The Chronicles of Aida Sickler | H.S

twenty-eight.

"I'm leaving." He readjusted his words. "We're leaving."

I ignored him and rolled my eyes. "Do you guys need a ride?"

Alicia sat next to me in the small passenger's seat and Mercutio laid in the space given in the back where Harry's tool boxes and old sweatshirts were. He didn't mind, Mercutio sat his head on a bundled up, mildew smelling, football sweatshirt and didn't complain. "You played football?" He asked and Harry tapped on his steering wheel to distract himself.

"A little."

"I'm sorry, you played American football?" He giggled to himself and Harry didn't answer.

"So where do you live, Mercury?"

Instead of answering me, Mercutio adjusted himself in the back and pressed his head against the headrest of Harry's seat. "You know, I'm a pretty mean soccer player. I used to play in middle school but stopped cause Brianna Walkins dropped her book bag on my fucking knee. But I'm sure," he licked his lips and pressed his finger against Harry's shoulder. "I'm sure I'm still a good kicker and I could definitely beat you if we stopped the car right now and played a little game of er of socc."

I could see the irritation beginning to build on Harry's face, my hand resting on his thigh to attempt at a soothing of some sort. He looked down at my hand and into his rear view mirror. "Where do you live, mate."

Mercutio's finger was still set on Harry's tense shoulder and he shook it off. "British boy. Let's get it, let's play. Stop the car."

"He's not stopping the car." Alicia interjected with a sloppy hiccup.

"He's gonna stop it, come on. Stop the car."

Harry looked at me with a straight face. "Fuck's his problem?"

Alicia took my hand in hers and began to observe it, bringing it close to her face and pressing her nose against my thumb. Harry and Mercutio began to banter, the car growing with conversation and halting at red lights less frequently. It wasn't soon until I realized we came to a stop in the parking lot of Angelo's, and Harry stepped out with the flattened soccer ball that sat under his seat in his hands. "Get out." He ordered Mercutio and the lanky boy began to climb out from the back, a dumb smirk plastered on his face. His dark bangs swooped awkwardly to the other side with the wind pushing against his face and I stared blankly at the two, watching as Harry bounced the ball on his knees and ankles just to impress the high 16 year old boy. Alicia still held my hands in hers and paid more attention to how my right thumb was smaller than the rest of my fingers.

She coughed only slightly. "How's he dealing with the loss of his dad?"

"What?" My tone was hushed, in fear that Harry would hear her. He was too busy mocking Mercutio with the soccer ball moving swiftly against his touch. "We're not talking about that now, we have to get you two home--"

"Does he know that you know?"

I reached over to the driver's side where the door was still open, their stupid conversation growing in volume and bodies growing in terms of distance away from the car. Harry kicked the ball over to Mercutio and ran in the other direction, my attempt in getting his attention completely falling through. "Open the door," I ordered Alicia and she stared at me for a bit before I reached over her to open it myself. She tumbled out and I followed suit, ignoring the concerning glances coming from the people looking out of the windows and into the parking lot. "Harry, it's like, extremely stupid for you two to be playing soccer right now-"

He held up his finger to silence me and my eyes widened in surprise. "Come on, big guy. Show me what you got."

Mercutio winded up his leg and kicked, only to completely miss the ball and send Harry into a tumbling fit of mocking and making fun with the point of his finger. I watched horrifically as Mercutio did the same move, the ball flying right in the direction of Harry's face but missing it by only inches, due to his obnoxious laughter that halted immediately. His face hardened at the mere sight of a ball almost hitting him and didn't care that it continued to roll, dirty converse clad feet making their way over to a flushed Mercutio. He didn't flinch when Harry tilted his head in a challenging way. "You want to try that again?"