Syndicates //

xxxiii

Dinner turned into quite the enjoyable evening. Liam opened up the bar and began mixing up drinks for everyone. Even Zayn drank without anybody's peer pressure. It actually took us aback when he helped himself to a shot of tequila that Liam left out for any of us to help ourselves to. We weren't his parents. We weren't going to stop
him.

I admitted to myself that I was actually willing to try another drink. I bravely asked Liam for one of his special margaritas. He was happy to make one for me, also at the request of less alcohol than usual.

I concluded that the element of surprise is what spoiled my last drink. It still sucked. I figured I'd suck it up and get used to it.

Once everybody had their drinks, they, as boys do, huddled around the TV to watch the rest of the game. I found the open seat next to Harry. "I'm keeping it light tonight, I promise," I lowly say in his ear, over the rumbling announcer on TV.

"Good. It's my turn to have a little fun," he downs what little is left of his drink. "Maybe you're the one keeping an eye on me this time."

"This oughta be fun," I smirk.

He plays into my own words, "hope you've been practicing your dance skills."

Now I'm actually scared he's gonna get back at me for the nightclub incident, whether that's intentional or not. It was such a great night, up to the whole thugs and blackout fiasco. However, there isn't a swarm of people to hide us and our feelings from the rest of the group.

I think he sensed my nervousness and more honestly said, "I'm just teasing you, ya know."

"I know," I smile wide to make my eyes squint. It catches the eye of Louis across the couch, beer in hand. His eyes squint too, observing us. He may be onto us. It's always the quietest ones that figure out the most.

I try to relax and enjoy the game and the company, but I ended up being extremely paranoid about Louis. Every time I'd glance over, his eyes were divert from us... or at least me. Maybe Harry is right. We've gotten to comfortable and they're starting to catch on. Just to be safe, I scoot a little bit away from Harry and closer to the edge of the couch. His head turns in my direction and eyes the gap between us. It's subtle, but I noticed. I cared.

I got up a while later to get some ice in a cup in the kitchen. It wasn't long before a shadow appeared in the doorway and approached me.

"Alright, Mia," Louis claps his hand. "You've gotta tell me." I worryingly look up at him. My suspicions were right. I don't know how to weasel my way out of this. He totally knows. "Is this really only your second time drinking?"

A sigh of relief swells into a little laugh, "Uh... Yeah. First time was the nightclub." Thank goodness I was just being paranoid.

"You seemed to have done really well for a first-timer. I mean, you totally blacked out, but you had quite a few drinks and still held on for most of the night," Louis praises me.

"I should've been a lot smarter, though," I frown. "I should've been there, consciously, when those guys came out. I could've helped you guys. I'm lucky I didn't slow you down too much."

"You were about as useful as I was. I was at the poker table all night. I had no idea what was going on until Harry came and got me." He pauses, then adds on, "Well hang in there, Mia. It's good to talk to you."

"Last drink for today," I tell him. "Maybe a shot or two if we win."

"0-7," Louis calls from the entryway into the living room, "could be anybody's game."

•••

One margarita and two shots. Better than last time.

I felt it not too long after the game had ended with a victory. Everybody was loud, but loud as if they were in another room or I had earbuds in with no music playing. The couch felt like a cloud and I saw faint static on the walls dancing in spirals.

The boys' were celebrating and still having another round of drinks. They were especially funny to watch. I was definitely done for the night. I was probably just about peak tipsy.

"Let's get matching jerseys," Harry suggests, eyes wide, eyebrows raised,and absolutely astonished at his own idea. We all erupt in cheers and pull out our phones.

"Which player are you guys gonna get? Should we match?" Liam takes the purchase very seriously.

"How much more is it for customs?" I ask, feeling a frivolous purchase in my drunken state.

"Can't be that much," Louis shrugs.

"It pays for itself," Harry persuades, "We're gonna wear this all the time. And they're totally going to the super bowl."

"Let's do it!" I exclaim.

We picked out our jerseys out but waited to press order at the same time. At our unison counting of three, we pressed order and then $170 suddenly vanished from our bank accounts... not including shipping.

The win for our football team was just the start of a fun-filled night. Music filled the house and we just enjoyed ourselves. I liked it more than the nightclub, although that was a fun environment, because it was just the people that I felt comfortable with.

We were together and also in our own worlds at the same time. Conversations scattered and everyone seemed to float in and out of each of them. The cycle played and eventually I found myself and Harry within our own dialogue.

"Having a good time?" He smiles, cheeks flushed from the drinks.

I nod and smile, "better than last time."

"Same here."

T