UPRISE

023

Everyone but Jasmine is cramped inside of Harper's tiny room. There are exactly enough beds for each person, though only Noah and Rinn sit on the top bunks. Reagan leans up and taps Rinn's foot, and gestures for her to rip out a sheet of paper from the journal she doodles in.

Of course, she leans down. She even gives him her pencil, even though it is growing dull and she didn't bring a sharpener. Rinn doesn't try to read what he writes, but Wren does. Reagan turns his front to Wren, to hide what he writes.

"I don't understand why she would do that," Harper continues to pace across the floor. Noah watches him move in circles, and wonders if he is going to wear a floor in the hole.

"Just sit down before you're legs walk off without you," Pluto would admit that she is worried too. However, from personal experience, she knows that Jasmine can take care of herself.

"It's getting stuffy in here. Let's take five?" Corbin asks.

When no one objects, he walks out of the room. Viola heads after him, and then Noah jumps down off the top bunk. He offers Harper a soft pat on the shoulder, even though Harper doesn't walk out of the room.

"I don't get it," Harper wipes his forehead. Skin comes off in layers. He's dehydrated since he couldn't tap any water yesterday. "Like, I really don't get it."

"She just wanted to help you," Wren points out. He knows that he is probably over-stepping his bounds, but Wren only knows how to cross lines that don't belong to him.

"Well..." Harper trails off, as he looks at the door, praying that she is going to walk in at any second. "Well, she doesn't need to protect me."

"Maybe she likes you," Wren smirks. He doesn't know, but he enjoys the blush it brings to Harper's cheeks.

Harper bites his lip. She is much too young for him, right? He is four years older than her. Although, time seems to be blurring together in here; days, months and weeks are all the same. Still, she could never be a parent, and that's what he would need.

Corbin would make a shitty Dad, he tells himself. He assures himself.

"No way," Harper says. "She's too young for me."

Since Reagan can't talk, he continues to pretend that he is writing. He has been done for a long time though. When Wren's eyes flick over to him, he slips the note over.

"Please, you think I'm too young for you and we are practically the same age," Rinn rolls her eyes, a playful grin on her face. Behind her teeth, she tries to hide that there is a truth to her words. "You need to let other people make their own decisions."

Even though the conversation isn't meant for him, Wren listens.

"I do," Harper insists.

"Obviously not," Rinn continues. "It's her decision to care about you enough to put herself at risk. Respect that. Thank her, before you get angry."

Harper does not agree, but he at least listens to Rinn. He knows that he will still be angry at her recklessness, and her selfishness. How dare he make her worry about her? How dare she have beautiful eyes and a soft laugh, and how dare she let him witness her become a better person?

How dare Corbin do the same?

Wren finally takes the opportunity to read the note.

I'm still going to need more reasons not to like you.

Wren looks over at Reagan. The boy with the freckles like stars still leans with his back against the metal post of the bunkbeds, his knees curled up. Wren takes the opportunity to pull his legs up and cross his legs, his one leg resting against Reagan.