That Girl

Finley didn't know why she was there. She really didn't. In fact, when she told her father earlier that night that she was going to a party and, yeah, there was probably going to be alcohol and drugs, she didn't know why the hell he didn't stop her.

Maybe he was insane. But she was almost positive that he wasn't.

So why she was standing outside of Katie Levensworth's house on a Friday night, waiting to muster up the courage to push her way through sweaty, drunk bodies and somehow watch Alex's set (without him realizing it), she wasn't aware.

Maybe she was the one who was insane. That was a possibility.

She pulled her purple hood over her head and sucked it up. She was there, after all, might as well try to enjoy herself. She walked through the open door (because why would it be shut at a party?) and looked around. Yeah, parties weren't her thing. Especially stereotypical high school parties that involved too many red plastic cups filled with bad liquor (aka: cheap liquor), too many girls in skimpy clothes gyrating with boys on a pseudo-dance floor, and a crappy band.

Okay, wait, the band wasn't that crappy.

Or, well, they weren't crappy at all.

Finley noticed that in the first ten seconds that she heard them play. And, alright, when Alex started singing, she couldn't deny that yeah, okay, he had a decent voice. (If, well, decent meant amazing. Whatever.) It wasn't like she was expecting him to be bad but, well, she just wasn't expecting him to be so good. She retreated to the corner, attempting to hide behind the bodies of people.

Fine, she just didn't want Alex to know that she was actually there. Considering, well, she had told him that she wouldn't go.

So, yeah, she still didn't know why she was there. Maybe she'd figure it out later. Or maybe not.

But of course he would see her. Of course she would catch his eyes during the chorus of, what she was assuming was an original song. And of course he would have that ridiculous smirk on his face. But Finley was starting to believe that, okay, that's just how his face looked. And while she could say that the smirk was pure arrogance as much as she wanted, but maybe it wasn't. Alex had succeeded in jumbling her thoughts so bad that she didn't know what the hell she was thinking or doing at all anymore.

Otherwise, why the hell would she be at a house party for a girl that she didn't even know (and, if she did, that she doubted she would even like)?

+

Alex kept an eye on Finley throughout the rest of their set. Granted, it was only another fifteen minutes, but he couldn't risk not knowing where she was. Once they had finished, he stepped off the mock-stage and set his guitar to the side and told Jack that he'd find him later, and he set out through the crowd to find Finley. It didn't take too long--her bright red hair, even while partially hidden by her hood, was hard to miss--even though she was clearly trying to lose him in the crowd.

"Fin, wait," Alex said, reaching out to grab her arm before she could walk through the back door.

Finley bit her lip before turning around, meeting Alex's eyes. "Hi."

Alex let out a soft sigh and smiled. "Hi."

"Fancy seeing you here," she muttered.

Alex laughed. "You knew I was playing."

"I did?" she asked before shrugging. "Weird. I thought that was a different party."

"A different Katie Levensworth?"

"I mean, it's possible," she told him.

Alex smiled. "Thank you for showing up when you were adamant that you wouldn't."

Finley sighed. All right. She'd been caught. Whatever. "I don't even know why I'm here…to be honest."

"This isn't your scene?"

"Not at all," she told him while glancing around at the people around her. She couldn't stop the rather judgmental scoff that escaped her lips as her eyes landed on a couple making out against the wall.

Alex followed her gaze and rolled his eyes. "Some people have no class."

"A lot of people have no class," she corrected him.

He shrugged half heartedly and smiled. "Good point. I'm going to get a drink. Would you like one?" he asked.

Finley sighed. "I'll--"

"Wait, wait, let me add something to that," he interrupted. "Would you like one, as long as you don't slip out the back door and leave while I get it, leaving me stranded here, utterly rejected and dejected?"

She laughed. All right, that was kind of adorable. But only kind of. "Jack and Coke."

"More Jack, less Coke?"

"Just the way I like it," she assured him.

Alex went to turn, but he stopped. "You're…not going to leave, right?"

"I'm going to go sit on the back porch. But I won't leave, no," she told him.

Alex held out his hand. "Pinky promise?"

Finley rolled her eyes, but linked her pinky with his anyway. "Pinky promise."

"Good, because that's legit, you know?"

She nodded.

"I'll be back in a minute," Alex told her before slipping into the kitchen. He couldn't stop smiling and, all right, it might have been kind of lame on account of it was because of a girl. But, hell, guys could be subject to ridiculous crushes as well so it didn't bother him too much. He found the liquor stash and was pleasantly surprised to see that there was still a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels available. He made two Jack and Cokes before shoving the bottle under his arm and carrying it out with him. It's not like anyone would notice one missing bottle anyway.

He pushed his way through the crowd, sending the regulatory nods towards people who said they played great, and so on and so forth, until he found the back door and walked out. The yard wasn't empty--there were a few drunk couples doing…God only knew what further out in the yard. Alex's eyes landed on Finley who was sitting with her back against the house, her eyes glued to her cell phone. He walked over and sat down next to her, startling her.

"Shit, I didn't hear you," Finley muttered, pocketing her phone and taking one of the cups from Alex's outstretched hand. "Thank you."

"No worries," he told her before setting the bottle down between them. "Just in case."

Finley smiled and shook her head before taking a sip of her drink.

"How is it?"

"More Jack, less Coke was right," she told him. Most girls wouldn't have appreciated the way whiskey burns after the swallow, but it didn't phase Finley.

"Thanks for not abandoning me," Alex said before taking a drink. "It would've broken my heart if you did."

Finley rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"It would've!"

"I'm so sure," she muttered, taking another drink.

Alex took another drink, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Did you enjoy the set?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "It was okay. The singer could use some work, though."

"Yeah, I heard he's an asshole."

"I heard he's a homosexual."

"Only for Jack. Why, what did you hear?"

"I heard for anyone with a dick."

"Damn those rumors," Alex said with a sigh, shaking his head.

Finley smiled.

Alex finished his drink. "What song did you like the most?"

"The last one you played. It, uh, the one that went we've got unfinished business," she told him.

Alex laughed. "You are fucking tone deaf."

Finley smiled and elbowed him in the side. "Shut up. Not everyone can have a set of pipes like you, okay?"

He shrugged. "It's a special talent."

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled. "Way to make me feel inferior."

Alex smiled and took another drink. "You know. This is the most we've ever talked without you being a bi…bit standoffish," he finished awkwardly.

"You mean, without me being a bitch?"

"I didn't mean…"

"You did. And it's fine," Finley said. "I can't help it sometimes. Makes having to move again easier if I don't have friends." She paused before shaking her head. She wasn't used to sharing that much with someone, anyone.

"You're moving again?"

She shrugged. "Usually do."

"That sucks. I kinda want you to stay."

"Why?"

Alex shrugged.

Finley didn't reply.

"I really am happy that you showed up."

"Yeah?"

"So happy I could kiss you," he told her, reaching for the bottle of Jack and taking a swig. He wasn't drunk, he wasn't even tipsy, but there had to be something going on with his brain for him to speak so brazenly to a girl that could probably take him in a fight.

Finley swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. "I don't think you have the guts."

"You don't?" Alex asked, turning to face her.

"I don't," she repeated, her tone challenging.

Alex wasn't one to back down from a challenge. He reached over, cupping her cheek in his hand. Her cheeks were warm, proof that the alcohol was settling in, but her pupils weren't dilated, and there was no doubt in Alex's mind that she was sober. He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her cheeks, and his eyes drifted shut when their lips met.

That was when they heard the sirens.