How to Steal a Happy Ending

•twenty two• Friday night lights.

If I was being completely honest with myself, I'd say I was more than just in awe of the creature standing across the room from me...I was jealous of him. James had everything I wanted and more.

He never needs to fit in, instead everything and everyone molded to fit him. They all cared what he thought. His opinion mattered to them. He was important. And the best part? He doesn't give a shit.

He had no idea how to play football nor was he loaded. He never really means what he says and he never keeps the promises he makes. All the girls know he's a player, more than half of them with first hand knowledge. That James was an asshole was pretty much common sense by now.

So why do people still love him? It was question I couldn't answer before. And god knows I've spent many sleepless nights trying to.

But now as I watched him whisper sweet nothings to Sara Wright, I knew why.

Because James Montgomery was a living, breathing enigma and everybody loves what they can't understand. So much so that even miss 'goody two shoes I-have-a-stick-up-my-ass' can't resist.

One shoulder leaning against the wall and the other in a slant, he put the least amount of effort possible into standing upright. Apparently, for James the fight against gravity was effortless. This was accentuated by his lazy half-smile as he made Vince's cousin swoon like a twelve year old girl at a One Direction concert. And his reaction to her was the cherry on the cake, really. The way he'd tilt his head back as if to get a better look at her and all the same keep his eyes above sea level. That's probably what gets them to fall for him hook, line and sinker; his freighted interest in what they have to say. Of course, I know better. He's just like any other guy, pretending to care but really imagining how you look under those clothes.

"Is something wrong?" I reluctantly pulled my gaze away from the two undoubtedly horny teenagers and smiled at Austin, who had so far been living up to my expectations. I'd let him inch his hand further down my back, and pretended not to notice when he'd rake his eyes over me. Sure, he treated me like I was piece of meat but at least I was a piece of meat he wanted. To be desired by someone is the best high one could ever experience.

I leant towards him, "Do you want to get a drink?"

"Yeah, we're definitely too sober for this party." The hand on my waist remained where it was as we ploughed through the throngs of people that stood between us and alcoholic salvation. In the midst of some jostling by the crowd, his hand slid further down coming to a rest on the bare skin that my top failed to cover. I dipped down to make sure my pumps were properly on my feet. Rather that's what you pretended to do. When I straightened back up, I made sure to place my hand in his before it could go anywhere else.

Along the way, I snuck another look at James and Sara. Sure, I'd be impressed if he somehow got past her ironclad chastity belt. He's certainly the right man for the job. But this bet hinges on who's hotter, not who's harder to score. Even with that cute (albeit beyond knee-length) dress and all her makeup, Sara was still a six. And as my date led me towards the kitchen, I could safely say that ass itself was a solid eight. So James could bust his ass all night trying to get uppity little Sara to spread her legs for him. But come daybreak, the only one that'll be emerging victorious is me.

Here, the crowd thinned but the noise was no less than in the living room. I dug through a red colored cooler propped precariously on the edge of the marble counter, emerging with two breezers and grumpy scowl. "How many of these do you think it takes to get drunk?" I asked by back to him.

"Maybe a million." Austin chuckled slowly and warmly, reminding me of honey. It seemed off for a guy like him, like a penguin singing the humming bird's song.

I tossed the bottles back into the ice box. But my disappointment was short-lived when I turned to be met with the sight of him holding two solo cups. Each filled with a cocktail of whatever liquor a bunch of underage kids could get their hands on. I took one from him, a mile-wide grin gracing my face, dancing in sync to my enthusiasm. I brought my lips to the plastic rim and took an healthy gulp. My eagerness to get buzzed was fueled by the fact that I couldn't go further than this unless heavily under the influence. His seas green eyes trained on my mouth, he halfheartedly asked, "You sure you want to go that fast?" Not that he cared either way. The less sober I was, the easier I'd get.

"It's not like I'm a lightweight."

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A/N: Yay!! A new chapter (!)(?)

I really hope to hear from you guys on this chapter =D

(the next one will probably be a Lessons in Love chapter)

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