Westwood School

Jimmy Buffett would be proud

Rowen:

I took Nola's hand in mine, and I was immediately comforted by the feeling. My only hope was that she was too. I looked down to see her looking beautiful as ever in that black dress. Suddenly, I noticed goosebumps littering her body.

Without a word, I dropped her hand, took off my jacket and threw it over her shoulders. I watched as it practically swallowed her whole. It was slightly comical to see this life of the party with her smiling eyes and constant, beautiful laughter seem so small. I couldn't help but bring her to my chest and try to warm her up by rubbing my hands up and down her arms.

"What's this for?" She asked, her gorgeous accent only making a small appearance. I smiled as I watched her fair skin turn a bright red in a blush.

"Can't I try and warm up my obviously cold girlfriend?" I asked, pulling away to look down at her.

"Girlfriend?" Her voice was quiet, and full of shock.

"I mean... yes?" I said, hesitantly. I mean I thought she was my girlfriend, I thought I got that point very firmly across that day in Caspian's room.

She smirked and pulled back, "In your dreams, lover boy." She gave an exaggerated wink and I couldn't help but laugh at her quirkiness. She wasn't quirky in an "oh hey i'm so quirky I shop only at local stores like brandy melville" way or, the other extreme, "I still collect my little ponies and I sleep with my favorite ones way,". She was odd as in she'd literally skip down a dark alley in london because she had new shoes.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. "Let's go to this pub I know, It's not far from here at all."

Her face lit up at the thought, "Well what are we waiting for? Let's go!" She exclaimed, and began dragging me down the alley.

"Uh, Nola?"

"Hmmm?"

"That's the wrong way..." I said slowly, barely containing a laugh.

"Let's go... the other way!" She exclaimed once more and we ran together like two idiots down the street. I bet we were quite the sight; two teenagers in formal wear running down the alleys in London, without a care or a fear in the world.

Luckily, I was street smart enough to not get us both jumped or robbed, and besides Nola's dopey- additude, I know she was as well as she cracked jokes but her eyes remained sharp, and scanned the streets.

We walked down familiar streets towards my favorite pub, Everest. It was a rowdy, traditional pub that had been there since before WWI, and I swear the owner had been the same the entire time.

Music came pouring out of the building, and I knew that immediately caught Nola's attention. Her head perked up, and her slightly saddened expression was completely erased, replaced with a mischievous grin.

Oh dear god, please do not let me get kicked out of my favorite pub in London, I thought as that grin only widened.

She burst through the door and waltzed up to the bar. I trailed in her footsteps. I thought this place would remind her of home. We may not have Honky Tonks here, but we had pubs, and I guess that was sort of the equivalent.

"I'll have a beer," She announced, and I made contact with the bartender as I slid him the money to do so.

Before I even raised my drink to my mouth, nola had disappeared from right before my eyes. I looked around the pub frantically before I found a huddled crowd cheering. I pushed to the front and watched in horror as somehow Nola had a chugging contest with an extremely gruff bearded old man. And I watched in even more terror as Nola beat the man and the room erupted into cheers.

She wiped the frother from her face with the back of her hand and with the other, she reached out to me. "Come on, let's dance!" She announced, as if not only to me, but to the entire bar. And she then pulled me in and kissed me like there was no tomorrow.

I had just begun to melt into her touch when she pulled away and climbed onto a table. She took off my jacket she had been wearing, and began to dance

The band picked up, the fiddling playing quickly, and she threw her hands in the air and drank beers that were handed to her from god knows who. I didn't know if I should be watching in tettor, but for some reason, pride swelled up in my chest. She was unlike any girl who'd ever graced the hallways of Westwood.

She danced and danced, and hopped off the table, and grabbed the arm of some man and sung him around with the cruck of her arm. As soon as they had completed a circle, she released him and grabbed onto another man.

I watched as she threw her head back in laughter and twirled about the room. I lost her head for a second, then she reappeared right before my eyes.

"Here," She said, and handed me her shoes. Then she looked me in the eyes, and grabbed my hand, "Come on, I just wanna dance."

She dragged me onto the dance floor, and we danced. The whole bar did. I set her shoes somewhere, hopeful I'll remember where.

Before I even had gotten into the groove of dancing, she pulled me towards the wall, "Let's play darts!"

I smiled, I knew I could beat her. No one could beat me at darts, especially not Nola in her drunken state. I nodded to her and we then played a round.

****

I changed my mind. She can beat me at darts. Not only darts, but also pool and shuffleboards. She was gloating in pride while I just stood there absolutely dumbstruck.

Dear god, I think somehow you put me with the best girl in the entire world. Besides the fact that I did intervene when I found her in the men's bathroom trying to learn how to smoke a pipe while there was a literal drug deal going on. There were so many things wrong with that.

Now I was watching her climb on stage. She had somehow convinced the band players, "Yes I can sing, no I'm not too drunk. I'm from Nashville," as if that was some sort of explanation.

Even more surprisingly, I'm not sure how the hell she got them to play maybe the most American artist in the entire world. Jimmy Buffett.

I watched in awe as she sang her rendition of Magartiaville to the point the entire pub was singing it. First of all, what middle aged english man knows all the words to Jimmy Buffett? Were are we, Orange Beach?

She seemed to have a spell on them, to the point that the crowd only got bigger and bigger, and she didn't stop dancing until the owner came to me, told me it was past closing time, and I literally picked her up and threw her over my shoulder as we walked out the door.

This woman!

Thoughts? I'm sorry I haven't been writing a whole ton- do you guys like it better when Magnolia is the POV or Rowen? Also- please vote or comment! If y'all are into more adventure/fantasy, I have another book I've written/am working on ass well, so feel free to go check it out.