Fruitcake // h.styles special

chapter 3 - carolers attack

"What," I declared, pointing a questioning finger at his head. "Is that thing."

Harry frowned and reached a hand up towards his hair, as though momentarily forgetting what he was wearing. "It's my hat. Look, it has a pom pom." He shook his head to emphasize, causing the hanging ear flaps to come up and whack him in the face.

"Take that thing off." I demanded, trying to pull the blue, frayed knit hat away. Harry batted me off while keeping one hand on the wheel, causing the car to swerve and nearly hit a pedestrian battling through the snow.

"I'm so sorry, sir!" Harry shouted out to the disgruntled man giving him the finger. "Have a nice day!"

It had been easy to sneak out of work, considering everyone was mostly preoccupied with comforting the traumatized shoppers who were horrified by the fact Harry had set fire to a major symbol of Christmas.

We had ran out to Harry's car, a dumpy little thing that had a battered paint job and cracked leather seats, smelling like musky pine from the air freshner hanging from the duct-taped rearview mirror.

"My pride and joy." Harry said, patting the dashboard affectionately as he started up the car. He had forgotten that the music had been on full blast, so my very first ride with him began with both of us screaming as 80's rock blasted from the speakers and scared me half to death, him frantically scrambling to turn it off and accidentally starting the air conditioning instead.

To put it quite frankly, this boy was certainly an odd peice of work, yet interesting none the less. But a horrible driver.

"So where do you want to go?" Harry asked, his car blazing past a speed limit sign with complete disregard for the numbers printed on.

I pressed my nose against the glass and watched a stop sign he had either missed or just ignored. "Food. I'm hungry, and all the serve us at work is fruitcake."

Harry stuck out his tounge. "Ugh. Fruitcake is so gross. Gag me with a fork."

"The expression is gag me with a- nevermind. Fruitcake is gag-inducing."

"I could make a better dessert blindfolded. And with my hands tied behind my back."

I laughed at this, but my laugh was cut short by the sound of tires squealing and Harry declaring a very simple, "Oh fuck", as the car spun off the road.

In all honesty I should of soon it coming, mostly because of his reckless driving and accident prone aura, but all I could do was cling to the dashboard and feverishly pray for my life as Harry's car slid over a patch of ice on the road.

Harry slammed on the brakes and twisted the wheel, throwing us first forward into the embraces of our seatbelts and then back against the seats. The world turned into a blur of spinning colors as we spiraled across the empty road ricocheted into a bank of snow. A flurry of white flew up and splashed across the window as we slammed forward.

There were a couple seconds of stone shock silence as we both sat there, the car angled into a ditch. I held my head (which had hit the ceiling) and waited.

"Motherfucking buggering asshole." Harry said simply. His long fingers were still clenched around the wheel.

"Interesting word choice." I replied, sighing slightly. We both kept sitting there, equally unaware on what to do next. I stared forward at the front windsheild, which was coated with so much snow you couldn't see out of it.

Harry turned on the windsheild wipers, attempting to clear some away. "We're in a ditch."

"You certainly get an A in observation skills, Harry."