Paperboy. (h.s. au)

31.

I walk next to a ray of sunshine on this cloudy day. We stride (and hobble) along in silence, a peaceful silence full of the noise of my thoughts.

We tried to park as close as we could to our destination so I wouldn't have to walk on these crutches too far. Our destination is yet another obscure and tiny restaurant Harry picked out in the next town over. I'm not sure how he finds these places, but I'm not one to question our visitation of wonderful little cafés.

As for the crutches, I've got one more week on these babies. The doctor said it would be much shorter, but since my entire leg was kind of mangled, it's sort of necessary. They did a surgery and everything, but the leg still needs to be coddled. After I get rid of these, it turns into one of those giant boot/cast/ cage things for my leg. They showed it to me, and it goes all the way up to my mid thigh and it looks like something a robot would have in place of their leg. I well up at the thought of it.

At the same appointment, I'll also get the stitches taken out of my cheek and eyebrow. I'm glad for those things, so I can shower normally without trying not to get them wet. Except it won't be normal, because of my bionic leg.

I slowly shake my head and glance over to my right at Harry, who waves to every white car that passes by us. "I figure they need some happiness because they own a white car. White cars are just awful."

"You're crazy." I inform him.

"And you're a cripple." He shoots back. After he does, he glances nervously over at me. "Sorry, just slipped out." He bites his lip and I look away at once. He giggles like a little kid.

"No, you're right. I'm a cripple." I stop and smack his leg with my walking aid and try to crutch away from him as fast as I could.

"Ow!" Harry yelps and stands still as if giving me a head start.

I hear him sigh behind me as I slow down. I haven't done, like, any exercise since my accident.

Harry catches up to me. "Hey hey hey. Do you think you could get away?" He puts a hand on my shoulder. "You're silly. Lucky enough, you've showed yourself to our stop."

I nod with pursed lips and shrug away from the big hand on my shoulder, looking up at the tiny little building across the street.

Harry jogs out to the middle of the road and puts his hands out on either side of him. He acts like a crossing guard, pointing at me, winking, and curling his finger towards himself, telling me to come forward.

I see cars speeding toward Harry and my heart rate speeds up as well. I pick up the pace as I hear car horns honking at the boy in the middle of the road. As I pass Harry, I tell him to stop and just get off the street but he responds with, "And let you cross the street without supervision? Never! What kind of person would I be? Just-"

But I'm already across the street and standing at the door waiting for him to stop. Nevertheless, he stands there, arms spread wide proclaiming his goodness to the sky and cars zoom past and honk at him.

"Harry!" I call.

He spins around and slaps his hands down to his thighs, briskly jogging across the road to me. "Yes?" He asks when he reaches me, leaning in and opening the door.

I don't answer as I head inside and stand awkwardly in the waiting area. A man walks up to me and looks into my face expectantly. I assume he's a waiter and I break the eye contact, shifting my crutches back a step so he's not as close. I look over my shoulder to Harry. He's also standing there looking questionably at the man.

After another minute of weird silence, Harry clears his throat. "Um. Table for two?"

"Self seating." The man grunts and walks away. Okay?