Tug of War

Danielle Peazer leaned close to the mirror and teased her curly brown hair again, trying to make sure it didn’t fall flat on her. After one more swipe of mascara across her eyelashes, she was finally content enough with her appearance and allowed herself to venture out into the living room of her flat.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” her roommate Kristen acknowledged half-heartedly, most of her focus on the TV-edited version of Dirty Dancing playing in front of her. “About time you showed your face.”

Danielle rolled her eyes and gave her friend a twisted look. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t look gross before I went out, that’s all.”

“Oh?” Kristen finally drew her dark brown eyes away from the television, fixing her gaze on Danielle’s retreating form, watching her enter the kitchen and start a cup of coffee. “And why’s that? Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting Harry at half one,” Danielle answered shortly, taking a sip from the steaming mug. “He wants me to help him pick out an outfit for a party his friend’s having next week. That’s all.”

“Or he wants an excuse to see you again.” Kristen giggled, the most girly sound Danielle had ever heard the blonde make, and narrowed her eyes with amusement. “I’m telling you, he fancies you!”

Dani struggled to keep from snorting with laughter at the prospect. She was very aware that Harry had no sort of attraction toward her whatsoever, and she much wanted to keep things that way. Their friendship was fun and drama-free, a breath of fresh air from the kind of high-stress dancers she usually spent her time with. Kristen was a perfect example; although she was kind and sweet, she tried to find scandalous happenings where there were none, and sometimes, Danielle found the process exhausting.

“I told you a million times,” the darker girl sighed, struggling to keep from running her hands through her hair and making it frizz, “Harry and I are just friends, and that’s all either of us want to be.”

“Just wait and see!” Kristen sing-songed, her gaze wandering back to the movie in front of her. “But when I’m right, you’ll have to be my slave for a whole week, which includes doing my laundry.”

Danielle shuddered at the thought. “Whatever. It’s not like you’re going to win anyway.”

Without another word to her pushy roommate, Danielle slipped out of the flat, making sure to lock the door behind her, and headed to the shopping center where she and Harry had agreed to meet.



The shopping center was incredibly crowded, the teenagers desperate to find a place to congregate over the weekend. Their voices and laughs carried, making the inside almost as noisy and chaotic as the London streets outside. Though, granted, the air was of a better quality.

As usual, Harry was running late, so Danielle made herself comfortable leaning against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her small chest. A few people gave her curious looks as they walked by, their arms covered with bags from various shops. They probably wondered what she was up to, the tall, young, slender girl, just loitering in front of a shop without showing signs of moving anytime soon.

But soon, after a long time of pretending to go through her phone to avoid the stares that were starting to make her uncomfortable, Harry appeared. He was grinning widely, exposing the dimples in his cheeks, but he had an apologetic look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for making you wait,” he granted. “Traffic was terrible.”

“I can imagine,” she agreed, knowing that London streets were among the worst in the world for driving. It was why she usually liked to walk to her destinations whenever possible, but Harry rarely wanted to take the alternate route.

As the two stepped through the doorway into Harry’s favorite store, the smell of musky cologne immediately smacking the two friends in the face, Danielle asked, “So what kind of party is it?”

“A birthday party,” he answered casually, shifting a series of shirts aside that were certainly too small for his long frame. “So I don’t want anything too dressy, you know?”

Danielle nodded, understanding his choice. He wanted something that would make him look nice for pictures, but he wouldn’t care if he spilled cake and beer on it. So, in essence, something very much along the lines of what he usually wore.

She picked out a couple pairs of jeans for him, along with a few t-shirts that she thought would look lovely with his skin tone, a black vest, and a couple button-down shirts, and she threw a few articles of clothing at a time over the door of his dressing room as he chatted with her.

“You know, I could bring you along to the party, too, if you wanted,” Harry told her in a slightly muffled voice, probably because he was talking through the fabric of whatever shirt he decided to try on first. “It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know if I can,” she lied. In reality, she just wanted to have a week where she could stay at home and relax instead of having to live to impress people.

“I want you to, though.” His voice was almost like a whimper, and it took everything Danielle had to keep from chuckling at him. “And there’s someone that I really want you to meet that will be there.”

“Someone you want me to meet?” she repeated, unable to contain her curiosity. “And who would this mystery person be?”

“If I tell you, it wouldn’t be so mysterious.” He opened the door, donning the light blue shirt Danielle had picked out, and she promptly shook her head.

“Try the green,” she directed, and he disappeared again.

“So will you go?” Harry continued the previous conversation, acting like the encounter in between hadn’t happened. “You could carry me home when I get too drunk to walk!”

“Tempting,” she commented drily. Finally, she let out a breath, knowing that she really couldn’t hold her own against Harry for long. “But alright, I’ll go. As long as I don’t actually have to drag your plastered arse home afterward.”

“I’ll figure something else out,” he laughed. The door opened again, and he revealed the dark green t-shirt.

“Much better,” Danielle approved with a smile. “Now put the vest over it and let me see.”

“It’s too short,” he whined, glancing back at it.

“No, it’s supposed to hit kind of short.” She stepped around him and took the black piece of clothing off the hanger, signaling him to put it on again.

But instead of it hitting just above his belt like it was supposed to, it ended about two inches too soon making it look like the article had shrunken in the wash or Harry had a random, unneeded growth spurt.

“You’re a freak,” Danielle informed him, affection coloring her tone. “I’ll go get you a size up.”

He didn’t even pretend to be offended as he pulled the door closed after him, announcing that he was going to try on the jeans to see which looked best with the cumulative look, while Danielle hurried across the store to run the errand.