The Uneventful Life of Harvey Mackler

c h a p t e r | e i g h t

     AT FIVE FOOT five, I like to consider myself averagely tall.

Not tall tall that someone could instantly remark at my height, and go 'wow, you're tall'. But not so small that I am frequently mistaken for a child either.

Unfortunately, being 'averagely tall' doesn't reach high shelves at supermarkets. As I stand on the tips of my toes, flailing my arms in vain, it occurs to me that this must be why I prefer going shopping with Hunter or Hayden. Originally, I came to the White simply to pick up a parcel I ordered earlier this week when Hunter texted me to drop by the grocery store for a few items. I shouldn't have declined his offer to wait till Hayden got off work so — at least then I'd have a ride home secured.

I drop my arms with a disgruntled huff. It's no use. I'll probably have to call an employee for help.

"Harvey?"

I turn around, startled out of my skin when a familiar voice calls my name.

"Fi— I mean, Blondie?"

Finn raises an eyebrow at my near-slip, but seems too preoccupied to mention it.

"Need a little help?" he asks, gaze drifting from me to the shelf behind me.

"No..." I say.

I must not be very convincing because Finn takes two strides forward, closing the gap between us. He puts his hand on my waist and moves me a couple inches aside. He raises his hand effortlessly so it is level with the top shelf, then he asks, "Which one?"

His grey-ish blue eyes stare back expectantly at me.

I sigh. "That one over there. Three to the right."

He retrieves the item from the shelf, holding it out to me.

I quickly snatch the item out of his hand and toss it in my shopping basket, taking a step back and looking away as I grudgingly mutter, "Thanks."

Before Finn can so much as utter 'you're welcome', I turn on the ball of my feet and dash in the direction of the aisle opposite.

I walk around for a minute until I find the next item on my list and throw it in my basket as well. The hairs at the back of my neck stand on end; I can feel Finn hovering close by but I try to ignore him.

I take four deliberate steps forward. He does as well. In frustration, I turn back round to face him.

"Do you have something you want to say, or are you just going to keep following me around like a stalker?"

Finn looks slightly taken aback. "No. Uh, actually," he scratches the side of his head, glancing around, "I think I've lost my family. This place is pretty big."

I stare at him for a while until I realise he's being serious.

"Then go find a new family," I reply. "I'm busy."

I start to walk away when Finn retorts, "That's a little harsh. Do you hate me that much?"

I pause, turning back to Finn. "It's not that I hate you, it's just—"

Mid-reply, my phone buzzes. I pull it out the pocket of my denim jacket to read the message I receive from Hunter.

Hunter: hey, Harv. While you're at it, could you try to find some duct tape? Trying to see if I can fix up Harry's scooter.