Young Writers Society

"You're going to Howler's in that?"

Oakley was standing in the threshold, staring at a wide-eyed Max. She looked down at herself. She didn't think shorts and a tank top would be that bad to wear. It wasn't as if they were going ballroom dancing, or to a formal tea party. "Is it really that bad?"

"Babe, it's Howler's. Howler's. You gotta wear less than that. And something that's in one piece..." Max said.

Oakley stared at her friend, noticing that Maxine was wearing sweat pants and a baggy T-shirt.

She caught the judgement, "Well I'm not ready yet. We have to dress you, first. It'll take the most time, and I already picked out what I want to wear."

"We have to dress me? Why do we have to dress me? I mean, Max..." Oakley protested.

"Oh come on, it'll only take a second. Plus, you'll look like a complete babe. Trust me."

As if Oakley hadn't heard those words, trust me, come out of her friend's mouth a gazillion times before. Max took her friend's hand and guided her to the bedroom. Oakley followed in obedience and silence, showing no resistance, yet wanting so badly to resist.

The first three outfits that Max had made her try on weren't that bad, if put on a curvier figure, or one with a little more chest. The first was a dark red with lace leading up to the neck from the chest and into spidery sleeves. It was cute, but the long sleeves were itchy. Plus, they covered a large amount of arm and seemed to emphasize how small the amount of leg was covered.

The second was a strapless blue dress that hung around her ankles, and had a slit down the left leg. It probably only fell to Max's knees, and it looked awkward on Oakley's small frame.

The third was a frilly purple dress that made her feel as though she was a child on Halloween in a princess costume. Though, Oakley figured that no matter what she picked, she would still feel like she was dressing up as someone else.

"Okay," Max sighed, rummaging through her small closet, "I do have one more that I think will look really good on you. Better than the others," she promised.

Her bedroom wasn't all that big, considering she lived in a trailer with three other people. She had one window, a bed, a dresser, and her closet. Though the closet didn't seem to be so useful, since most of her clothes were always in piles around her floor. The room was much smaller than Oakley's; it felt so confined. Max had once complained to her that her two younger siblings got a bigger bedroom than she did. Although, Oakley had objected that Max's siblings did in fact have to share the room, which she thought only made it smaller for both of them.

"Aha! Found it!" Max came out from the closet, displaying a very skinny dress that looked like it was made fit for a Barbie doll. It was a short black dress that left the shoulders uncovered with attached sleeves that reached to her elbows.

When Oakley had tried it on, after repeatedly complaining that it looked too fancy for her, it seemed to fit alright despite her doubts. She looked in the mirror, constantly pulling up the fabric at her chest. "It's going to fall down, Max."

"Believe me," her friend said, "it won't."

Max had dressed herself into the second option she had given Oakley, the strapless blue one with the slit down one leg. Oakley wondered how she managed to feel comfortable in a dress like that, and then realized that she probably didn't.

Max curled Oakley's brown hair, pinning it up with narrow strips of silver ribbon. Oakley held her hand up to stop her when Max took out her makeup bag, and then was met with a splash of glitter to her face. Max was all about glitter when it came to parties. Oakley thought it looked ridiculous, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't get it off her cheeks.

"Alright," Max said, slugging her purse strap over her shoulder, "Ready to go?"

* * *

The club was full of swaying bodies, all dancing to the uncomfortably loud music. Their skin glistened with sweat under the flashing lights of the spinning silver disco ball overhead. Howler's was a wide one story building with a floor that sunk low into a dance floor in the middle by stair. The far end displayed a raised stage with a half naked woman screaming into the mic, accompanied by two men playing guitars and a drummer in the back.

Max screamed over the music, "Now this is a party!"

Oakley stared into the crowds of people, eyeing a boy and a girl who looked no older than she, straddling each other in a corner. She glanced around, and to her surprise—and relief—found several security guards surrounding the walls of the club, standing at the stage, and two at each exit. For a short moment she felt reassured by the amount of security, then wondered if they found it necessary to have so many guards. She shuddered.

"You sure you're good here? We can leave it you want," Max asked, though her attention seemed to be elsewhere.

Oakley nodded, mostly for her friend's sake than her own. If she were to disagree, Maxine would probably sulk the whole night. "Go ahead onto the floor. I'll go get us some drinks."

Max grinned, and half-walked half-skipped down the steps and into the horde of bodies. It took Oakley less than ten seconds to lose sight of her, and the thought that her and her friend were separated in the night club filled with troublemakers and security officers made her feel unsteady. She pushed the thought aside and tried to swallow her uncomfortable fear.

The bar was just to the left of the entrance, though Oakley still had to dodge bodies just to get to a stool at the counter. She had asked the tattooed barista if they carried sodas, and the woman looked at her as if she were a hunter and Oakley the prey. "Right," Oakley said, "just two Cokes, please. Or, uh, Dr. Pepper if you have it." She was handed the drinks within a couple minutes and twisted away from the counter.

Her eyes searched the room for her friend, and landed on a man glaring back at her. He wasn't far from her, and from the short distance, his stare seemed to pierce into her skin like knives. His dark hair was tousled, as if he had just rolled out of bed, and his grin was laced with a lust that said "found you."

Her heart sank in her chest, her stomach flipping over and over. It was a feeling so much worse than butterflies, as if the butterflies died and became moths made of fire, tearing at her insides. Who is he? What does he want? Why me? Why is he staring at me like that?

Her eyes went to the floor as she made her way through the crowd of people, trying to find the closest exit. She just wanted to run, to get out. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, and she almost forgot to apologize when she spilled her sodas on a dancing couple. She needed out. The room felt awfully hot, and her dress stuck to her skin with nervous sweat. She felt fingers wrap around her forearm and jerk her backwards, almost tripping over her own feet. Her hand reached out and landed on a firm chest, and she fell into his arms. She looked up to see his face, and just stared with wide eyes.

He was all cheekbones and jawline, his eyes a dark brown that reminded her strangely of chocolate. His lips were parted, and before she could pull from him, they were kissing.

She felt her muscles relax, and every bone in her body seemed to turn to jelly, his arms the only thing keeping her steady. She was barely aware of his hand on her waist, how the end of her dress needed to be pulled down, and how bare her shoulders were. His lips were hard on hers, fierce and hot, filled with desire. As if he was a starving lion, and she a wounded gazelle. She forgot that she had no idea who the man was. She didn't exactly kiss back, but she definitely felt no urgency to resist.

Then he let go of her. The scent of pine and lavender emanated off of him, heavy in the air around her. She sucked in her breath, and realized how fast her heart was beating. She wanted to shove out of his grasp, get as far away from him as possible, but she couldn't move. She felt frozen in his embrace, feeling that if he were to let go of her she would simply fall limp onto the floor at his feet.

He smiled, licking his lips, "You have no idea how long I've waited to do that."

~ ~ ~

Hey guys! Author here! Just wanted to mention that she has seen this mystery man several times before, so she recognizes him, there's no fault there. I'm hoping to get reviews on grammar issues and smoothing out my writing. Hope you can help!