Speed ➢ harry styles

Ch. 18 ~ Drunken Slurs

It was nearly 1 AM and the party was still in full swing. Outside, the night was chilly and the moon was full.

I walked into the kitchen to get another drink. Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around to see Anella smiling up at me.

"I'm back!" She beamed. "Would you look at that?" She mentioned holding out her empty glass. "I'm all out of Bay Breeze." 

"So am I. Well this is a problem. We've got to do something about it."

"We do don't we?" She walked over to the fridge again and pulled out some orange juice. "I may not have too much knowledge of the numerous different cocktail concoctions possible but I can make one drink." She took the vodka and the orange juice and mixed them together. 

"Screwdrivers?" I grinned as she handed me a glass.

"Mhm." She clinked her glass with mine.

I sloshed my drink around. "Hey Anella?"

"Yeah?"

"Why doesn't Arnie like me?"

"What makes you think he doesn't like you?"

"I haven't done anything to him and I've just met him today for the first time but he just seems so bitter towards me. I have no idea why and it's really bugging me."

"Is he being jealous again?" Anella muttered to herself.

"Jealous? Of me? Why would he be jealous?"

Anella sighed. "Ugh, he always does this. If I bring any of my guy friends that he doesn't know over or I'm with any other guy he gets jealous. We're not even dating anymore, I wish he'd just chill."

We're not even dating anymore? I couldn't believe Anella would date someone like him. How low were her standards?

Jesus Christ, now I was the one being jealous and judgmental.

Anella looked up at me and snapped her fingers in my face. "Hey? You good? Don't worry about Arnie not liking you, he'll get over it sooner or later. Or not. He is pretty stubborn."

"No it's okay, it's just a bit of jealousy. We all get jealous sometimes."

With the whole Arnie being rude ordeal being cleared up, Anella and I proceeded to drink screwdriver after screwdriver. Sure enough the highly alcoholic beverage's intoxicating effects kicked in, and before we knew it we were both very drunk.

Anella held her fourth glassful. I took it away. "H-h-h-eeeey, give it back." She whined.

"No, you're already really really really drunk."

"No I'm not I'm fuckin' sober I'm so sober." She protested. 

"No you're not. C'mere." I pulled her a bit closer to me and rested my head on her shoulder. "I'm gonna sl-sl-sleep right here against the fabric of your soft sweater."

She gingerly pushed me off her. "You'reaclingydrunkaren'tyou?" She slurred, her words jumbled together in a rushed manner that was barely discernible.

"Yeaaaaahhhh." I chirped right before laughing like an idiot. Everything was 50x times funnier to me when I was drunk. I thought the same for others when they were drunk. Maybe my knock knock jokes would seem funnier to Anella if I told one now. "Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Cows go."

Before replying, she shot me a skeptical look, possibly wondering if I'd already told her this joke before. "Cows go who?"