What Makes You Beautiful

That's Not Me Anymore

Flynn choked on his drink when he saw her looking at him. As soon as she realised he had noticed her, she turned and walked towards the mini bar in the corner.

Flynn nodded at the man he was talking, and with a polite nod, he warded him off and ambled towards her.

He took the empty high stool beside Rachel and ordered a whiskey.

Just when Rachel was trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Sharon and Henry had their personal bar and bartender, she froze in her seat, realising who it was beside her.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?" he asked. Rachel pretended not to hear. She swirled her drink and bit onto the olive on the toothpick.

"Rachel?" he inclined his head to the side trying to lock eyes with her.

"What do you want?" she lashed out at him, when she realised that he wouldn't be letting her off easy.

He laughed. "We meet after seven years and that's how you greet me? Ouch.that hurts."

"The last time I remember talking with you, you were the one breaking up with me right before college was about to start, and I was too stumped to even speak because you gave me no reason for the break up. So if you expect a hug, then you are just asking for too much."

"A smile would have sufficed," he said, observing her expression. She still had the most incredible look in her brown eyes when she was angry. Her nostrils flared as she glared at him, and somehow he found that really attractive.

She turned her attention to her drink, and ignored his presence completely. She never thought that seeing him after such a long time would bring back those memories she had learned to bury. She was not a teenager anymore, then why was she reacting so much? She should forget what happened in the past, because she was now mature and reasonable and maybe what she and Flynn had before was nothing but a stupid infatuation.

But the hurt would never go away.

Even then, she clearly remembered that day.

April 29, seven years ago

11.05 a.m.

Dorothy, her older sister, and Julian, her husband, had gone outside to the hospital for a check up. Dorothy was three months pregnant. Julian and she were expecting their first baby and all three of them were ecstatic. Since their mother died six months ago, Rachel had come to live with Julian and Dorothy, while her father had taken to alcohols and lost himself.

Outside, it rained. Every now and then, there were flashes of lightning and Rachel gasped every time it thundered. She was not a fan of thunderstorms. There was a knock on the door, and she ran to open the door. It wouldn't be Dorothy and Julian because they had left just a few minutes ago.

When she opened the door, she smiled. Flynn was completely soaked. His grey t-shirt clung to his well built body, and his jeans appeared soggy. His Converse All Star was dripping water and mud all over the front porch.

"You are a sight!" she chuckled, not letting him in, but just staring at him with humour in her eyes.

"Rachel.can we talk?" he asked.

"You came over to talk?" she asked. She let out a small laughter. "Since when do we just 'talk' Flynn Carter?"

She stepped closer to him, and grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside the house.

"Do you know what you need?" she said. "A towel. I'll go get one for you. And then.we can talk." She laughed again, pressing her palm on his chest and pushing him down onto the armchair.