deeper shades // bridgit mendler [DISCONTINUED]

[nine]

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[nine]

[bridgit]

Needless to say, dinner was awkward.

The déjà vu that was running through the room was astonishing. Harry's mom and sister were unexpectedly here, Shane was here, and the tension in the room couldn't be cut even with a steak knife. All we needed was Lola and a roasted turkey and it'd be a replay of Thanksgiving dinner two years ago.

I was happy that Harry wasn't saying anything bad, though that may just be he wasn't saying anything at all. He was borderline drunk.

You see, Harry acts differently whenever he's drunk with different sorts of liquor. For example, he gets very honest whenever he's drinking vodka, loud when he drinks whiskey, and apparently very observant whenever he has rum. It's almost like he's high, which I hope he wasn't because that really wasn't a good look for any of us.

"I think I'm going to become a vegetarian," he told me in a low voice, leaning over. Everyone looked on curiously, not knowing what he was saying but he must've looked like freaking Confucius. "So if animals ever came together and revolted against humans, you and I can say we are on their side."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and tightly pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh.

"Would you like me to pass the baked chicken, Harry?" My Mom asked, raising the platter with one hand. He smiled genuinely and shook his head.

"No thank you Mrs. Mendler, I'm a vegetarian."

It was so hard not to laugh.

"You can drink now, Digit?" My grandfather asked me. I nodded and he passed me the bottle of white wine. "Let's see how sophisticated of a drinker you are."

I was surprised and tried to refuse, but now all of the adults were looking toward me to drink a glass of wine as if I were one of the Upper East Side moms on Gossip Girl. If anyone knew me, they knew I couldn't hold alcohol for anything and I doubt this would be any different. In a couple of moments, I'm going to be just like Harry. And speaking of Harry...

"Check the ingredients for animals," he whispered to me and, I couldn't help it. I snorted in an attempt to hold in my chuckle and everyone looked confused.

Anyway, I poured my wine and rose it to my lips. My eyes locked with Shane's and he began to turn red as he held in his hysterics.

"Don't forget to hold your pinkie out, Bridgit," he reminded me. "Isn't that what the British do, Harry?"

"Actually," Harry began and I clamped my left hand over his mouth and finally took a gulp of the alcohol.

"You're supposed to sip it," my mother corrected.

"Mom, this isn't an episode of Desperate Housewives. I've got a long way to go before I even want to know how to properly drink wine."

"I know how to," Bridgette spoke up proudly and I wanted to gag. She may look like me, but she was proving herself to be really annoying. "It's really easy, Bridgit-wait, that's weird. Bridgette, Bridgit? You know what, you can call me Jessica again. That's my middle name."

While she was babbling on about things no one actually cared about, Harry's Mom spoke up.

"So, Bridgit, Harry, have you guys set a date for the wedding?"