quaint [h.s.]

seventeen

Harry unwraps his arms around me and I plop on the couch with my head in my hands. I haven't cried like we both thought. But I'm not sad or hopeless. I'm angry.

"This is so frustrating, Harry," I mumble and he sits next to me.

"I know."

"But you'll help me right?"

"Of course."

"You're nice."

"So are you."

I sigh and put my head on his left shoulder. He tenses up a bit, then relaxes quickly afterwards.

"I'll never leave," I mumbled to mostly myself.

"Don't talk like that. Anything could happen.." he said.

"But it's just not looking too good for me. What will I do?" I asked.

"Just wait. It's good to just wait, because if you don't then you will never know what the outcome will be. But maybe in dangerous situations, don't wait. But things like this, you should just relax."

"Okay," I shrugged.

The phone rang and Harry went to answer it, "Hello?"

I watched him as he spoke, "Oh. No. Why? Thats not a good idea at all but whatever.. it's for you."

He held the phone out and I walked over and took it from him, "Hello it's-"

"Doris. It's James and I was wondering if you'd meet me at the park.. the one near the children's orphanage? Could you do it?" James asked.

I smiled, "Sure why not?"

"Great. Now would be nice..."

"All right. Then I'll get going," I clear my throat.

"Okay see you there," and then he hung up and I set the phone on the hook.

"I'll be seeing James right now, I'm not sure when I'll be back but sometime today," I grabbed my jacket.

Harry stood and walked to the bathroom, "Okay have a nice time."

I opened the door and shut it behind me. I went into the drivers seat at the car and stared at the controls. I've never drive this car before. I remember when we saw the movie Scarface and Harry couldn't drive so we had got one of his friends to drive us since I backed down on driving this car. This is one ugly car.

Is Harry even going to show me how to work this? How frustrating. Harry walked outside, "Why aren't you gone?"

"I don't know what to do."

"Oh, right," he says and slides in the passenger.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

He looks at me, "I'm going to show you how to work this car."

"No, can you just drive me there please?"

He shook his head. "I'm Harry, not Jessa's chauffeur."

"Ugh," I groaned.

"Make sure that everything is in running order. Easier said than done I know. Be sure the timing is properly set, or even if you get the car started, it won't run well, if at all," Harry started.

"Oh."

"Then turn on the gas valve that is under the dash on the passenger side. In my car the valve is open when the handle is 90 degrees from the gas line."

"Oh."

He clears his throat, "Push the timing lever on the steering column, the one on the left, up all the way, fully retarded of course.