"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, plumped lips held back, hands trembling. "You want to be with me?"
"The only thing I'm sure of is that we all die in the end." Harry bluntly spoke, smoke still lingering from his mouth. "And I would hate...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Please enjoy this chapter.
-
One of my biggest pet peeves is when someone doesn't let a song end. They're either too impatient to pay attention to the mellow beat slowly drifting off, or too excited to start a whole new song and go through another rollercoaster ride of meaningless lyrics that make us angsty teens feel something. That something is very special to me. That something resides in a song's final moments.
Harry didn't like listening to songs all the way. He'd either switch with twenty seconds to spare or just change once twenty seconds into a song. He noticed that I'd get my hopes up after those twenty seconds and then he'd skip it, the most idiotic smile on his face. We stayed in the parking lot of the school listening to the music he played the first night we met. I had a deep hatred for it but when Harry lazily hummed to it, the shitty lyrics started to grow on me. We looked as the rain cascaded off of the roof of his car and looked in the back to see his trunk filled with the debris from trees after an hour of staring forward. Both of our bodies contorted to get used to the tiny space we were given.
"Good thing y'all were having safe sex." I suddenly blurted out and brought my granola bar up to my mouth.
"Huh?" Harry glanced at me, taking a break from looking at his phone screen.
"She said she had a condom." I spoke nonchalantly with an unbothered tone laced in my voice. "I wouldn't want to be conceived in an empty auditorium."
"Better than being conceived elsewhere." Harry looked back down at his phone and clicked on another song, and the person speaking sounded very familiar. My chewing slowed and I listened very intently. "Yes, this is Randall. Before you ask." He noticed the confusion held in the wrinkles that formed between my eyebrows and decided to settle it for himself instead of having me realize it. I nodded. "He made it big on SoundCloud just a few weeks ago, but I've been listening to this bastard ever since we were both sophomores. He goes by Bones."
"Does he still live here?" I questioned and began to wrap up the granola bar, feeling my body reacting to the music. I bobbed my head to the beat and began to smile devilishly as the lyrics pushed their way into my head. The rainfall only made me like it more, if that made any sense. A true and genuine smile formed on my lips as Randall spoke with his unique mindset.
"Yeah actually. When he graduated, he and this group of guys got together and made it a point to make a shit ton music, get weed and pay for rent. That's what he's doing now."
"Why don't you join the group?" I asked.
"I'm not into making music like that." Harry answered truthfully and reached out to turn the music down.
I extended my hand out to him and wrapped my tiny fingers around his large wrist. "I like this song."
It played through the speakers and I leaned back, closing my eyes and breathing in the air as if the beat purified it. "Like I said, it's good that you and Monique used a condom. I wouldn't want you to have a baby conceived on the stage of Wardenton High. If y'all even got that far."
