𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 , drew starkey

seven

Arabella winced at the memory of their last interaction, the one that had made her sprint away to throw up. Rudy noticed her change in demeanor and quickly changed the subject, sensing her discomfort.

"Just—forget it," Rudy quickly said, hoping Arabella wouldn't get too upset by the topic. "At least it's better now."

"Yeah, way better," Arabella said, giving Rudy a sympathetic smile. She then poured herself another drink, lifted it up with a grin, and took a sip.

"So," Rudy started, his eyes curious as he took a sip of his beer to match Arabella's drink. "What do you think of the show?"

"You're going to hate me for this," Arabella pouted, her expression sheepish. "But I didn't watch it yet."

"What?" Rudy gawked, putting a playful hand on his heart. "Such a fake friend."

"I know, I know!" Arabella raised her hands in surrender, laughing. "I would've watched it tonight, but Madelyn and Madison dragged me here instead, and well, you know how they are."

"That I do. But you have to watch it tomorrow. " He raised his eyebrows in challenge.

"I will, I will. Don't worry."

"Promise?" Rudy said, lifting out his pinky, indicating a pinky promise.

"Promise." Arabella lifted out hers as well, interlocking their pinkies in a promise as Arabella took another sip of her drink with her free hand.

"Thought you didn't drink."

A familiar voice behind her startled Arabella again, but this time she knew who it was and she didn't want to look. Keeping her eyes locked on Rudy's. She noticed Rudy slowly starting to scoot away from the scene, making Arabella shoot him a glare. He mouthed a quick "sorry" before disappearing from the kitchen completely. Arabella pressed her lips into a line, mumbling a curse under her breath.

Leaving Arabella no choice, she turned her head. Making brief eye contact with Drew until she moved her body so her front was leaning against the counter instead of her back. She poured a mixer into her drink before guzzling the rest of it. No way she was going to talk to Drew sober.

"Want more?" A guy asked from the other side of the counter when he saw Arabella finish her drink.

"Yeah—"

"She's good." Drew harshly spoke to the guy, cutting Arabella off. His tone was sharp, and the guy took a step back, slightly lifting his hands in defeat, clearly intimidated by Drew.

"Okay, what the hell?" Arabella finally spoke, turning around to face Drew. Her voice was firm, her eyes narrowing at him. "What is your problem?"

"Since when do you drink?" Drew asked, ignoring Arabella's previous question.

"Since when did you care?" She retorted.

"I don't."

"Keep it that way," Arabella huffed, turning to walk away from Drew. However, in her drunken state, she stumbled on her steps, making Drew to quickly put his hands out to keep Arabella from falling.

Arabella froze at his touch but shrugged him off nonetheless.

"M'fine." Arabella muttered, avoiding Drew's gaze.