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"Dude, I can see your bra," Helen pointed out in exasperation as she stepped out of her closet in what had to be the fourth outfit she'd tried on since Harley had arrived, and God only knew what the over all number was at this point. "And I don't ********' know. This is your scene, not mine. I don't do the club thing." How Harley had managed to talk Helen into going bar hopping for her twenty first birthday was still a mystery to her.

Dark brows narrows as she finally connected a few logical dots. "You're two years younger than me, how are you even going to get in?" And more to that, how was she this knowledgeable about all this s**t?

Realizing how shitty her tone was starting to sound Helen held a hand up in defeat as she drew in a deep breath and let out in a huff through her nose, head shaking. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. You pick the place, figure out the transportation, since you know the drill."

Dropping her hands to her sides, she did a slow turn so the other girl could see the outfit she'd changed into this time. "Look, this is probably as good as it's going to get. I own anything like that," she gestured at Harley's ensemble, frowning, unsure.

Helen heaved a massive sigh, her shoulders sagging as she leveled a narrow-eyed look at her best friend. "You saying it doesn't make it true." Her, a hot piece of a**? Surely not. The very idea had her wrinkling her nose before she was forced to nudge her glasses up again as they began to slip.

"And no thank you, My boobs aren't nearly that impressive." When it'd come to the curves department Harley had made bank while Helen had felt she'd been shafted. At least she'd scored in the height department though. Harley's heels leveled the playing field a bit, but Helen knew the truth. She was fine in her flats.

She'd been doing a dandy job of remaining sullen and surly until her friend offered to do a little mini make over, and Helen's glower softened, features looking unsure for a moment. "Yeah, you probably should." If Harley was any sort of measuring rod for the evening Helen knew she was going to stand out like a sore thumb. Her clothing definitely wasn't on par, and she hadn't bothered with make-up because she really didn't wanna look like a raccoon, and the night of her 21st birthday was not the time to be practicing eyeliner wings and blending techniques.

Which, she might add, she wasn't sure she wanted to master anyways.

Mention of an arcade had her perking up again, though.

Helen eyed the very see through shirt again before making a face, lips drawing back in halfa grimace. "Ah, no. I think I'll stick with whati have on. It looks better on you." For certain. Besides, Helen doubted very much she'd be able to relax enough to enjoy herself if she was that exposed, she wouldn't be comfortable. That Harley was was impressive and enviable, but she always had been the more advebturous one. Exuding confidence.

She say patiently as her friend applied the light touche touches of makeup and tried to remain still as the liner was applied to her eyes, but how anyone managed that, she didn't know. But apparently she hadn't donetoo badly because she didn't quite recognize herself in the mirror when Harley was done, the dark coal around her eyes made them pop almost unnaturally. It was a little startling, but not ina bad way.

She was quiet on the drive over, and as they stepped out onto the sidewalk in front ofa club she might have been holding onto Harley a littlemore tightly than was absolutely necessary.

Harley handled the cover and the door, and the next thing Helen knew they're were standing in the middle ofaloud club with bodies all around them. "Um." Bright eyes scanned the dancefloor and then the bar at the question. "Maybe drinks." If Harley wanted her to dance she thoughta little social lubricant might be a good idea.

Harley's reassurance that they could go if Helen started getting overwhelmed or really just didn't like the club scene was appreciative, and she smiled sidelong at her friend, tipping her head to bump her temple gently against Harley's as they made their way through the crowd to the bar.

She kept her hands curled loosely around the other girl's arm as she ordered, leaning into her side as they waited for the bartender to mix their drinks. Something easy, Harley had said, to start with. "Sounds good to me," she mused, pale eyes dancing over the colorful bottles lining the shelves that lined the back wall.

A hand on her thigh snapped her back to attention and she tensed, lips tugging back from her teeth and what would have been a snarl had she not realized who that hand belonged to. Features smoothed, color rushing up to darken pale cheeks as she ducked her head.

The bartender returned with their drinks and Helen reached for her's immediately, grateful for the distraction, and brought it up for a long drink. And to her relief, she found the drink sweet, bubbly, delicious.

She didn't even notice the boys that had been eyeing them.

A non-drinker, Helen felt the first faint effects of the alcohol almost immediately in the form of a warmish rush flowing outward and down through her legs. It was strange, enough that it made her pause for just a second, but as she caught sight of the group of boys headed their way she tipped the glass back again, taking another larger swallow before they reached them.

Harley's subtle shift was expert and sly, and Helen couldn't help the grateful little smile that tugged at dark lips before the silver haired girl was leaning in to whisper in her ear. Proximity had her reaching up automatically to lay a hand on Harl's hip, close enough that it was more natural to touch than not to have.

Light fingers slid along her friend's side as she turned to greet the leader of the pack, and blue eyes flicked from him, to Harley, and then back to the rest of the boys that'd followed along.

The grin one of them was directing at her caught Helen a little off guard and she blinked back at him before offering what was likely a very nervous smile. All the while practically clinging to her best friend's side.

A drink was being offered up to her and that was when Helen realized her first drink was actually empty and it was time to set it back on the bar. Murmuring a thanks to Harley she did just that before taking the offered drink to sip at it cautiously, then a little more enthusiastically when she realized it too had a sweet and fruity taste.

"This is really good." It wasn't the answer to the question her friend had directed back at her, but it'd have to serve. That and the light smile that'd settled on painted lips as the warmth of the buzz settled over her like a comforting blanket.

Straw trapped between her lips, she slung an arm over one of Harley's shoulders and leaned in against her back.

She wasn't really all that interested in talking to any of the boys that'd headed over to them, free-drinks or not, so she was mostly quiet as Harl chit-chatted, but she'd drop a comment or two where applicable, and otherwise enjoyed the music and the tingling in her fingertips as she nursed the delightfully fruity concoction in her hand.

Why does she smell so good?

Was it her shampoo? some other hair styling product? Maybe perfume? Helen couldn't tell what the delightful scent she kept catching with every move her best friend made, but it was amazing whatever it was. Left her wanting to press her face in close to the side of the other girl's neck just so she could flood her senses with it.

Wait, that's weird... The thought was a fleeting one, there one moment and gone the next as Harley shifted to get them moving again. The boys were walking away, not exactly happy with having been shooed off, but Helen was relieved with there absence, happily allowing the other girl to drag her along towards the mass of moving bodies on the dance floor.

It should have terrified her. It usually would have, she had no rhythm, no clue how the hell to dance, but she was buzzed enough that just this once that didn't seem to matter. Harley's arm's slipped around her, holding her close, and as she moved Helen moved with her, cheeks pink with what was at this point an unfading flush. Not just the drinks, but the close proximity, the movements, all of it.