The Miraculous Story of Harper Lynn

Chapter 5.

You'd think that after the inspiring, and smoke filled, lunch extravaganza, Lexi and Zach would treat me as part of the group, but apparently I'm wrong. I entered the German classroom, and sat in my usual spot in the back row. Lexi and Zach bound in a minute later, laughing like they'd just heard the funniest joke ever. I smile and wave at them, thinking that I had successfully made friends and that maybe this year wont be so bad after all. Lexi winks at me, but doesn't say a word, and Zach pushes my binder off the desk, spilling papers everywhere.

     "Oops, sorry Prick." he sneers at me. My heart sinks a little. Did the 45 minutes we spent together smoking and staring at a dumping ground of dirty green water mean nothing? Apparently not. that should be on the pamphlet for new High: Welcome to mother fucking high school. Where you can be friends with a group of super badass people for 45 whole minutes and then get called a prick by same badass people. I glare at him and begin picking my stuff back up off the floor.

     Neither Lexi or Zach say anything to me for the rest of the hour, but chattered insistently to each other. I must say I feel excluded, and, although I should be used to it by now, it hurts to be excluded from them. As the last few minutes of class roll out, I pack up my belongings and confront Lexi.

     "H-Hey, Lexi," I stammer. I literally fucking STAMMERED. God no reason I have no friends. She lifts her attention away from her phone momentarily.

     "oh, hey prick." She says through a smile that suggests she might be friendly. I furrow m eyebrows and stare at her. Even though I'm a freshman I've got a good few inches on her.

     "Don't call me a prick. My name is Leonard or Leo. NOT prick." I say sternly. She seems taken aback for a second, then regains her composure.

     "Okie dokie Leo, sorry fer' callin you that been spending too much time with Buttface over there." She sticks a thumb in Zach's direction. I nod at him when he glares at me.

     "I don't think he likes me." I state. Lexi laughs as the bell rings. We begin to walk out of class among the sea of students flooding around us.

     "Nah, he's just trying to act tough, when you get to know him like I do though, he's literally the biggest drama queen prick ever." Something about the hard exterior of Zach couldn't make me imagine him as a "drama queen".

     As I get home, the driveway is empty, and I'm grateful my parents aren't here to badger me with questions. I kick off my shoes in the front entry and shrug off my coat. We don't have any pets, so for the time being I am totally alone, which is fine by me, I'm more of an introvert anyways.

     In my room, I finish my homework swiftly, but it's still had to focus when you've had as crazy of a day as I did. I was

1. kidnapped by a gang of the coolest (but also most bipolar) people I've ever met.

2. Dragged out to a smelly old lake where i inhaled smoke for 40 minutes while staring at a dead fish

3. called a prick more than 4 times, and maybe made friends with said people??

      My head spun, with confusion or the smoke still clinging to my clothes I didn't know. Then there is Harper...Harper who thinks a man-made moldy pond is the greatest thing ever, Harper who smoked three cigarettes at once, Harper with the best god damned rack I've ever seen.

     I go to the bathroom and strip down out of my clothes and take another hot steamy shower, washing away any traces of smoke I might have on me. Once I dry off and change into some sweats and a t-shirt, I dump the smoke-infused clothes into the washer and run it. I DEFINITELY do not want my parents thinking I smoke, and on the second day of high school no less.

     It's approaching dinner time and my parents are still M.I.A.. I wander into the pristine white kitchen and grab a note off the counter. The scrawling looping writing screams my mother.

     Leo, there's chicken in the fridge, and sandwich fixings in the cupboard, be home late, don't wait up.

      I ignore that she didn't even mention if my dad was coming home, or when, and grab the bread out of the cupboard. If I thought my mother's mystery-meat meatloaf was bad, her pan-fried chicken could kill a full grown hippopotamus. 

     There's something about the "All-American Family" stereotype that includes T.V. dinners, and right now, I have surrendered to such activities. Since my parents are almost never home and both have shitty-paying jobs, we don't have cable. Or, even a real television for that matter. I can't remember on any sleepovers at my old friends' houses if they had big black cubes.

     I relaxed into our threadbare couch with my crappily made pb&j and turned on the tube. I'm just starting to get into Hillbilly Handfishing when the phone rings. I reluctantly get up and reach the wall-mounted phone by the third ring. 

      "Hello?" I say into the receiver. There's so much noise int he background I have to hold the phone slightly away from my ear.

     "Um, Hello?" i try again. This time theres a fizzle, and distinctive voices begin to ring through.

     "Hey Prick, Harper told me to call you, are you at home?" Zach? Why is he calling me?

     "Zach?"

     "Duh, who else has a voice this sexy?" I hear laughter and a male voice screams out "I DO YOU FARTCLAP!" I stifle a laugh.

     "Um, yeah, I'm at home, you called my home phone after all." I wait for Zach to answer, and after a minute of pure white noise, he does.

     "Aight good, we're coming to pick you up. Don't ask questions, 'cause no one really knows. Harpers on a rampage, insists you come along. We'll be there in ten." And with that he hung up.

     I don't move, keeping the phone pressed up to my ear. After a minute I quietly click the phone back into it's holder, mostly to silence the obnoxious dial tone.

     Harper wanted me to come.  She wanted, me to come. I smile to myself and grab my coat from the couch and slip on my worn out sneakers. A few minutes later I hear a ridiculously loud screech of tires, and someone knocks politely on my front door.

     "Hey Prick, ready for the time of your life?"