Not A Temporary Love | Finley & Harlyn #1

Chapter 10

Harlyn

"I'm not really a party person, El," I say as we wander up the front walk to the flat where the party in question is happening. The windows are covered, but there are silhouettes of people dancing and music washes over us when the door opens.

"But you like to dance," she reminds me, raising her voice to be heard. "Besides, I got some...intel that your study buddy was going to be here tonight."

"El..." I groan. Not this again. I haven't really had the chance to tell her I don't like Francesca anymore. That's a lie. I have. I just know she's going to ask if there's someone else. And when I say no, she's going to try to set me up. I guess I don't know which is worse. "Is that why you brought me along? Seriously? How would you even know that?"

She throws a grin over her shoulder at me. "I have my ways, babes."

"Don't I know it," I mutter.

She can't hear me. No one can. The music blasting from somewhere is drowning out all other noises. I've already lost Elly, and I peer over everyone's heads to try and find her. But there's too much bobbing, weaving, and movement. She's probably already made it to the next room. I've come to a few parties with Elly since we started Uni, but I still feel slightly out of place, like I'm too young or not allowed. She's right. I do like to dance, but the party/club scene has never been my favorite thing.

"Harlyn?" someone blurts in my ear. I spin around to find Francesca. Of course. She looks at me, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi," I greet, raising my voice to be heard. "I could ask you the same question."

She smiles. That smile. That's what caught my eye, the first time we met as a study group after a particularly grueling lecture. It's just as brilliant. But it doesn't have the same effect on my stomach as it once did. And I'm sure it has something to do with a certain American who keeps texting me.

"I'm watching my sister," she nods to a carbon copy of her a few groups over, dancing like her life depends on it. "Mum wants her back in one piece. It's her first Uni party."

I raise my eyebrows. "A rite of passage."

"Yeah, well..." She sips from a blue plastic cup. "I said I'd bring her so she wouldn't have to go through another rite of passage - calling Mum to come pick her up when she's too drunk to walk home."

I laugh. "That's nice of you. That's a rite of passage I wish I could've avoided. My Mum's cool, but she didn't look too fondly on me vomiting all over her new car floor mats."

It's Francesca's turn to laugh. "I'm not surprised." She sips again, and I eye the cup. "Oh, don't worry. This is just water. Mum killing me for drunkenly driving her precious princess home is a right of passage I never want to experience."

"Right. I didn't...mean to insinuate," I stutter. She waves a hand at me.

"Don't worry about it." She looks behind me. "Did I see you come in with Ellyanna Jacks?"

"Yeah," I answer, a little surprised, panicking that Francesca went to school with Elly and me and I somehow missed her. "Yeah, how do you know Elly?"

"My best friend is a first year at University of Kent. She lives in Ellyanna's hall."

I nod. "Ah. That makes sense." That's how Elly knew Francesca was going to be here. I bet Francesca's friend is here somewhere, too. "I'm sure you've heard a lot about Elly then."

She smiles over the rim of her cup. "I have. But I also know that Polly can exaggerate. I'm sure there's more to her than I know."

I agree and tell her I should probably find Elly. Sliding through the bodies crammed into the living room and kitchen is hard. But then Elly materializes next to me, shoves a cup into my hands, and asks me to dance. I guess that's what we came here to do, so I bounce along with her.