Manic [h.s]

#020

"Well I dashed around tried to find you

But you were, nowhere to be seen" 

7 | Arctic Monkeys

Play this song when you see its name if you're looking for the thrill ;)

I do realize that this song was released in 2006 and Arctic Monkeys probably didn't exist in 1999. But for the sake of this story, let's forget about the timeline.

February 08, 1999

IRIS XANDER

I stare out at the endless sea of brake lights stretching out in front of me. My fingers rhythmically drum on the steering wheel as I steal glances at the red traffic lights. The car is surprisingly quiet, except for the DJ's voice droning on about the weather on the radio. From the corner of my eye, I catch Harry taking a long drag from the joint between his fingers. His brows are pulled together as if he is frustrated. I get it. I wouldn't blame him.

I almost got him killed. As satisfying as that thought might be, I could have backfired big time. But do I regret what I've done? Not in the slightest. In fact, I'd do it all over again without hesitation.

What I did was wrong and I am aware. But there wasn't a single twinge of guilt when I drove the car away, even after he threatened me to stay put. I felt nothing when I used his money to buy those cans of spray paint in a town store. No emotion, except for pure fury as I pressed the atomizer and sprayed the luminous paint over the polished surface of his precious car. My mind was patting my back saying, 'There's nothing sweeter than some fucking revenge'. I took my time, driving around until I finally stumbled upon him at just the right time.

Harry hasn't said a word to me the entire drive. He has been awfully quiet, except for the brief moment when he called someone to say he'd already found a ride and they didn't need to come pick him up. Though his silence isn't anything new, I expected more of a reaction from him.

I'm usually not great with directions but I surprised myself by picking up the route and navigating the drive so far. Harry made no move to take over, leaving me to figure it out on my own.

The few seconds that the car stands in front of the traffic lights feel like a fucking eternity. I let out a heavy sigh, wondering how much more of this damn car ride I can take before we finally get to the beach house. The silence is killing me and the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. All I want to do is to get out of this car and put some distance between him and I.

I sigh, trying to kick all the past events out of my head. The traffic lights timer reads "40" seconds and I slump in my seat, bored out of my mind. Can this day get any longer? Eventually, I look out the window, watching all the different cars and trucks waiting in line with us—SUVs, beat-up sedans, flashy sports cars.