The Encounter
Harry walks around the house, searching for her idiot brother. He decided to attend a party, most likely at the request of his friend Greg, and insisted that she come along. She usually enjoys parties, but this one is full of her little brother's friends. She lasted a full ten minutes before succumbing to the call of alcohol. She had hoped the alcohol would make being there more bearable. It appears she is out of luck, not that she ever had any to begin with.
Unable to find her brother, she makes her way back to the kitchen for more alcohol. This may not be the best idea, but she no longer cares. Just as she begins to take a sip, or more likely chug the full cup she just poured herself, someone speaks.
"Drowning in your sorrows?"
Harry turns around to find herself face to face with Irene, who is perhaps the most envied girl at school and for good reason. She's gorgeous for one, but she's also known for being intelligent or cunning to be more precise, and she's also very self-confident.
"Not at all, more like drowning in boredom."
"Oh? Well that's unfortunate. Maybe I can help." Most people use the expression 'maybe I can help' as a suggestion, not Irene. She stands there completely sure of herself. If Harry was a lesser being, she would be intimidated and spill her drink all over herself. Fortunately for her, she's not.
Harry just lifts up her chin and smirks. "You seem awfully sure of yourself."
Irene smiles predatorily, "Yes." She steps closer. "I am." She observes the slight changes in Harry's visage, the slight flush of her cheeks, the blown pupils, and the way she seems unsure of whether to freeze or flee from under observation.
Harry steels herself and forces herself to be calm. "You have good reason to be."
"I know. The only question was whether you knew. Now that we have that sorted, we can make this party quite a bit more interesting." As she speaks, her voice slowly lowers to a whisper and her head slowly moves closer to Harry's ear. When she finishes speaking, she kisses Harry's cheek and pulls back slowly.
Irene walks away gracefully, saying over her shoulder, "Whenever you're ready dear, I'll be waiting."
Harry doesn't even think, as she sets down her glass and follows.