XI. Grounded

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Harry

The night before was a mess. My dad was out late, so the boys, Myra, and Alexis came over and it turns out driving in circles around our field was a very stupid idea. The truck was completely covered in dirt and I was grounded for three days. 

Not only were we under the influence of alcohol, but I popped one of the tires on the truck and sure enough my ass gets caught immediately. 

I used the hose to wash down the dirt and a few sponges and soap. My shoes were kicked off and I was standing in the bare grass in front of our garage, a very disgusting truck next to me. While my father insisted that this will let me reflect on my actions, Max wanted to join me. 

He scrubbed the rims because I was too busy to bend down. I stood off to the side, gazing up at my front door when my father came outside. He walks down the porch and towards me, and sees that Max is scrubbing rims.

"Seriously? This is your punishment, Harold," my father scolds lightly, shaking his head. "Max, buddy, get up from there." 

Max looks up at dad. "I'm good! I like this," he beams up at my father, and I know damn well he's going to let it slide because no one can say no to Max when he's got that grin on his face. 

I send my dad a smug grin. He points his index finger at me warningly. "Shut up," is all he remarks.

My laugh is audible as I say, "This is not much of a punishment." 

"Are you asking for a bad one?" 

"No," I chuckle. "But I really am sorry, dad. I do crazy things all the time, and I'm sorry I disappointed you."

He sighs and waves his hand in the air. "I'm not disappointed. More angry that you guys were drinking is all. And that tire money is coming out of your allowance, by the way."

"Well aware." 

"Don't do it again. Or I'll really be pissed off and the punishment will be much worse than this," he warns me, and I nod in understanding. "Also, put on a damn shirt. Eight girls already stopped by to stare and you've only been out here for like fifteen minutes." 

I gaze down at myself. No shirt, just a pair of  jeans that surely are ripped at the knees. When I looked up at him, I shrugged. He then adds, "Why did I let you get all those tattoos, anyway?" 

"Because you're the best dad in the whole world," I teased with a grin. 

He scoffs. "Only because I let you do whatever the hell you want." 

"If Harry can do what he wants, why can't I?" Max questions with a frown. 

Dad crosses his arms over his chest. "Because Harry's focused on his girlfriend and he's an idiot. You, buddy, are not at that stage yet."

"I like Sally. She could be my girlfriend," Max suggests, and I immediately start laughing as dad rolls his eyes. 

"Seriously," he mutters. 

"He is a Styles," I laughed, looking down at Max. "Have you tried holding her hand, yet?" When he nods, I laugh louder and shake my head. "He even tried stealing Alexis from me the other day."

"You two have fun cleaning up the truck. I think I'm going to take a nap," he says to us before turning around. He leaves and soon it's just Max and I, occasionally pointing the running hose on him and soaking the back of his red t-shirt in cold water.

He screams and shoots me an angry glare. "Harry, you're annoying!" 

The last time I do it, he throws the soapy sponge at me. As a result, I laugh and throw it back at him. We're talking about the football match that I promised him to go to when the neighbor's cat, jumps on the top of the truck just as I was going to rinse off that spot.

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