started to dance. I stood still.

"Aren't you going to join me?" He laughed.

"Wow. You were right. You can't dance." I laughed as I observe him make awkward movements. This is such a public embarrassment.

"You're so awkward." I scoffed.

"Come dance with me." He insists.

"No. Why would I?"

"So we'll be awkward together?" He chuckles a deep laugh.

So he had a good sense of humor too. Oh okay.

Our laughter was silenced as someone called Harry.

"Hey, man."

"Jack."

"Let's talk." His voice sounded urgent. "And who might this little stranger be?" He said as he notices me.

"She's Bree." Harry smiled at me.



"And she's not going to be a stranger any longer."