Double Take [Sequel to Bound]

13. Sitting Around

Chapter 13—Sitting Around

Klara’s POV:

Klara Styles Getting Out of Control?

Can Harry Styles Control His Rebellious Daughter?

Klara and Leah Styles—Which One’s the Alcoholic?

Does Klara Style Have a Drinking Problem? What Does Father, Harry Styles, Have to Say About That?

          I seethed as I read off each headline slapped overhead a different article on different gossip websites. All I wanted to do when I got home from school was take a nap. But I had then made the mistake of going on Twitter and that’s when I came across all of these bullshit articles about me being the rebellious twin and being out of control.

          Honestly, what teen—besides my sister, I guess—didn’t drink and party? As far as I knew, a lot of them did, and just because I was the daughter of Harry Styles, people made it out to be a bigger deal than it really is. And that annoyed the hell out of me, because who the fuck were these people to judge me? They didn’t know shit about my life, yet they think they have the right to write bullshit articles about me. Well, fuck that.

          With a huff, I tossed my phone on the opposite couch as I stood up and made my way to the kitchen, where I knew I’d find what I needed right now. Opening the fridge, I saw in the back where my dad had his bottle of beers before I pulled one out and used the magnetic bottle opener on the fridge to pop the top open before taking a long sip of it.

          One beer turned into two, which then turned to three. As I sipped my third one, the doorbell rang for my house, and I huffed as I wandered over to the front door, unlocking it before pulling it open. Standing on the other side was the black haired, blue eyed boy that I could semi tolerate.

          “What’re you doing here?” I raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of the beer once more.

          Vin hiked the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder, clearing his throat as he eyed me carefully. “Leah and I have a tutoring session. She texted me that she’d be here in fifteen minutes.”

          “And you’re here early because…?” I trailed off, waving the bottle around as I tried to understand why he was here so soon.

          “I was already pulling up when she said she’d be running late,” he shrugged, biting his lower lip out of nervousness. “Can I come in?”

          I huffed, opening the door wider as I stepped to the side. “If you must,” I muttered, sipping my drink.

          Vin walked in, and I shut the door behind him as I brushed past him and entered the living room. I plopped down on the couch, lifting my feet and resting them on the ottoman in front of me as Vin stood to the side, staring at me with an arched eyebrow. “Did you drink those, too?” he questioned, nodding to the two empty beer bottles on the table.

          “Yeah,” I replied lazy, casting a glance at his direction. I was a little bit tipsy, not really that drunk since I knew how to hold my alcohol.

          “And why are you drinking beer at,” Vin paused, lifting his left wrist to glance at the time on his watch, “six in the evening?”

          I snorted, swinging the bottle around lightly as I watched the liquid inside swirl. “Because I fucking can.”

          Vin sighed, shaking his head. “Is that all you ever do? Just get drunk?”