nights; h.s.

53

fifty-three

harry

I woke up to some not so soft banging. I shot upwards and looked around my half-asleep body for context. I was in my car? Parked at school? And it was daytime? I turned my head slowly to find the cause of the noise only to see Brooklyn's worried face at the window. I sighed, rubbing my dry eyes and rolling down the window.

"Yeah." I responded dryly.

"Morning, I brought you lunch." She beamed, "I'm not hungry. I just wanna sleep some more. Sorry-" I shut her down. She shook her head.

"Harry, we need to talk. I literally bought you McDonald's can you spare 5 minutes?" She pleaded.

"Brooklyn-"

"Please. For me?"

I accepted, unlocking the car. Brooklyn seemed pleased and rushed over to the passenger seat, immediately sitting turned to face me with a bag of fast food in her brown lap.

"Harry, what the fuck is going on with you? With us? You slept through first and second period for the second time this week, you're always avoiding me, we never ever talk... What's happening? Are you cheating on me?" She asked in hot, hushed, hurt whisper.

"Cheating! What, no why would I ever cheat on you? And with who?" I exclaimed making her roll her big brown eyes. "Then, what's really happening! Why are you so tired all the time? Why don't you eat with me anymore? Why don't you wanna be around me?"

"What— Brooklyn, you're literally being crazy. I'm fine, everything's fine, we're fine," I slid my hand under the McDonald's bag and between her soft legs, "Okay?" I whispered.

Then.. She slapped my hand.

"No, it's not fucking okay! Harry, stop lying to me!" Brooklyn shouted suddenly. I was taken aback. At that moment, it was clear what the right thing to do was. Then, I decided not to do it.

"God, not everything has to be about you! Don't you get that? I can have a life too! I can have my own shit going on, that doesn't automatically mean I'm fucking some other dumb bitch!" I snapped at the girl on the brim of tears.

She scoffed, rolling her glossy eyes to the window, "Other... right, so that's what I am to you?"

"That's not what I meant-" I placed a soft hand on her shoulder.

"You know what? I don't need this, I don't need you. Enjoy your fucking burger, asshole!" She screamed, throwing the bag of food at me making a lettuce and fry explosion onto my black skinny jeans. She stomped out of my truck and slammed the passenger door shut rushing back into the main building to continue her lunch break.

—

Like most days, school was the last place I wanted to be. With final exams days away and me not having listened to a word out of any of my teachers mouth for weeks now let alone not touching or even reading any of my notes, being in class just stressed me out.

Frankly, I didn't care.

I didn't care about my marks, didn't care about my future, didn't care about getting my scholarship renewed, didn't care that I was 100% alone— all I cared about right now was Nana.

So, I drove out of the school parking lot and to the hospital, where I sat alone at a long white bench in the cafeteria eating my Big Mac and fries that was in complete shambles.

The big room wasn't empty, but figuring it was around 12:30 in the afternoon and most of the patients relatives are at some kind of nine-to-five, it was mostly just filled with patients who were well enough to get their own disgusting hospital food.

A pale girl in a pink polka dot bathrobe with a scarf tied on her head sat on a table infront of a brunette boy in a wheelchair so far behind me that it didn't feel wrong to ease drop onto their conversation.

Just as I was about to leave, A girl sat down infront of me. I had seen her around the hospital many times before- she was thin, pale, and had short brown hair, with big circular gold framed glasses. As usual she was dressed in some sort of baggy sweatshirt and leggings. I guess the overwhelming cloud of loneliness that's been hovering over me recently took over because I kind of wanted to talk to her. I figured she felt the same way because I was one of the 5 other people in a gigantic cafeteria full of empty seats.

"Hello," she greeted me first, her British accent thick.

"Hi?" I said, a little confused.

"My name is Clara Wargington and I am actually going to kill myself." She introduced herself calmly. I couldn't help but crack a one sided smile. "Are you joking?" I responded, hoping the answer was yes.

"I've been saying that for a while now.. and I'm beginning to question if I'm joking too." She said. I smiled fully.

"I have accumulated over £200 in parking tickets over the last two weeks, my bank account just got locked for insufficient funds, haven't paid my rent in 3 months, not to mention I just got laid off, and now my moms sick and I have to pay for all the fucking treatment so my life is just... up." She ranted.

"Do you usually tell your life story to strangers?"

"No, but my favourite bar is closed and I currently don't have any friends."

"Well, then you can consider me one. I'm Harry"

"..Then shave."

"Shut up."