Until Death Do We Part

Chapter 5- Curly Fries (Taylor)

The car ride of snarky comments and Harrison's awful music seems to take forever, and the entire time, I'm cursing myself in my head for agreeing to this. It makes no sense; I hate this girl, yet here I am, chasing a dead body across the country with no company except her.

She parks her flashy BMW perfectly into the lot and I grab my backpack with my bare necessities, unsure of how long we're actually spending in DC. Harrison, on the other hand opens her truck, pulling out a large floral suitcase that reads "Kate Spade". I raise my eyebrow at her but she ignores me and shuts her trunk using the remote, briskly walking away with her suitcase.

Sighing, I follow her quickly because as much as I would like to "accidentally" lose her in a crowd, I've only been to the airport once before, and that was with Derek. I follow her through the airport, weaving in and out of long lines of impatient travelers. When we finally get to the check-in area, which reads "Priority Check-in" and Harrison pulls out two plane tickets, I realize I haven't paid her yet. While I'm contemplating how to figure out the price of the ticket without actually asking her, she rolls her eyes at me, "What, cat got your tongue, Tay?"

"Taylor," I correct automatically, which is like reading assignments for English; something I pretend is annoying, but I actually don't mind too much, "And no, I was just wondering how much the plane ticket is."

She waves a hand, "Don't worry about it. My dad has a ton of travel miles saved up so it's no biggie, Tay."

I slap her for the name, but slightly lighter than I normally would have because I'm sure the plane ticket would've taken at least a months paycheck.

Harrison hands both our tickets to the flight attendant with a broad smile who gives us a weird look. But before I can ponder over this some more, I've followed her into the plane, where we duck through a white curtain to the first-class section.

Of course we're in first class, it's Harrison, but just how many miles did her dad actually have?

My thoughts are quickly replaced as I gape at the luxury of the front of the cabin: wide, plush leather seats with a TV screen bigger than my laptop, two down pillows and a wool blanket.

When Harrison tugs on my sleeve, I snap out of my trance and follow her onto the right side where two perfectly organized seats await us.

A flight attendant lifts our luggage onto the locked overhead compartment and Harrison sits graciously onto the seat: me, a step behind, cautiously mimicking her.

"Anything to drink, ladies?" the attendant asks kindly, handing over a menu of sorts.

"Strawberry daiquiri, please," Harrison says sweetly without even taking it.

"Oh, uh, I'll just have a Sprite," I say awkwardly, not wanting to stumble through the menu, or accidentally ordering something crazy-expensive.

The attendant leaves with a polite nod and I settle into the seat.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I blurt out suddenly, the question has been on the tip of my tongue for far too long; after all, she's spending her money (or her father's) on fancy plane tickets and what seems to be unlimited drinks on the plane ride instead of just throwing me in business class.

She shrugs as if she hadn't realized this, "I just want to know the truth about my boyfriend, and you have something to do with it, so since it looks like I'm going to be stuck with you for a while, I might as well make it as less terrible as possible, right?"
"Right," I agree half-heartedly and we return to silence.

"I doubt Derek's parents would've approved him having two girlfriends." Harrison proclaims after our drinks have arrived and I'm trying to decode what she's saying when she simply asks, "So who did they think you were anyway?"

"They didn't," I shrug. She frowns at me, but then a look of understanding crosses her face. Even though I'm sipping the iced Sprite, my face is burning up. Of course Harrison was the one Derek presented to his parents; she's polite, nice and put-together, the exact opposite of me.

"So what did you guys do together then?" she asks lightly, and I hear the implication that she and Derek hardly ever did anything that didn't involve his family.

At this, I smile, recounting the memories, "We did so much; racing in the forest, bowling at two in the morning, seeing who could eat the most curly fries in one sitting..." I feel like I could go on forever but Harrison's eyes have taken a sad turn.

"That sounds amazing," she says without a hint of sarcasm, her eyes looking at me longingly.

"Yeah it was," I reply, still smiling, but feeling slightly guilty for some reason, "What about you?" She looks a little taken aback but gives a small sigh and says, "You know, family brunches, benefits, balls and dinners." Her eyes are forlorn and I can understand why; this Derek sounds extremely boring and for a split-second I wonder if we're even talking about the same person, but she brightens up and says, "My favorite was the horse races; during the award ceremonies, we would "borrow" the horses and race on one of the empty tracks."

I smile too because this sounds like the Derek I know, except I now feel totally awful that Harrison only got to see the real him occasionally whereas that's all he was with me.

But this is what I wanted right; to prove that my relationship with Derek was more legitimate than hers?

This doesn't lift the stone that's settled into my stomach, though, so I let myself succumb to desperately needed sleep.

"Hey, do you mind if I lift up this armrest to sleep?" I ask Harrison casually, referring to the one separating our seats,using all my energy just to keep my eyes open.

She looks at me for a moment, surprised, then replies, "Yeah, no problem."

Although I'm completely tired out, I have to ask, "What?"

"Nothing, I just didn't think you'd actually bother to ask," she laughs quietly and before I can think about this enough to be fully bothered, I raise the armrest, sink into the softest pillow ever and shut my eyes.

"Not a morning person, are you?" she asks and I barely manage to mumble an answer before everything fades away.

~~~

Is it just me or do curly fries taste better than regular fries??

Thanks again for reading! :))

<3