Day Drinking and Dimples
Pounding rain wakes me from a restless sleep. Or maybe it's the incessant ringing of my phone. Bracing myself for the inevitable, I swipe right and answer the call.
"Are you still in bed? Get dressed. I'm taking you to lunch."
"Good morning to you too, Leah."
"Lose the attitude, Swan. I know you hate your birthday, but you only turn 21 once. You're not spending the day in sweatpants, watching Netflix. I know you're off work. You have thirty minutes. Get dressed."
Before I can respond to my bossy step-sister, she disconnects the call. Leah Clearwater is not one to be trifled with, so I do as I'm told. Twenty-eight minutes later, I hear the horn sound from below my apartment. With one final cleansing breath, I head out to join her.
When Leah turns onto the highway heading out of Forks, I get nervous. "You said you were taking me to lunch. The diner is in the opposite direction."
"For God's sake, Bella. Do you think I'm taking you to the diner where you work for your birthday? We're going to a new bar in Port Angeles."
"A bar? At 11:30 in the morning?"
"It's your 21st. You have to day drink."
Chuckling at her insistence, I decide she's right. I never go out or let myself lose control or just live in the moment. I'm always planning and saving for the future. Just this once, I'm going to push responsible Bella away.
Three hours and countless beers later, I'm having the time of my life. Leah and I quickly made friends with the hunky bartender. Since it's my birthday, he's only been charging Leah for a fraction of what I've been consuming. With the infrequency that I drink, combined with my size, I know I need to slow down, or I'm going to make a fool of myself. I'm already starting to wish people a happy birthday in return.
When I start singing Happy Birthday to a stranger for the third time, Leah insists I've had enough. She gets me to the car with the help of the bartender, and we head back to Forks. Leah leaves me with a bottle of water and aspirin, and I don't expect to hear from her until tomorrow morning.
With a groan, I roll back out of bed when she knocks on my door, foregoing the pants I just peeled off.
Except it's not Leah. It's the bartender. I tug my shirt down as far it'll go. "Um. Hi."
"I'm sorry to show up like this," he says. "I recognized you from the apartment complex, but I didn't want to make it awkward if you didn't recognize me. I moved in last month—2B. I just wanted to make sure you got home."
His dimples make an appearance when he smiles, and I melt into the floor at his sweetness.
I think Emmett just became my favorite neighbor.
Written by: Sophiacorgi (Judge)
Prompt: (919): Every time someone would wish me happy birthday I would be like "thanks happy birthday to you too."
