Thursday Nights | ✓

THREE | 4/16/15

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.