Winding Paths

Chapter 2

T O B I A S

Watching the club come alive with the lights and rhythmic music, I sit by the bar, my beer bottle in my hand. London was certainly different than Chicago and the change of scenery is very refreshing. There is this hint of underlying guilt in the pit of my stomach for ditching Zeke and coming to London instead, but as the beer runs down my throat, I block out all thoughts of my best friend, downing the rest of it and asking for a glass of orange juice.

It probably isn't very wise to get a hangover when I will no doubt have jet lag.

Standing from the stool, I hold the glass of juice in my hand, deciding to sit at a table since the DJ is right next to the bar. Just like any other nightclub, people dance closely together, their bodies against the other's. Weaving through the crowd, a drunk guy loses his balance, nudging me harshly.

He mumbles a string of apologies, walking off straight after towards the exit. When I look back at my glass, I swear, my eyes travelling to the laughing girl who had my orange juice over her shirt. "I'm so sorry." I apologise, staring at her confusedly when she continues to laugh.

"I'm getting paid £10 tomorrow, thank you." She smiles widely, her British accent clear.

She's different - any girl I know would probably give me the biggest evil eye and swear at me. "You're getting paid 10 dollars because I spilled orange juice on you, is this a British thing?" I look at her incredulously, my thick eyebrows creased.

Finally, she meets my gaze, shrugging. "It may be a Tris thing, but word of advice, no one says dollars here, you have a very nice accent."

My lips twitch into a smile, a blush covering my cheeks, which she thankfully can't see because of the lighting. "Thank you, I like your accent too," I respond, walking with her to a table. "Are you sure you don't want to go home? Your shirt is going to start sticking to you."

"I probably should, but my ride isn't going to come back until eleven and it's currently nine o'clock." She replies, chuckling. "I should've brought my phone."

"Oh shit, I feel really bad now," I confess, frowning, "you have to stay in the same clothes for two hours." Taking off my jacket and then flannel, I slip my jacket back on, passing her the flannel. "It probably won't be much use to you, but it'll cover the stain."

She laughs and takes her hair from its band. "I feel sorry for you, I robbed you of your drink. I'm just going to put it on."

Genuinely chuckling, I smile warmly. "It's better if I don't drink anything for the rest of the night. I need the restroom and my hotel is a 10 minute walk," I imputed, glancing at my wristwatch. "I'd rather hold it than use public bathrooms, in Chicago and here."

She slips her shirt off and I avert my eyes, wanting to respect her privacy. She tucks her wet shirt in her pocket after she's dressed in my flannel, her hands falling to her lap when she buttons it up to the top.  "How long have you been in London?" 

"9 hours."

"Oh, so you're on holiday?" she responds, taking a few tissues and wiping at her hands with discomfort. I wince, knowing it's all my fault. 

I nod to her question, creasing my eyebrows. Honestly, I am confused because she hasn't shown any sign of anger towards me or even annoyance. She sighs audibly, placing her chin in the palm of her hand. "Do you have your phone on you?"

I hum in lieu of a verbal response, pulling my phone from my pocket. Along with it, a SIM falls onto the table. "Can you help me put this in? If you know your friend's number off by heart, you can call her."

Taking something from her jacket pocket, she pops the tray open and places the small card in. "I'm getting the vibe that you're still feeling guilty." She smiles innocently, turning it to me to unlock it. Once I press in my pin in, her thumbs tap on the screen as she directs her blue-grey eyes to the bar.

Not paying attention to her conversation, I drum on the table with my fingertips and smile when she passes my phone back. "I'm going to get a drink, do you want me to get you one?" she stands up from her seat, tucking a strand of her ashy blonde hair behind her ear. 

"Um, can I get a lemonade?" I ask, reaching for my wallet before she shook hear head.

"It's on me."

***

I laugh as we both dance on the dance floor, Tris smiling up at me. I asked her to dance an hour ago and now, she is telling me about her experiences with airplanes, which isn't pleasant. Placing my hands on her waist, the music goes slower, making me chuckle. Only a couple hours of being in London and here I am dancing with a girl who's talking about flights. I admit, my experiences weren't pleasant as well.

"Do you know what I noticed?" she changes the subjects after noticing I'm laughing at her expense, her arms resting on my shoulders. "I've been dancing with you for an hour and I still don't know your name. You know mine."

"Tobias."

"Tobias," she repeats, smiling, "that's a very nice name."

"Yours is the first I've heard of; is it a nickname?"

Her cheeks blush a soft red, Tris shaking her head. "Yeah —  it's short for Beatrice." Her gaze flickers to mine as she rolls her lips into her mouth.

"Tris suits you, I can't see you as a Beatrice."

Holding her hand, I twirl her around, pulling her to me softly as the music begins to speed up, more people starting to fill the floor. "How come you're getting £10, I'm still wondering."

She laughs, her blue-grey eyes filled with amusement. "Normally when my friends and I spend a night out, there's always someone who gets a drink spilled on them, that someone is me and I made it into a bet, that if it happens again tonight, they have to pay me £10."

I nod, not really understanding. "So you have a lot of bad luck?"

"Probably, but, I'm just going to do what Ashley in Just My Luck did and kiss someone to pass it on to them." She jokes, winking playfully.

I chortle, tilting my head back slightly. "So, you were kissed by someone who had bad luck?"

"I'm guessing it was my ex-boyfriend —  truthfully though, I'm just really clumsy."

My body is pressed against hers, her fruity perfume encasing me and blocking out all the smells of alcohol and sweaty bodies. "This time, I was the one who dropped my drink on you."

She rolls her eyes lightheartedly. "And you gave me your shirt," her facial expression goes blank as the guilty expression remains on my face. "if you're that guilty, you can just make it up to me."

"I'd take you out but I don't know any good places here."

"How about we meet here whenever you're free and I can show you around London? I grew up here, so I know all  the good places."

Passing her my phone, I watch her put her number in, giving it back to me with a smile. "I'd like that a lot.

Hearing a call of her name when the music quietens down, she turns around, waving. "That's my friend so I'll see you whenever?"

"Yeah, I'll call you." A small, soft smile adorns my face, Tris smiling up at me.

"I'd like that."

***

I changed my username so it's no longer sleepingsxrens :) it's now polaroidstilinski. Hope you liked the chapter :D