9. Drunk Klara

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Chapter 9 – Drunk Klara

Klara’s POV:

          “Come on, Leah! It’s Friday night!”

          “So?” my sister, who sat on her bed reading yet another thick book, responded as she didn’t even spare me a glance.

          “So,” I stressed, crawling on to her bed and sitting with my legs folded underneath my body. “Come with me to this party. Come on, Leah—you never come to parties with me. You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

          Leah finally looked up from her book, shooting me a pointed look that I was so used to receiving from her. “Yes, I do,” she said. “I’m missing out on watching my wasted peers make fools of themselves in front of each other while they drink their problems away and dance in a way that could be classified as sex. No thank you.”

          Her gaze finally returned to her book and I groaned, falling forward on my stomach as I faced her. “Stop being so studious, Leah. Riker, Talia, Wyatt and Christy are all gonna be there, too. They all want you to come.” When she didn’t budge, I suppressed a huff before adding, “I heard Dylan Tanner’s gonna be there, too.”

          To my triumph, I saw my sister perk up the teensiest bit when she heard the name of the drummer that I was sure she fancied, and a smirk slowly formed on my face as Leah tried to keep her composure, keeping her gaze on her book. “And why should that affect me?”

          “Because, as your sister, it’s my duty to relentlessly bother you about your crush and constantly try to get you to hook up with him.”

          At that, Leah’s head snapped so fast in my direction, I feared that she had gotten a whiplash. But, instead, her cheeks tinted a light pink color and I knew that my sister—no matter how hard she tried—could never actually hide her feelings when it came to facial expressions. She was too obvious and too cute about it.

          “I—I don’t want to hook up with Dylan!” she exclaimed, her face now flushed as she snapped her book shut. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

          I scoffed, pushing myself so I sat up once more. “Shut up, Leah—you’re my twin and no matter how much you want to, you can’t hide anything from me. So, get your ass off the bed and start getting ready. Wear something hot. Dylan’s gonna wanna have his hands all over you.”

*~*~*~*

          About an hour and a half later, both Leah and I were ready for the party and were in my car, on our way. I had gotten Leah to wear a cute floral crop top with spaghetti straps with some light blue denim high waisted shorts, show they showed off a tiny bit of skin on her torso and a whole lot of the long legs she had. I stuck to my usual black singlet and shorts with combat boots—my usual party get-up.

          “Are you sure about this, Klara?” Leah questioned exasperatedly the umpteenth time since we had gotten into the car.

          I rolled my eyes, making a left turn as I glanced at my twin. “Seriously, Leah, you’re gonna have a blast, okay?” I assured her. “Besides, Pete Weston throws the best parties in the entire school. It’ll be fine.”

          “I just—” Leah sighed, running a hand through her wavy blonde hair. “You know I don’t really drink and I’m not that good with boys. I get so awkward in these situations.”

          I scoffed. “This coming from a girl who modeled for Burberry.”

          “That’s different!” she exclaimed. “I’m just walking the runway for a show—I don’t have to talk to anyone. Here, there are so many people all around me dancing and drinking and I just… Ugh.”

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