How to Be Stylish

Chapter One

Plan in Action; Phase One

 Kelsey Corter

                    Mia and I had just made it to the club. It wasn't our place to hang out, by a long shot. The line was long, girls in skimpy outfits as far as the eye could see, and plenty of perverts to leer at them from afar. When we finally got in, the smell of alcohol and sweat invaded my nostrils immediately, and I had to suppress the urge to gauge. In the far left corner, occupying most of the space of the room, was a large dance floor, bodies already packed tightly together. I subconsciously pulled down my shorts when I saw the other girls, who  walked around freely with both butt cheeks hanging out. To the right, a full bar was set up, colorful drinks in a disordered array along the walls. The DJ booth was set up to the very front of us, a cage surrounding the top, where girls grinded to the beat. 

                    I turned to look at my best friend, who's expression matched mine. We had never stepped foot into a club before. Unless you count the Spanish Club at our old high school. We were forced to move closer to the dance floor by a large crowd of people who just entered. I grabbed Mia's hand, pulling her over to the bar. We luckily found seating, and waiting for the bartender to get our order. I subconsciously twirled a piece of my somewhat long blond hair. Mia had spent a good fifteen minutes curling it to perfection, so now it hit just above my waist. My blue, grey eyes peered over at Mia, watching her try and get the bartender's attention. Her slick, midnight black hair was cute short, just below her shoulders in jagged layers. Her dark brown, almost black eyes, were narrowed in anger. I could see why. The bartender had walked past us to the sluttier girls; and this wasn't the first time.

                    Taking things into my own hands, I grabbed his arm when he walked past us again, a small frown on my face.  "Excuse me, but we would like something to drink." I told him hotly.

                    I could see him resist the urge to roll his eyes at me, and glanced at me in a way that said he was annoyed. But, he needed money, and I was willing to give it to him for a couple of drinks. 

                    "One Raspberry Vodka and a Coke." 

                    He headed off to the other side of the bar, and I swiveled around in my chair, leaning my arms back against the bar to watch the dancers. Now, even though I would never step foot in a club, unless for the reason I was in here now, I knew I could dance. No, I wasn't being cocky. I had taken dance for fifteen years of my whole life. So, since I was three. Mia was in my dance class. That's how we had become the two best friends that decided to move into an apartment together and go to the same college. Now, it was the summer before our sophomore year. I still danced in a local studio, working on becoming professional. 

                    "Here ya go." The guy said as he slide the glasses towards both of us. 

                    I threw a five down, and he grabbed it greedily. Figures, he would be a sleazeball like most of the people in this place. Well, except for two boys. Who had yet to show up, and I was getting antsy. Boys kept walking past, leering at both of us, and it was making me uncomfortable. I kept tugging on my clothing, pulling my shirt up and my shorts down. Finally, a commotion was heard, and both Mia's and I's heads whipped toward the entrance. Two very large and intimidating bouncers walked in, followed by two boys. I sucked in a breath when I caught sight of a mop of curls. Next came sight of a large quiff, and I felt my heart flutter like the butterflies that had invaded my stomach.

                    I felt someone grab my hand, and I turned to find Mia basically hyper venilating next to me. I chuckled lightly and brushed my hand across hers in an attempt to calm her down. When it came to Zayn Malik, you did not screw around with her about him. That was forbidden territory.