The Whispers

8: The Wallet

"You shouldn't have stolen from me," her voice is strained and tears were pooling in her eyes.

"You should have provided food for your own kids," I retaliate. She finally looks at up at me, her eyes focused on my cheeks rather than my eyes, and glares.

We don't say anything else to each other.

She leaves for work shortly after.

***

Harper gave Maggie a bag of books on the bus today as he promised. There were so many that she had trouble carrying it to her locker, but she did so with a wide smile on her face. I asked him later why he was being too nice to her - he said that even a random act of kindness can make people feel less lonely than they really are. I'm not sure how he knew Maggie was quite possibly lonely, but I guess it's not rocket science to observe her anti-social behaviour along with the fact that he knows she's been bullied. I agree with his statement. I'm sure not everyone necessarily realizes the effect that a friendly "Hi" to a stranger has.

Biology wasn't outdoors today. Instead, we just had a work period to answer questions on aquatic ecosystems and dangerous man-made problems surrounding them. I want to say that it was riveting but that would be a lie. I know all about the dangerous effects of bycatch and shark finning, I know that the Great Barrier Reef in Australia is dying, and I know that aquatic ecosystems perform important functions such as purifying water and recycling nutrients. It's all common knowledge that I'm well educated on it because Stella wanted to be a marine biologist at one point and taught me basically everything there is to know about the subject. I flew through the worksheet and had nothing else to do all class.

At lunch, I saw that Maggie had a bruise on her arm. It looked fresh and not yet fully formed. It made me angry.

"Was it that boy that did this to you?" I asked.

"No, I walked into a door."

"Oh really? Why does it look like someone grabbed you?"

"I don't know."

"The door has fingers?"

"Apparently."

She's a terrible liar and I want to march straight to the principal's office, but the look on her face tells that doing that right now isn't the best thing to do. I'm not sure what to do, though, because if she tells the school that nothing happened then they can't do much about it. She has to be willing to accept help to get it.

***

Currently, Dallas sits across from me in my room. He's finally taken his hat back from when we went to the museum. He wants to talk to me about something but I have no idea what and it's been bothering me all day.

"I thought I told you to stay away from Harper?" He knits his eyebrows and stares intensely into my eyes. I supposed Harper is what he wants to talk about.

"You did," I clarify, "But now we're friends."

"Why?" He asks in disgust.

"Because he was nice to me in biology," that and the fact that I was mad at you and wanted to piss you off the only way I could think of at the time.

"He might seem all friendly now, but soon this will change," he tells me. "It always does."

"I don't want anything bad to happen but I highly doubt it will," I say. "He's sober now and I won't judge him for his past."

"He may be sober now but you never know how long that will last."

"I hope he stays that way," I admit. I've grown an affection for Harper and I'd like to think he has it for me, as well. It would be horrible if he were to go back to doing dangerous substances, he'd be putting his life at risk due to such self-destructive behaviour and he'd most likely go back to rehab and leave me. I don't want him to leave me.

"I hope he stays that way, too," Dallas sighs and slumps his shoulders. He pushed back his hair from his forehead and continues, "But I care about you too much to watch you hang out with someone known to ruin good things, with a lifestyle that's not for you, without saying something about it. Rose, please don't talk to him anymore."

"He sounds jealous. Jealous of a cousin. Jealous for your attention," an insect whispers. I swat my hands near my head to scare whatever it was away and a second later I see a red beetle flying into another room. I'll have to take care of that later.

"I don't think he has anyone other than me," I say. I know I'm right seeing as he hasn't spoken to anyone else in biology, doesn't speak to people in the hallways, and spends lunch with me and me alone. Dallas knows it, too. "I can't just stop talking to him."

"You can," Dallas insists. I suppose he's right. I technically can be a mean person and stop talking to Harper solely because his cousin asked me to.

I choose not to.