Cabin Three // h.s. au

t w e n t y

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Getting Wet.
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t w e n t y

The sun couldn't fall at a slower speed, as I waited for the clock to hit eleven.

After dinner, I spotted Harry behind a window where we left our trays. He wore a large, white apron, yellow gloves, and a neon orange hair net. I slowly put my tray on the spot assigned for, and looked behind me to make sure no one was waiting on me. I always brought my tray up early; I hated waiting in line to throw away garbage. He smiled at me, holding the hose and rising down the shards of plastic.

"You know," I leaned in, "I never knew a lunch lady could be so hot."

"I'm a lunch man," he muttered, looking impressively down at me as he leaned closer as well. "Are you excited about tonight?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "Sounds like a bore," I teased, smirking."

"Remember what I said about wearing a swimsuit." He leaned back up, and picked up my periwinkle trey, beginning to spray it off. "You might get a little," he paused, looking at me, but continuing to spray, "wet."

He winked, swiftly turning the hose to my body, completely drenching my top. My jaw fell and I glared at him as I watched my skin slowly appear as the white material stuck to my stomach.

"Ah, a great day to wear a black bra, babe," he laughed.

"You are such a jerk." He only giggled in response, eyes stuck to my body.

"Harry Edward Styles!" A voice roared, and I looked over to see David stalking towards us. We were both wide eyed and caught off guard, so I quickly turned around and whispered,

"Act like you're mad at me but go along with what I do."

"What?"

"He'll think you dumped me!"

"What is going on here?" David fumed, directing his attention toward Harry. I glared at my feet, sucking in my cheeks and tightening my jaw.

"Nothing, sir," Harry gritted. His nostrils were flared, his jaw was clenched, his left eye was pinched harder than the other, though you had to really focus on his face to notice it. He forcefully pursed his lips and glared down at me.

He actually looked pissed off. I was turned on.

David looked at me for an answer and I hesitantly nodded with an angry expression. I crossed my arms as drops of water continued to fall from my saturated shirt. At this point, all eyes in the mess hall were staring at the situation playing out between the angry stepfather, the curly haired lunch lady, and the third place wet t-shirt contestant.

"Nothing?" David quizzed, seeming to notice my apprehensiveness.

"Yeah," said Harry. "My hand slipped." He said, clenching his jaw.

You'd really believe that we weren't happy with each other; two liars, together at last.

David glared at Harry. The knowledge of whether he bought it or not was not obtainable. "Finish the dishes," he directed at Harry. "And please change shirts. I'm terribly sorry for my stepson's behaviour." He then walked away and I sighed in relief.

"See you tonight," he smirked, and dropped his left eyelid in a wink.

***

I was far too anxious for the clock to strike eleven. I wanted to be at the dock a little bit late however, so that I didn't look desperate. It would leave him on his toes, I thought. Plus, I was usually late for everything. I'd never been the most punctual. On the dot of eleven, I sneaked out of my bed, taking my pajamas and slipping a bikini top (that I had stolen from Stevie, because I didn't own one) and (my own) swim bottoms. I almost switched back into my own bathing suit when I saw thy my chest was practically spilling from the top of the white fabric. It was at this time that I realized that Stevie really did have smaller boobs than me. However, I adjusted it as well as I could and slipped a large comfy shirt on over me and pulled shorts over my legs, sliding on flip flops and rushing out of the cabin after spitting out the fourth mint I'd ate.