THREE | 4/16/15
   
     TODAY HAS BEEN a terrible day for me. First, I got a bad grade in AP Government. Then, I left school later than usual because nobody helped clean up the supplies for the mural. Now, Panera Bread decided to have tons of people in line, delaying me even further. And now, my car won't start, leaving me frustrated and helpless.

     I dial my dad's number, wondering if he's heading to the station right now. He picks up the phone on the third ring, "Arden?"

     "Hi, Dad. Can you pick me up?"

     There's concern in his voice when he says, "Yeah, of course. What happened?"

      "My car won't start at all," I let out a frustrated sigh.

     "Where are you?"

     "I'm sitting in front of Panera."

     "Okay, I'll be over there in five minutes," he tells me, "I'll send someone over to take care of your car."

     He doesn't show up until fifteen minutes later with a sheepish smile, and a familiar seventeen-now-eighteen-year-old in the back seat. When I said that I'll be seeing Harrison around, I didn't necessarily think it would be in a police car.

     "Sorry, sweetheart," my dad apologizes.

     I shrug my shoulders, and then rest my head against the window. I try not to be annoyed at my dad, but I can't help it. Today isn't a good day at all.

     "You're forgetting something," chimes a smug voice, which can only be associated with Harrison Gage.

     "Happy fucking birthday," I mutter. From the corner of my eye, I see him smirk in triumph.

     Once we get to the station, I quickly exit the police car and enter the building, feeling absolute exhaustion catching up to me. I place dinner on my dad's desk before collapsing onto a chair. I shut my eyes, causing me to drift off a few times.

     "Arden," I don't immediately sit up, "Why don't you go home early?"

     "S'fine," I mumble, "I'll eat then go."

     I look over to Harrison, who is lazily grinning, dressed up like... Harry Potter? I genuinely don't know whether to smack him or fangirl, but I ultimately decide that I'm too bummed out to do anything. However, his costume is perfect, which makes me smile a little bit.

     "Harry Potter?" I question, "You're required to tell me what you did tonight."

     Before he starts speaking, my dad kindly gives Harrison some food, "Well, I went into a bakery, started shouting random spells, and refused to leave when they tried kicking me out."

     "I don't know why I gave you food," my dad complains, running a hand through his graying hair.

     I lightly laugh, feeling slightly better than before, "That's amazing. So, was this intentionally meant for your birthday?"

     "No," he drawls, sarcasm dripping from his words, "I dressed like this because I wanted to go to a Halloween party in April."

     "I mean, that could be true," I point out, taking a bite out of my grilled cheese sandwich.

     Harrison sighs, "I love the books, okay?"

     "Clearly."

     As we continue talking, my mood lifts up every second. I don't know why Harrison, of all people, is able to make me feel better on my worst days. We barely know each other, but I still get a sense of comfort from him. Even if he is imprisoned, it doesn't change the fact that he's routine now.

     "So, does being eighteen feel any different?"

     "I haven't been eighteen long enough to tell you that," Harrison smiles, which is kind of odd to see, "I'm sure you know how it feels."

     "I've been eighteen for three months. Honestly, it doesn't feel any different," I explain.

     "I can vote now," he thoughtfully mentions.

     "How thrilling," I say in a monotone before pausing, "Wait, you're eighteen."

     "I've realized."

     "If you get arrested for something major, you could go to state prison," I frown in concern, "and today was your third arrest."

     "That's why I won't get arrested again," Harrison grins, taking off the glasses he wore with his costume, "for something major, that is."

     "You're hopeless," I mutter, "so utterly hopeless."

     He sobers up, "Seriously, I won't do anything terribly wrong. You can trust me on that."

     I fall silent, hoping that he will stop whatever he's doing. However, this is his choice, and I can't do anything to stop him. Both of us remain quiet until I realize what time it is.

     "Your parents are pretty late."

     "I know," Harrison mutters darkly.

     I open my mouth to reply, but my dad slams open the door to his office in a rush, talking into his radio. He barks a few commands before directing his attention towards me, "Arden, if Harrison's parents show up, can you take care of it?"

     I immediately shoot up from where I sit, disregarding what he just said to me, "What happened?"

     "Car accident," he says before quickly jogging out of the room.

     I turn to Harrison with wide eyes, "Oh god, what if it's bad?"

     He puts on a soft, reassuring expression, which I'm thankful for, "I'm sure it's okay."

     I gesture towards the exit, blurting out my greatest fear, "Every time my dad steps out of that door, I become terrified. Anything can happen at anytime."

     Harrison gets up from his bench, walking as close to the bars as he can, "Arden, he's just going to check out the scene."

     I let out a breath, "I know."

     "Good," Harrison firmly nods before changing the subject, "Shouldn't you be home?"

     "You're here, and someone's gotta keep you company."

     "I'm glad you care about me that much," he jokes, still standing by the bars, somewhat cautiously watching me.

     "After your parents collect you, I'm leaving," I faintly smile, "Gotta finish my homework, and y'know, sleep.

     It's not until fifteen minutes later when Harrison's older brother comes to pick up the younger man up. He looks about twenty-one. His lips are drawn into a frown, making his attractive face less pleasing to look at.

     "Nate," Harrison greets awkwardly, "What're you doing here? Where's Mom and Dad?"

     "They're tired of your shit, Harrison," Nate bluntly says, "So, they made me take you home."

     Harrison looks apologetic, hands clasped, head hanging down. It takes everything in me not to hug him, "Okay."

     Nate overlooks me, peering towards the desk, "Where's the Sheriff?"

     "Uh," I cut in, stepping into his view, "the Sheriff isn't here at the moment. I'm his daughter."

     "Great," Nate mutters, which makes me frown. He doesn't have to be rude.

     "Yeah, well, you'll just have to deal with it," I go to my dad's desk, looking for a certain paper, "Here, sign this."

     A few more minutes pass, then I finally unlock the cell door and let Harrison out. He thanks me with a smile before the siblings leave the station. I hang back for a little, waiting for my dad's arrival, but he doesn't come.

     I leave the station in despair.

__________________________

It is not that easy to get bailed out of jail, kids.

vote•comment•follow

--islandarc

p.s. HAPPY  THANKSGIVING!