nights; h.s.

5

five

Thursday ended, I sat in Mrs. Michaels room with Harry for lunch, and as much as I begged him for information about the band he wouldn't tell me anything.

"You'll love them, I promise," he repeated over and over again. Honestly, I didn't want to go. Not one part of me wanted to go. Before lunch ended he asked me for my address, and I gave it to him. He told me he'd pick me up at around 7 and right after that he disappeared and I didn't see him again.

Did Harry like me?

No, that can't be possible. I mean- I'm me. Harry is attractive, not gonna lie, but I just couldn't see him with someone like me. And isn't his family like crazy racist, and who knows how long he even has left in England before he has to go back North Carolina?

Everything about this situation is just weird. But, I liked having a friend. I feel like people looked at me less when I was with someone. Maybe because it made them realize I'm a human, who can make actual conversation.

"Hi Brooklyn" my mom smiled at me. I jumped slightly, not expecting her home so early. "H-Hi" I said a little confused.

"Oh mom, my friend wants to go downtown today. There's this new restraunt, can I go?"

I knew if I told my mom, this random southern boy I've known for all of four days was taking me to a concert of a band I didn't even know the name of, at like 9PM on a school night it would be a non-negotiable no.

"Ooo, who is the friend?" She wiggled her eyebrows, sitting back down at the dining table with her freshly made cup of tea. "This boy I met in my art class."

"Is it a date?"

"No" I said, wandering into the kitchen to make myself a snack. She just nodded, taking a long sip from her mug. "M'kay, Brooklyn. Have fun. I a matter of fact, have a date, also!" She exclaimed and I rolled my eyes. The fact that my mom actually owns a tinder is quite gross, but the fact that she is actively going on these late night dates is nauseating.

The amount of times I've woken up to half-naked, middle-aged men in our kitchen- this summer alone, is enough to call child services.

"Wow.." i fake smiled and she nodded in content. "His name is Gabriel! He plays guitar, cooks, sings. It's gonna be quite the night." She cooed, gazing off into the distance. I rolled my eyes, and began walking towards the stairs.

"I'm leaving at seven, and I trust you'll be home before midnight. I'm watching you, girl."

That usually meant— 'i'm fucking him, not coming home, and just trying to scare you into behaving. You probably won't see me in the morning either, so you should figure out a way to get junior and yourself to school.'

I smiled now realizing that I could stay out as late as I wanted with Harry, and finally get to really know him. I jogged up the stairs as fast as I could and began rummaging through my closet for an outfit.