The Other Girl

Chapter I

"Hands off—she's taken," a hard voice growled as an arm clenched around my waist, drawing me towards the speaker. The drunk released me, holding his hands up mockingly.

"Fine, fine, wasn't looking for trouble," the man said, laughing to himself as he lumbered away. As his figure faded into the jumble of bodies, I pushed myself away my saviour—as if I'd let him take that credit.

"Saved you again," Calum joked. I snorted.

"I had that covered—just like I had it covered at the last party, and the one before that. Where were you during those?" I snapped at him. He winced.

"C'mon Stella, you know what football means to me," he started, but I held up a hand to cut him off.

"Yes I know, but I thought this was important to you," I said, turning back to the bar and sitting down at my seat. "I thought I was important to you."

Remorse washed over Calum's features, and I felt a momentary pang of guilt for what I said, but I swallowed it immediately. I'd cut him slack in August, then September, but it was now mid-October and he still hadn't made it to a single party. Even though football meant the world to him, I had thought our friendship meant more to the boy I'd grown up with. Because it meant that much more to me.

"Stella, I'm really sorry," Calum said, sliding into the seat beside me after some hesitation. Guilt kept me from dramatically rolling my eyes in response.

"I've heard that one before. Multiple times," I said, a cruel smile sliding onto my face. "Did you just come here to apologize, Cal? Because if so, you have my permission to leave immediately."

"Stells," Calum groaned. I cocked a brow, taking a swig of my drink. "I didn't come here to argue with you, Stella. And what's with the location this time?"

"It's a club, Calum," I said, rolling my eyes in mock-exasperation.

"That's one way to put it," Calum said, glancing around. I followed suit, glossing over the haphazard scene of some shady nightclub Stacey had picked out. Empty beer bottles were strewn about the edges of the room; clubgoers were in various states of disarray, ranging from winter-coat-and-scarf to just about naked; and leather-clad men stood around the fringes of the room, most likely part of some street gang or worse.

"You only live once, Stella," Stacey had quipped when I had questioned her choice. "Why not take some risks?"

"It's a club, Calum," I told him, "no matter how obscure."

"I was thinking more along the lines of dangerous,'" Calum replied, frowning. "This is the sort of place where bar fights and kidnappings occur."

I let out a sharp laugh, startling the bartender as he slid the drinks over.

"At least the drinks are good," I grinned, taking a large gulp of my poison of choice. Whisky on the rocks—cold, hard, but warm. I turned and hooked my arms around the blonde's neck, pulling him towards me. "C'mon, Cal. You didn't come to sit here and whine, did you? Let's go dance."

"Alright, Stells," Calum said, relenting. An amused smile slid onto his face. "I forgot to tell you how stunning you look today."

"Always a charmer, Calum Remington," I laughed before enveloping his lips in a kiss. Calum slid me off the wooden stool and guided me towards the dance floor, and all was as it should be. We were enjoying each other's company, tasting the better sides of both worlds. Neither exactly friends nor lovers, Calum and I...

We're just friends, but also so much more than that.

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"So, I heard that Amy and Jordan finally made it official," Quinn said from across the table, poking through her salad. Quinn was my be all, end all confidant. Having been with me throughout the journey from five-letter spelling tests to the graduation valedictorian speech, Quinn was just about as close to me as Calum. With a family situated in the fashion industry, it wasn't surprising that she was an aspiring designer.