<Char’s POV>
“Shit!” I cursed as I nearly twist my ankle on a crumple in the carpet, my balance severely thrown off by the one little misstep. Thoughts swim through my head at a slow pace and words spout out of my mouth without confirmation from my brain, like some convoluted version of slow motion where one person gets to move along in real time. I know I am supposed to be moving away from Harry, but I don’t really want to. He said something…something…oh right.
He acted like condescending douche.
Well that interaction went about as well as I expected, considering I’d never had alcohol before…and tonight I probably had more than any girl of my stature should have had. Well I’m actually not sure HOW much I’d had, I just noticed Trin looking a tad dubious as I kept going. You know, drinking. She didn’t stop me though, which I guess is what counts. Then again, she doesn’t really know me. In fact, I don’t really know her. Or where she is. She kinda ditched me with Harry.
What a bitch.
Okay okay okay. Charlotte, think clearly. So you now have no ride home, no idea where any of your friends are, or any idea of how drunk you are. Plan of action: don’t panic, it’s like that one Lady Gaga song “Just Dance” or whatever…Okay really? Now you’re consulting pop songs for your survival guide to be being hopelessly stranded at a party? Lovely.
Oh my god I must be really out of it, I can’t even form a coherent thought sequence. I shake my head, trying to clear it, and then decide to head towards the bathroom. I can splash some water on my face and take some time to calm down. Thinking of it, drinking water would probably be a good idea too.
I’m already beginning to feel a bit better and less flustered when I, quite literally, run into a familiar body. I stumble, but look up as an arm steadies me.
“Ben?” I exclaim, excited to finally see someone I know, even if I’m sure there’s some reason for the strange feeling of annoyance that flickers through me at the sight of his face. I can’t seem to place the feeling. I’m beginning to think drinking impairs my memory now, rather than later. Or maybe it will impair both, who knows.
“Char!” a smile spreads across his face, and he looks around him almost furtively. “I’ve been looking for you since I was dancing with An—I mean since I got here!” His lying skills weren’t the greatest, even in my slightly fuzzy mental state I could still see through that. However, I thought I’d let it slide on the account I really needed a ride home.
“Oh cool, uh, Ben I have something important to ask, I mean not important, but I need, I mean, or what I’d meant,” I pause to take a breath, and rearrange the words that are stumbling over each other in my mouth, “Could I have a ride home?” Ben looks at me strangely and then proceeds to ask a question I find quite hypocritical of him.
“Have you been drinking Char?”
“Um, maybe?” I squeak, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“Oh. I thought you didn’t drink?” he questions, eyebrows pinched together in thought.
“I thought I didn’t either.” I giggle, and then frown. I’m not a giggler—or at least not an out of context giggler.
“You’re cuter. You know, when you’re drunk.” It takes me a second to process his words, and even then I don’t think I feel insulted until later.
“Um, thanks?” I wonder why I suddenly feel uncomfortable, and the sickened annoyance returns to me when I notice the proximity of his face to mine.
“I mean it.” He grins, and suddenly I’m not annoyed, I’m a bit scared.
“Um, Ben I think, I might actually it’s okay if I think I mean,” I’m stumbling over my words again, and Ben merely looks amused, “I need to go?”
YOU ARE READING
Smart. (A Marcel / Harry Styles FanFiction)
FanfictionI've never been one for Stupid Teen Drama, but then again, who is? Oh wait, this is high school.
