Friday, Behren's Cove, 10:30PM (Wheeler's POV)
I am so thankful that I survived this long week.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
I can feel the beat of the music in my chest as Niall leads me by the hand to a quiet corner of the party. Suddenly he is kissing me like I've never been kissed before, licking my lips with his tongue and begging for me to let him deepen the experience. Looking for excitement, I gladly let him. He finds a couch to sit on nearby and I wrap my arms around him, straddling his waist with my legs and exposing quite a bit of undergarment. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks at the thought of someone seeing us, but I dissolve those feelings quickly and try to loosen up. We make out for a few minutes, tongues wrestling in an outburst of passion until his hand makes it's way up my skirt. I go cold all over and pray he doesn't notice. I'm not ready for this, but I have to play it cool.
"You want a drink? I really need one," I say calmly, climbing off of him slowly and silently thanking God that no one was watching us too closely.
"Sure," he grins at me and folds his hands in his lap. I don't think he realizes that I was uncomfortable at all. Score. I whisper congratulations to myself until I reach the drink table and the creepy guy manning it.
"The name's Slug. What can I getcha?" even though everyone here is under the age of twenty five, "Slug" looks to be more like thirty or thirty five. Gross.
"B-beer and a margarita," I stutter, trying to sound confident and failing as I looked into his unsettling gaze.
"Here ya go, honeycakes," he hands me both things, brushing my fingers just enough to make me shudder as I hand him the money.
As I walk away I start to take a sip of my margarita, elated to try something new--but I'm stopped quickly when someone reaches up from above and jerks my hand down. I'm terrified, assuming that it's "Slug" coming to do unspeakable things to me, but I'm shocked to look up into the eyes of none other than Harry Styles.
"What the hell, Harry? I'm a big girl, I can make my own decisions, we've had this talk!" I yell, eliciting some unwanted stares from people crowded near us.
"There's a date rape drug in that, and you'll be completely knocked out after about five sips," he just stares at me with no feeling in his eyes.
"How do you know?" I ask incredulously.
"I saw Slug put it in before he gave it to you--he does it with lots of girls so he can hopefully find them once they're knocked out."
"That's messed up, why doesn't anyone tell on him?"
"He's the one that buys the alcohol for all the underaged."
"Well, thanks.." I feel like an idiot for some reason.
"It's no problem. You should probably get back to your date, it looked like you had some unfinished business."
Now my cheeks are on fire and I don't like Harry again. I didn't want anyone to see that, but I really didn't want him to see that.
"I guess so," I dump my margarita on the ground and hurry away from him, trying to look tough but probably looking like a spooked horse.
"What took you so long, and why don't you have a drink?" Niall asks worriedly from the couch as I walk up.
"It's a long story--but I thought we could share," I plop down on his lap and take a huge swig of the beer to loosen myself up. I can see Harry in the distance and his eyes are flitting around uncomfortably. I let Niall take a drink, and then I take another large sip. The tongue wrestling from earlier continues for an hour, thankfully devoid of the grabbing of undergarments, and I want another drink. I feel loose and uncaring and just happy, a feeling I haven't experienced in quite a long time. I need more.
"I'm going to get us some more drinks," I slur a little, climbing unsteadily off of Niall's lap.
"I can go," Niall replies, slurring a bit as well.
"No, no, I want to," I insist, stumbling toward the drink table. I can see a blank-faced Harry in my blurry peripheral.
"More beer," I wave to Slug at the table, balancing against it for support. He smiles at me eerily, and I'm still sober enough to be alarmed by him. I watch him carefully, remembering what Harry said, but I'm forced to tear my eyes away for a moment when my earring somehow falls to the ground. When I rise back up, Slug isn't at the table. I look side to side, but all I see are drunken dancers crowded around. Then I look behind me.
"Found me, darlin'." my breath catches in my throat as I turn and Slug is there. He gets a firm grip on my wrists. I've been hit on in disgusting ways before, but never like this. His breath is blowing in my face as he gets closer, and it smells of Jim Beam and hamburgers. I think I might vomit. I can't wriggle from his grasp, and I can't find the courage to scream, but I desperately try as his lips brush my cheek and his hand shoves it's way up my skirt, dangerously close to a place I've never been touched before. I pray as hard as I can that this won't be the first time, and then something unbelievable happens.
It's like slow motion that I will forever be able to replay. I jump back and Slug loses his grip on me as Harry's fist flies into his face and hits with a loud crack. Slug screams and everyone is looking now, but Harry is too angry to see them. I can even pick out Niall staring intensely at the incident from off in the distance. Harry gently moves me towards the crowd and then wastes no time shoving Slug into his table full of drinks. Glass shatters and plastic cups pop as they break under Slug's weight and he screams again. "No, no no, no, no," I whisper a few moments later when Slug's fist somehow connects with Harry's eye. Blood is trickling from his cheek, but Harry gets in one last punch before he runs into the woods, and I am indebted to him once again.
"He tried to rape you? How did no one notice?" Niall has been asking questions since the moment I reached him and we hurried to the car.
"Everyone else was dancing...I, I don't know," I say, still pretty shaken up.
"I'll have to thank Harry, though I wish it could have been me."
Oh please, I think, you couldn't have done half of that damage. But then I remember that Harry doesn't want me in his life.
"Thanks, baby," I coo as I press my lips against Niall's for our last make out session of the night. This time I let him kiss me until I'm practically drunk on passion, dying to forget the events of the night any way that I can.
"I love you," his lips press to my forehead when we're finished.
"I love you, too," I say quietly.
But do I mean it?
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, it was fun to write :) Thanks so much to WifiHarold for voting and reading my story, and thank you to all of you for being wonderful as usual!
