QUARTER-LIFE | HS

FRIDAY

"Oh, Christ!"

"Shit!"

"I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm sorry."

"Really, it's all my fault. I should've been paying more attention."

Harry bends down to pick up the now empty cup and moves away from the puddle his morning coffee has become. He looks at the woman in front of him, feeling the heaviness of the wet spots against his torso and thighs. "I guess I'll concede then, accept your apology and all that."

Her black eyebrows knit together as she hastily opens her giant purse to pull out a bright, orange pen. She holds it out for Harry, but he raises an eyebrow at her instead of grabbing it.

"It's one of those detergent pens— you know, to get the coffee out. Feel free to keep it."

"Ah, cheers." He tucks his worn, leather briefcase under his arm and takes the pen, examining the directions.

"It's not gonna get it all out. Like, it's gonna leave a weird mustard colored stain, so you should wash it as soon as you get home. Unless you like that kind of thing," she rambles while he pockets the pen.

He can feel the mortification oozing out of her pores, especially when he plucks at the damp lot of his button up in an attempt to make himself comfortable.

"I guess white shirts need a little character sometimes," he tries to make a joke knowing that onlookers are giggling about the spill.

"Sometimes," she slowly bobs her head with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry, too, though. I was kind of in my head, and my route to class is pretty much muscle memory," Harry sighs as he scratches the back of his neck.

"You work here?" Her eyes gleam.

"I'm a little old to be in secondary school, aren't I?"

"Can you tell me where to find A011?"

Harry wonders why she needs to find Principal Douglas' office, if she's someone's mother (though she seems far too young to have a teenaged child of her own), and why she's wandering on the other side of the school grounds if she isn't an employee or a student's relative.

He would have asked if the first warning bell hadn't rung. The surrounding students in the courtyard begin to make their way to their respective classes, and Harry starts to feel nervous as he's already later than preferred but feels bad leaving her without help.

"We're in building D, and that's in building A, so..." He turns with an arm outstretched, the sensation of the wet fabric dragging against his skin making him feel gross. "So, you're going to walk to the end of this garden— where you see that outdated tiger mural— and enter the hallway on the left, yeah?"

"Okay," she nods.

"Then walk all the way to the door at the right end, and make sure it's the right because the door at the left end leads you to the car lot."

The raven-haired woman nods again and flashes a brief smile. Harry returns it to be polite.

"Right, so at the end of that hallway's the auditorium. If you walk past it, like, all the way past it, there's an opening to the other garden. The building behind that is building A, and someone at the office on the bottom floor should be able to help you."

"Thank you," she breathes out with another smile. "And I'm sorry about the coffee."

"At least it was iced, yeah?"