Workers with Benefits (One Direction fan-fic)

Chapter 12- Second Date

Hey guys! Sooo I'm sorry about the delayed chapter, my whole week has been soo busy because I'm going to overnight camp for the week. I'll be back next Saturday, but I'm letting you know ahead of time I wont be able to update for two weeks :\ sorry. Hope you like this chapter though! WARNING: there's a lil smut hahaha

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The week had gone by like a breeze. After my first day I was able to find all my classes, and had managed to make another acquaintance or two in each of my classes. I wasn’t exactly able to put myself out there like I wanted, but I had more friends than I had back in high school, and that’s all that really mattered to me.

It was six when I stepped into my dorm room, seeing Clara typing at a high speed. I curiously walked over by her, my eyes lingering on her computer screen as I dropped my backpack on the floor and collapsed on my bed.

She repositioned her body in my direction, a smug look plastered on her face, “so what are we doing tonight? It’s finally the weekend!”

I suckled on the inside of my cheeks, guilt flooding on to my face, “I’m really sorry . . . but I have plans tonight.” I said with much remorse.

“Oh.” She said cheerlessly, her face turning gloomy, “what are you doing?”

“Well, I’m kind of going out. With someone.” I really had wanted to get away from this topic, because I knew how much pressure Clara would put on me to find out who asked-

“Who, oh my gosh spill!” Clara squealed, thrusting herself from her chair to her bed, criss-crossing her legs and leaning in in anticipation.

“Um, it’s really not that important.” I muttered, walking up to my dresser and rummaging around in it, my back facing her so she wouldn’t see my face turning crimson.

“Oh come on, if this person is taking up our time they must be pretty damn important!” She exclaimed. Her tone was playful, but I knew that if I kept up with this she would only grow more irritated. Something about that damn girl; she always somehow managed to weasel her way into my business and get me spill everything to her. I think from now I’m calling it the, ‘Clara Effect’.

“Fine. It’s a guy, kay?” I grumbled, feeling a mixture of emotions; mostly embarrassment and annoyance.

"Seriously? Oh my gosh! Who is he? Is he cute? Does he have a job? How old is he? Is he from England?” The amounts of questions being thrown in my direction made me feel claustrophobic. I collapse on to my bed and let out an obnoxious groan, hoping Clara catches along that she’s driving me mad.

“You do not know him, he has a job, he’s from England, he’s 19 and um . . . yes, he is cute, to answer your thousands of questions.” I exaggerate, melodramatically rolling my eyes; glad when I see Clara glaring at me with a pout on her lips.

“Where you guys gonna go?” Clara asks, returning to her usual self and bouncing on the edge of her bed.

“Um, I don’t know, actually. He said wear something sexy?” That was about all I had as for a clue, but just telling me to wear something appealing doesn’t exactly determine my fate for the night.

"Say no more! I know exactly what you’re wearing!” Clara squeals, powering off the bed and plunging into her dresser, digging around for something.

“I swear to god, if it’s that god awful bra-” I start, but a hand clutching a sheer material emerges from the depths of the drawer, and she holds it up like it’s Simba being baptized from the Lion King.

“Say hello to your tonight’s outfit!” She sing-songs, and I grab the soft cloth out of her hand, tossing it on the bed and spreading it apart to reveal a ordinary yet stunning dress. I frowned and tilted my head, studying it hard.