Coastal [h.s]

three

FRESHMAN YEAR//MARCH

~HARRY~

Country clubs were nothing like High School Musical 2. Instead of all the dancing and singing and sports that flood that movie, the reality is just lots and lots of old rich people who never get tired of hearing the sound of their own voices.

The old man who had been droning on and on about the stock market in the seat next to me clearly wasn't picking up on my hints that I was not interested in the big world of finances. He had been talking for going on 20 minutes and I hadn't said more than one-syllable words to him the entire time, not even attempting to show interest with some head nods.

I pushed the remainder of the dry chicken around my plate thinking about all the things I still needed to get done today, the things I could be doing if I wasn't at that god-forsaken luncheon. Jaxon really owed me big for that one.

Growing up with my parents meant basically living at that stupid club but the biggest joy of turning 18 was no longer having to attend all those posh events. About a week prior when Jaxon had asked me to come with him to the annual club luncheon, which had the sole purpose of raising money to host extravagant events over the summer, my instinct was to immediately decline. Keeping my distance from that place had been the highlight of my adulthood up to that point. But when Jaxon started to beg, I remembered how miserable those things were alone, or worse with just your parents, and I knew I couldn't subject him to that if there was another option. Even if I hadn't been back to the club in the last year it was just one lunch and he had promised me my parents were out of the country and wouldn't be in attendance.

"If you follow the trajectory you'll see that it really is a solid investment in the long run and you just need-" suddenly Jaxon pulled out the chair next to me clearing his throat and stretching his arm in front of me offering his hand to the man on my left, "Hope I'm not interrupting, Mr. Frederickson" He had that fake and put-together smile that was practically a part of the dress code of that place plastered on his face. The man looked between the two of us in an unimpressed way that I would have been scolded for receiving a few years before.

Jaxon made the required small talk with him about the food and the weather, but only for a moment before he started to stand from his chair again, "Well Harry and I actually have some official club business to get to but it was great seeing you sir, enjoy those California rays this weekend". His hand slapped the top of my back in between my shoulder blades and that was my signal to stand from my seat nodding at the old man before following Jaxon to the hallway outside of the dining room.

"You kinda looked like you were gonna stab yourself with that fork dude. Figured I'd swoop in and deter any bloodshed on those fancy white table cloths. My mom would never let me hear the end of it, she fucking loves those tablecloths." I let out a laugh as we walked down the hall. "Yeah, thanks. That guy would not shut up. I stopped listening after the first time the word 'stock' left his mouth but I think that was half an hour ago," he shook his head-turning down another hallway and rummaged in his pocket for something.