Thursday Nights | ✓

THREE | 4/16/15

     "So, does being eighteen feel any different?"

     "I haven't been eighteen long enough to tell you that," Harrison smiles, which is kind of odd to see, "I'm sure you know how it feels."

     "I've been eighteen for three months. Honestly, it doesn't feel any different," I explain.

     "I can vote now," he thoughtfully mentions.

     "How thrilling," I say in a monotone before pausing, "Wait, you're eighteen."

     "I've realized."

     "If you get arrested for something major, you could go to state prison," I frown in concern, "and today was your third arrest."

     "That's why I won't get arrested again," Harrison grins, taking off the glasses he wore with his costume, "for something major, that is."

     "You're hopeless," I mutter, "so utterly hopeless."

     He sobers up, "Seriously, I won't do anything terribly wrong. You can trust me on that."

     I fall silent, hoping that he will stop whatever he's doing. However, this is his choice, and I can't do anything to stop him. Both of us remain quiet until I realize what time it is.

     "Your parents are pretty late."

     "I know," Harrison mutters darkly.

     I open my mouth to reply, but my dad slams open the door to his office in a rush, talking into his radio. He barks a few commands before directing his attention towards me, "Arden, if Harrison's parents show up, can you take care of it?"

     I immediately shoot up from where I sit, disregarding what he just said to me, "What happened?"

     "Car accident," he says before quickly jogging out of the room.

     I turn to Harrison with wide eyes, "Oh god, what if it's bad?"

     He puts on a soft, reassuring expression, which I'm thankful for, "I'm sure it's okay."

     I gesture towards the exit, blurting out my greatest fear, "Every time my dad steps out of that door, I become terrified. Anything can happen at anytime."

     Harrison gets up from his bench, walking as close to the bars as he can, "Arden, he's just going to check out the scene."

     I let out a breath, "I know."

     "Good," Harrison firmly nods before changing the subject, "Shouldn't you be home?"

     "You're here, and someone's gotta keep you company."

     "I'm glad you care about me that much," he jokes, still standing by the bars, somewhat cautiously watching me.

     "After your parents collect you, I'm leaving," I faintly smile, "Gotta finish my homework, and y'know, sleep.

     It's not until fifteen minutes later when Harrison's older brother comes to pick up the younger man up. He looks about twenty-one. His lips are drawn into a frown, making his attractive face less pleasing to look at.

     "Nate," Harrison greets awkwardly, "What're you doing here? Where's Mom and Dad?"

     "They're tired of your shit, Harrison," Nate bluntly says, "So, they made me take you home."

     Harrison looks apologetic, hands clasped, head hanging down. It takes everything in me not to hug him, "Okay."

     Nate overlooks me, peering towards the desk, "Where's the Sheriff?"

     "Uh," I cut in, stepping into his view, "the Sheriff isn't here at the moment. I'm his daughter."

     "Great," Nate mutters, which makes me frown. He doesn't have to be rude.

     "Yeah, well, you'll just have to deal with it," I go to my dad's desk, looking for a certain paper, "Here, sign this."

     A few more minutes pass, then I finally unlock the cell door and let Harrison out. He thanks me with a smile before the siblings leave the station. I hang back for a little, waiting for my dad's arrival, but he doesn't come.

     I leave the station in despair.

__________________________

It is not that easy to get bailed out of jail, kids.

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--islandarc

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