“Nah, I’m making an effort to behave tonight. For Emmeline’s sake. I mean, who knows? Knowing me, that’ll be out the window after the fifth shot of tequila and that security guard over there will have to escort me off the premises.” Alex laughed a little, rubbing her arm with her left hand. God, she hated this. Every other guy she looked at was easy to talk to, easy to bullshit random pieces of information at them. Hell, she had been all in and about Logan Fucking Hunter, but Xander McAllister was the one causing her existential life issues. “Um… You know, they probably don’t have anymore. We don’t have to go get some, and I don’t have to go alone, and-… And yeah! They’re so over-hyped and insensitive, yeah…” Really she just didn’t want to be eating seafood; it was bad for the baby, right? “We could… get drinks though?” She caught his eye for another brief moment, one shoulder shrugging. In all honesty, part of her kind of wanted their parents to spot them together; one, it would be hilarious to see them react to their children actually getting along and not stuck in competition for once, and two, it might give her a chance to slip away before her flushed cheeks start showing through her make-up.
“Wait, she was fighting with Mrs Huntzberger?” Alex was such a sucker for the drama. So much so that she finally met his gaze for longer than two seconds. “The old one or the new one? Does your dad ever actually stop? I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen him at one of these before. But, uh… yeah, they’re both here. God forbid they ever miss an event. I-… Well hey, I don’t think they have the authority here, but maybe you should keep your distance. Just in case.”
“I think that’s a great idea. And you know Emmeline will appreciate it. She’s really pulling out all the stops tonight. You’ve got to promise to call me before you get escorted out, though. I missed the last one, and I want this on video to commemorate the experience.” Playfully teasing her seemed to be the best route to go here, the only way it felt like they both had even footing in the conversation. Otherwise it was just too damn awkward. “Right, that’s exactly what I was thinking. It’s better to just--what is it my mom’s always saying?--Use our platform to make a statement. Sure, she usually means it about the upper classes standing up for the working class, but I’m pretty sure we can use it here, too.” It was clearly the right thing to have agreed on, because she was asking him for drinks, and that was pretty much the only positive improvement they’d seen for the night. He wasn’t even really sure why he wanted them to get along tonight. It just seemed....nicer, after everything. “We can do drinks. Although you might want to stick to spritzer. That prediction about the security guard is kinda haunting me, now.” He laughed, grateful that she was warming up a little. She’d always been so reserved around him growing up, no-doubt because of their parents feud, and to have finally coaxed her out of whatever funk she’d been in felt like a win.
“Yeah. I thought it was going to come to fisticuffs. Something about hemlines and damaging young girls self-esteem. I stopped listening after she mentioned modern feminism and insulted Mrs. Huntzberger’s spider veins. The old one. Although they both have a lot of spider veins. I don’t think he does, actually. He probably has dreams about the office when he’s away. Yeah, your parents kind of scare me in that area. They’re always here, and looking so...perfect. Like those plastic mannequins in Eleanor Waldorf’s store windows. Oh, uh...is that you asking--I mean, do you want me--” He clears his throat. “Are you asking me to keep my distance?”