Animal

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This is different.

"How was school, Charlotte?"

The girl glances away from her father, who sits the head of the long dinning table, and looks at me, on his left side. Yes, somehow I find myself sitting with Charlotte and Harrison at dinner time, in front of a bowl of green vegetable soup, and a plate of grilled chicken,mashed potatoes, and corn.

I have no idea what to think anymore. I gave up on trying to figure all of this out an hour ago.

"It was fine..." The girl says quickly and shifts in her seat.

I tap my gloved fingers on the light blue table cloth, while the other hand moves the spoon around in the bowl of soup, feeling awkward.

"We're you feeling better?" He asks bringing his spoon to his lips.

"Huh?"

"This morning you said you were feeling sick." He frowns.

Charlotte giggles nervously. She pushes her glasses up her nose, they must be new ones because these are blue instead of black, and they aren't broken. "Oh yeah, I guess I just needed breakfast." She glances at me again. The man seems to buy her story.

He drinks from his glass of water. "I was thinking we could buy out the aquarium tomorrow again and go..." He glances at me, "maybe Scrappy would even like to go with us?" He smiles hopefully, looking exactly like his daughter had when she had asked me for help.

Seriously, who is Harrison Henry?

"Sorry papa, I have plans." Charlotte says and glances at me. Oh yeah, I had promised I would show her how to fight tomorrow. I sigh quietly under my breath.

The man raises an eye brow, "You do?"

Charlotte nods quickly. "Yes," she answers and twists her fork around in her hands. "I have plans with a friend." She glances at me again. I wince, I hope she doesn't think I'm her friend.

"You have a...friend?" He asks, surprise clear on his face. The girl face turns pink and she sputters, and she glances at me again. Harrison catches on to his daughter's discomfort and swallows the food he had put in his mouth. "I mean, that's good, sweetheart."

She lowers her hands to her sides, her gaze falling into her lap, cheeks burn red. Harrison glances at me desperately, as if I have any idea what to do. He grimaces and looks down at his plate, forlorn face mirroring his daughter's.

Seriously...? What's wrong with these people?

"I don't have too many friends either," I say. I suppose I'm trying to cheer up both father and daughter. "I... when I was a child, before Leaf, I didn't have one friend, no one could stand me." I offer awkwardly. All of this is just really, really awkward. "So... you're not alone, Kid."

Harrison cuts into his chicken. "Who's Leaf?" He asks, taking a bite, waiting for my answer with his full attention.

I glance at Charlotte, who scoops up a spoon full of mash potatoes and shoves it into her mouth, also waiting.

I swallow a laugh. "Leaf is my best friend back home," I say. He was anyway, I think sadly. "What I'm saying is... you only need one good friend." I've only had three friends (four if you count Agnes) my whole life.

"She's right, Lotte." Harrison chuckles. "Well, maybe we can go Sunday?"

"Yeah, of course, papa."

* * *

"How long am I going to have to stand like this, Scrappy?"

I fold my arms behind my head and close my eyes, the early morning sunshine warms my face. The warm grass itches against arms and the smell of freshly cut grass and dirt seeps into my nose. I yawn. Last night I had gotten the best sleep I've had in weeks, and I have no idea why. Its just... one minute I'm laying in bed – desperately fighting off unwanted thoughts, the next minute, its morning and I can hear Charlotte quick footsteps as she rushes down the hall in my direction.