American girl [H.S.]

Chapter 37 - Strippers and weed

April 4th, 2009

"Why are we doing this again?" I whisper yelled.

"Cause it'll be fun." Harry pulled me over to our bikes.

"You're such a bad influence, Styles." I shook my head, laughing.

"Oh well." He shrugged, hopping on the bike and leading the way.

Harry was taking me to a party that he had heard about, but he was sneaking me out and I was kind of nervous.

I trusted him, though.

He is my best friend after all.

Once we arrived we set our bikes down in the grass and I could already hear the blasting music from inside.

Harry grabbed my hand, making it tingle at his touch, and pulled me into the house.

"Harry!" I heard someone yell and I turned to see a boy walking towards us. "I didn't think you would make it! We got a weed and beer so help yourself."

"Alright thanks man." He said, pulling me into the kitchen and grabbing a beer, chugging it.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom." I told Harry, making my way upstairs until I finally had some room to breathe.

I don't mind the alcohol and weed, I do it myself sometimes, but we don't have a way home besides our bikes and if I get caught by my mom I'm screwed.

I don't know why Harry dragged me here and who these friends of his are, but I'm really not feeling this right now.

I took a deep breath and head back downstairs to find Harry. What I saw was something I would have never expected.

I need some weed.

I rush over to some random guy and snatch the blunt from his hands, making my way to the couch and taking a hit.

Better, but that was still awful.

I have no idea why that made me want to throw up, but it did and I really need to relax.

"Emma." I heard someone say and turning to see a very smiley Harry.

"You're drunk aren't you?" I said, blowing out the smoke from my mouth.

"And high." He said, wiggling his eyebrows and plopping down next to me.

He grabbed the blunt from my hand and places it to his lips. I watch his movements closely and he turns to me with a smile.

I forgot he's a smiley drunk.

"Why are you so grumpy?" He pouted.

"Did you have fun with your stripper?" I asked, changing the subject.