Two Broken Souls

chapter three

"You could speed up a little." Harry mumbled, leaning over to check the speedometer, which revealed I was sitting five miles under the speed limit.

I gave him a side eye. "You could've made your bus." I counter.

I was hunched over the steering wheel and starting to sweat. I haven't driven anyone besides my friends and they don't make me feel as nervous.

I've only had my licence for a couple of months now.
And it took me almost two years and all my saved birthday and Chritsmas money for me to buy this car. I'm pretty sure I'm not even supposed to be driving him and there is no way I'll risk losing my license over trying to get him home.

Harry leaned forward and messed with my radio. I didn't say anything because at least he was keep g busy. There is an old CD in there from the previous owner, but I haven't been able to get it out yet.

After a few minutes of him messing with the stereo, he finally landed on a station he liked enough and sat back. We listened to the radio in silence together. Occasionally, he would hum along. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and tried to focus on the music.

"So," he dragged out the word. "What did Alders want?" Harry casually asked. It was too casual, almost like he knew what Alders was going to ask me.

I ignored the question by laughing and Harry seemed to have gotten the message.

Harry messed with his seat belt. "Man, I could kill for some coffee right now." He mumbled as we passed a small plaza filled with different shops. One of those shops being a coffee shop that most of the high school kids hang out at after school. It's close enough to school to walk for the underclassman.

I ignored that too, but he was right. Living in California is fun, but since it's the middle of March, the weather is all over the place and right now everywhere you go feels like a sauna.

Harry tried to keep his smile to a minimum as I made a U-turn into the plaza and parked. I relaxed my fingers from the steering wheel, aware for the first time of how tightly I'd been clenching my muscles.

There was a small line forming outside already, and although we haven't been outside for long, the top of my head was already absorbed an alarming amount of afternoon sun, which continues to beat down around us. Harry wipes his forehead with his arm.

The coffee shop he wanted, Coffee Bros, was at the very end of the strip, a lone sign of life in an otherwise deserted row of storefronts. Oldies music floats over the din of the crowd, and it's livelier than I expected because school is still in session for the other grades.

Inside, everything gleams white, as severe and comforting as a school bathroom. By the window there's a wooden ledge, where you can sip your drink while enjoying a lovely vista of the parking lot.

"There are a lot of options," Harry says, as we both check out the menu.

The prep area behind the counter is thronged with employees, and one of them, in the process of pouring creamy liquid over ice, catches sight of us. He's wearing rectangular-rimmed glasses and a black apron that says I'm one of the bros.

"Welcome to Coffee Bros!" he bellows, beckoning us forward. "What can I get started for you guys?" His name tag read "Ian."

I gestured for Harry to order first and all he got was three iced latte. Weird, but alright. I ordered the closest thing to an iced peppermint drink they had.

Harry handed Ian his card. "Coming right up." Ian hits some buttons on his tablet.

Harry and I head over to the end of the counter as we wait for our drinks. Exposed Edison bulbs hang low from the ceiling, and Harry bats at one playfully. 
I catch Harry staring at me like he's trying to study my face. "What?" I ask. I subconsciously wipe my face after that.

He made a face. "You drink peppermint?"

I laugh. Everyone always finds it funny. "You're judging me? You ordered three of the same drinks."

Harry stepped forward, trying to intimated me. "I bought those drinks for my siblings. What's your excuse?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "It tastes good. I work at Rosie's coffee shop and I experiment with it all the time."

"You got hired at a coffee shop with a peppermint drink being your go to order?" He mocked.

I was about to respond, when our drinks were finished. Harry handed me mine and put all three of his same ones in a drink carrier.

As we make our way out, a crowed of baseball players wearing Wilson High unfimors rushed in. It's barely three o'clock. There is no way they could've won their game already and who gets coffee before playing a baseball game.

Some of them see Harry and stop him to have a small conversation with him. "How's it going?" one of them says to me while the other slaps his back.

"Hey, Mia." Nick waved to me.

Nick and I have had a couple classes together throughout the years, before he transferred schools. We were never really friends. I held up one pointer and index finger and saluted him instead of responding. I always hated when people who don't really know me say hi. It's not like we talk at school, we don't have to do it off of school grounds either.

Once Harry finished his conversation, he led me out of the coffee shop by placing his hand on my lower back. It kinda felt nice. I haven't been touched like that in awhile.

"You're popular here," I whisper.

He stiffens and removes his hand. "I used to be."

The rest of the drive back to Harry's house was a silent one. He didn't make any effort to start a conversation, so I let it be. He didn't even want the radio playing.

I pulled into the driveway of his house, it didn't look like anyone else was home yet. Harry quickly got out of my car, that he almost forgot to grab his backpack from the backseat. "I owe you, thanks." He said.
I half smile at him. "Don't mention it." I said as Harry walked off.

Harry didn't live far from me, only a ten minute drive. But as I drove myself home, I realized that Harry wasn't in his baseball uniform today. I don't know if Langston had a game today, but wouldn't he have had practice at least?

I pulled into my apartment complex. There is no assigned parking so it's a guessing game every time I come home. Usually there is one open spot by where I live and today I got lucky.

I sit with my hands on the wheel, while I finish my drink and I think about how easy it would be to just keep sitting here.

I close my eyes.

I lean back.

I rest my hands on my lap.

Most days, I don't feel much, except maybe a little sleepy. I don't have the energy to keep doing this anymore. I don't have it in me to keep fighting. It's been going on for so long, I just don't even feel like a person anymore.