Not His Girl

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Once again, another weird prologue thingy... Also, there are poarts where the narrative might seem a little rambly or silly, but that is because I'm writing in first person and the main character is somewhat drunk at one point...

Excuse the mistakes

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In this world, there are many types of drunk people.

There are the people who ride the emotional roller coaster when they're drunk, and there are people who just think every single thing is the most hilarious joke they've ever heard. In addition to the silly drunks and emotional drunks, there are the tired drunks, who just pass out in a corner after a few drinks.

My favorite kind of drunks are the ones who think they are the greatest dancers in the world. After a couple of drinks, this class of drunks likes to show off their moves. They think they're the next Usher or Pussycat Doll, but in reality, they're usually humping a chair or look like they're having a seizure.

These drunks, and many other types, were in full force at my Aunt Jenna's wedding reception.

For the past couple of days, I'd been carted from one venue to the next, since I was in the bridal party and had to be present at every event, like the rehearsal dinner, the bachelorette party, and more. My body, which had been shoved into the bridesmaid's dress from hell, was about ready to give out.

I'd tried telling my aunt that this kind of stress was really bad for a seventeen-year-old, but of course, I was family, and family had to participate.

"Harper!"       

My mom wove through the crowd of people on the dance floor, and she plopped down in the vacant chair next to me. "Hey Mom," I said, glancing over at her. When I saw her slightly scared expression, I frowned. "What's wrong?" I asked, and she groaned.

"Your father," my mom said, closing her eyes, "Has discovered that the bar doesn't have a drink limit."

I laughed out loud and grinned. My dad was by no means an alcoholic, but on special occasions, he would get drunk to the point of doing insane things. At a family reunion a couple of years ago, my dad had actually stripped to his underwear with his brothers, who were equally as drunk, and they took off streaking down the street.

To say my mom had been embarrassed would be an understatement.

"Nice speech by the way," I said, remembering the touching toast my mom had given, since she was Aunt Jenna's big sister and maid of honor. "Avoiding the slutty college years was probably a good choice."

"That's what I thought," my mom replied, chuckling. Aunt Jenna hadn't exactly been a saint in high school and through college, but when she'd met Doug, her new husband, Aunt Jenna had cleaned up her act. After two years, they were married, and I was really happy for them.

Plus, her wedding gave me an excuse to miss a week of school, since I lived in upstate New York, and Aunt Jenna's wedding was in Las Vegas.

As I pulled took a sip of champagne, which my mom thought was sparkling apple cider, I caught sight of my dad on the dance floor. "Um, Mom," I said, looking over at her.

"Yeah?" she replied, and I pointed to my dad, who looked like he was searching for someone. "Shit," my mom whispered, and she jumped to her feet. "Your dad's been trying to make me dance all night, and by dance, I mean either dry hump or do the Macarena in front of a large crowd."