“You’re not the aggressive type are you?” A strange, male voice breathed in my ear.

 I turned my head to see a guy standing right against me.  He was so close all I could make out were his tan face and light green eyes.

“I’ve just been watching you try to get a drink for the last ten minutes,” he said with a smile that showed he was amused at my struggle. “I think I can help.”     

He shoved his way through the people in front of us, pulling me with him by the waist until we got to the bar.

“Bartender!” he yelled.  Immediately one of the bartenders walked over.

“I’ll have a Miller Lite and for the lady…”  He trailed off looking at me, waiting for an answer.

“Um…I-I….”  I stuttered out.  I wanted another “Sex on the Beach,” but I definitely didn’t want to utter the word “sex” in front of this strange guy.  I wondered if he even knew about the drink, or if he would make the same mistake I did.

 “The lady will have a Long Island Iced Tea,” he ordered for me.

After he got our drinks, he pulled me over to a dark corner of the club.  Now that he wasn’t so close, I could see more of him.  His dirty-blonde hair was neatly coifed, and he was wearing a light blue polo shirt with dark jeans.  Even in this dim light I could make out the handsome features of his face.

“So, what’s your name?”  He leaned in to ask me in my ear, over the loud music.

“Spencer,” I shouted in return, reaching out for a hand shake. 

He looked at my hand amused, before he took it and kissed the back of it.  His eyes began to scan my body, making me even more self-conscious.  I wanted to pull away and find the other girls, but I was afraid of how he would react. Something told me he wasn’t one to give up easily.

“So what’s your name?” I interrupted his leering, hoping to turn his attention back to my face.

 “I’m Nick, I play football for OSU,” he boasted.

“That’s cool, I play basketball.”

“Really?” he asked surprised, looking me over again.  ”You don’t look like it.  What school do you go to?”

I debated whether I should tell the truth. I didn’t want him to get angry because he’d bought me a drink and I wasn’t 21 yet.  But then I realized telling him my real age might get rid of him. 

“I go to high school back in LA.  I’m here for a summer camp”

He studied me for a moment, his expression now serious.

“How old are you? You gotta be 18, right?  To get in this club?

“Not if you have friends in high places,” I laughed nervously.  He stared, waiting for a real answer.  “I’m 17.”

“Oh, that works,” he said, his smile quickly returning.  “So you wanna dance?”

“No, I don’t really dance.”

“Yeah, me either,” he took a step closer. “I prefer to talk to beautiful girls when I find them…among other things.” 

I took a step back to match the one he took forward. I was really getting uncomfortable now and I started thinking of a lie that could accomplish three things: getting away from him, preventing him from following me, and allowing me to avoid him for the rest of the night.

“Aren’t you going to try your drink?” he asked.

“Um, yeah,” I said looking down at it.  His ogling had distracted me so much I forgot I had it.  I raised the cup to my lips, but before I took a sip, it was jerked out of my hand. 

 I turned to see a very angry Ashley now holding my tea.