12 | Glitter Cup Girls

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The crowd downstairs is raging to some EDM song. Darren would approve. It is much stuffier with all the sweaty bodies downstairs. The noisier conversations almost drown out the music entirely. I hear a commotion taking place by the front door, and it doesn't take long to figure out why.

Brittany, Amanda, and Olivia standing in the doorway. All three of them look like Barbie models and all three of them are clutching a glittery cup. Leave it to them to bring their own cups to a house party. Tonight, they're the Glitter Cup Girls.

"Dude, check them out." Some drunk frat bro ogles at the front door.

"Hell." His friend let's out a low, appreciative breath.

I want to hide in the sea of partygoers so Shawn can't find me again so easily. I can't explain this to him. I see Nikki and Chloe making out on the same couch I left them on. Lucy is talking to another girl in the kitchen. All I see is long black hair.

A group of guys are huddled around the keg. I turn the corner and see Jake leaning against the far wall. Some girl is all but throwing herself at him. His eyes dart to mine, but I instantly turn around again.

"Elle!" Jake's voice follows me into the next room.

I don't look back. I need air.

I storm past Tasha, who is too busy playing tonsil-hockey to even notice me, and step outside onto the back deck. String lights crisscross above the yard, shining like stars in the darkness. Heat lamps are lined along the side of the fence, and I'm surprised by how many people are outside. It is February after all. The heat lamps help a ton, but it's still bitter cold and I'm convinced you should never be able to see your own breath.

I walk to the furthest heat lamp stationed at the back of the lawn. I pass a few couples aggressively making out and another group of people smoking cigarettes. My booties are sinking in the soft earth; I'm annoyed at Nikki for telling me to wear three-inch heels. I'm more annoyed at myself for listening!

It's only when I reach the space heater that I realize I'm not alone.

"Elle?" A guy asks, his accent ringing like a melody to my ears.

"Harry!" I jump back from him.

"Yes, it's me. Am I that bad?" He laughs.

"No. Sorry. I just didn't realize someone was here. Wait. You're here!" I gasp, flipping a curl out of my face.

"I'm here," he laughs.

Harry emerges from the other side of the space heater lamp, in front of the bushes. He's wearing skinny black jeans and a black leather-looking jacket. I can see chains around his neck, disappearing behind his T-shirt.

"You're at a college party?" I can't keep my voice from sounding incredulous or skeptical. Both.

"Guilty."

"But what are you doing out here? Are you alone?" I ask, trying to smooth my curls.

"Hiding out at the moment. Trying to keep a low profile." Harry shrugs.

"Maybe a college party isn't the best place for that," I quip.

"As I am fast learning," Harry grins. "Dodging some girls inside with fancy cups. Harassment is alive and well."

Harry's smile is infectious and mischievous, and I can't stop looking at his face. Everything sounds better with his accent.

"Ah, those'll be the Glitter Girls." I nod, laughing.

"Appropriately dubbed." Harry laughs. "I sort of ran into them when I got here. Tried not to make a fuss, but it isn't exactly easy with them."

I realize we are standing very close. I see it now. The hysteria fueled by all the lusty teenage girls. Harry is a heartthrob. Capital H. Oh, fine. Capital whole word. There's no other word for him. And here he is talking to me, plain Jane Elle, when inside there are breathtaking supermodel girls shining brighter than the rose gold bracelets around their wrists.

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