Bet On It | H. Styles

ix

Wendy didn't mind.

She closed her eyes and moved to the beat of the song, every once in a while making sure to grind down on the boy behind her. She didn't even know this side to herself and it slightly terrified her. Most of her life she's been overstressed and worked the most diligent so she could succeed in life. She would attend parties, and drink, and even once hit a joint, but she never really let go.

Besides the party at her house and sleeping with Harry, she always kept herself in check. Always had some sort of order over her life. Tonight she just felt like a new person.

It was this strange revelation. She realized she finally was an adult, out of high school. It was just any other ordinary party, on any other ordinary night, but she wanted to make it mean something. And she couldn't exactly pinpoint why. And that terrified her.

But it was when she opened her eyes at the end of the song that she felt more terrified. Immediately, her eyes locked with familiar green ones. He looked at her as if in shock, or as if he didn't even know her. And maybe he didn't.

After all, the Wendy he knew never flung herself onto just any guy. She never danced at any party, no matter the type. He could even tell she was tipsy, and she never got tipsy.

Harry was baffled to say the least. But his interest was soon wiped away when he was brought back to reality by his new blonde friend.

"Harry? Were you listening?" She giggled, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"No, sorry, uh– what'd you say?" He looked away.

And then they both returned to their own private worlds.

Wendy turned her body around to keep her mind on the blonde boy. He really was pretty. His blue eyes glistened, reminding her (even though very cliché) of the ocean, or the morning sky. His blonde hair remained tousled like from earlier on in the day. It skin seemed to have tan even more from when she last saw him but that could easily be from the dim light of the room.

"Take a picture, it'd last longer," he broke her trance.

"Sorry," she giggled. She really was tipsy. She was tempted to not go any further drinking wise, and to get some water to sober up. But she remembered that she hadn't done this ever, and that now was the perfect opportunity to forget her morals. She was surrounded by strangers she'd never meet again, so she simply didn't care.

"No, it's okay, I like your staring," he grinned. She now even noticed the small dimple that formed on his right cheek.

This made Wendy scoff, "Of course."

Through the duration of about four more songs, they stood there face to face dancing their asses off. Wendy never danced so much in her life, and that isn't an exaggeration.

The only time she could remember dancing was at a family wedding about twelve years prior. She was having the time of her life, dancing away in this frilly pink dress her mother had just bought, accompanied with some new white shoes. But take new shoes, and a newly waxed dance floor, and you have a girl slipping onto her face. Wendy was scarred for life, so from there on out she vowed to never dance again.

Until now.

She still couldn't process why she was having this sudden urge to rebel against her own mind, but she decided to not think about it much more.

"What do you say we go join the crowd outside and call dibs on next game of beer pong? If that's okay?"

Immediately at the mention of beer pong Wendy is reminded of the last time she played, causing her cheeks to flush for about the millionth time that night.