A sigh of relief exits me as I no longer see Harper on my feed. At least I won't have to deal with him on social media anymore. It shouldn't be that big a deal. He hates me anyway.
Hank responds to Harper's status: Nice burn, Harp. So hot I need to apply ice to it. Get a life.
Rocci comments: OMG stop fighting guys. It's not worth it. Especially over him. Don't let someone like him get in between you two.
Rocci isn't particularly kind to me either. She's the same as Harper, except she pretends to tolerate me while badmouthing me and playing a part in my torment. At least Harper is transparent. Why am I friends with her on here again? I deleted her as well.
Almost immediately, I see a friend request. I click on it to see it's from Harper. My eyes enlarge at the sight. Impulsively, I block him. Why does he want to be friends with me again? He hates me. Another friend request pops up, which makes me anxious. No surprise to see it's Rocci. Her and Harper are probably messaging each other right now and talking about how I unfriended them. I know it. In fact, I know they're probably at the same place right now. I block her too.
***
Harper scoffs, "He just blocked me."
"He just blocked me too, what the hell?" Rocci indignantly grumbles, "I even tried to stop the fighting." She places her phone on a nearby nightstand. She tried to reason with Harper verbally but when he paid her no mind, she intervened on the status.
"Exactly!" Harper growls, "Who does he think he is?" He throws his phone on the ground angrily.
"What have I ever done to him?" Rocci inquires, "Seriously, I can't recall one time I've treated him badly. I actually have no issue with him."
Harper bursts in laughter, wrapping his arm around her, "You and I both know that you dislike him deep down inside, no matter how hard you try to act all goodie-goodie."
She laughs, "Okay, you're right. Moxie and I don't click well. I tried to bond with him but he was too weird. He is just some weird ass kid." Rocci has known Moxwell Drewer for several years. He has always been the type of person who was content with remaining in the shadows and having little to no interaction with others. Rocci has met many introverts in her life but never one like Moxwell. He's completely socially inept. He has such a dry personality. "I bet he's never had any friends. I mean, look at the way he is! I kind of feel bad for him."
"Stop pretending you care for him," Harper laughs, "Be like me and not give a crap about him."
She chortles, "If you really didn't give a crap about him, you'd leave him alone and ignore him like everyone else."
"You know I can't do that," Harper smirks, "Why would I ignore him? It's what he wants." Harper gets kissed on the cheek by Rocci, who gets up from under the blanket. Harper has never liked the freak. His dislike for the teen began when he tried to be a good samaritan by inviting him to his birthday party a few years ago. Moxwell declined the invitation and said that he had more important things to do. The freak didn't even seem in the least grateful or happy that at least someone was speaking with him, unlike other people who avoided him like he was a disease. He wasn't moved in the least. After that, Harper gave the misfit several chances of redeeming himself but he failed miserably. Harper tried striking up a conversation with the teen but the disinterest was evident. He even tried sitting by him at lunch yet the teen didn't speak to him unless he was spoken to. It was like Harper didn't exist to him. Harper doesn't respond well to being ignored.
"I think you should leave, Harper," she walks away in her bareness to her connected bathroom. Harper follows her into the bathroom and grabs her from behind.
"Can I stay a little longer?" Harper looks at their reflection in the mirror. "I mean, look at us. We look so cute together." He grabs her face, connecting their lips together. He and Rocci have been friends with benefits for over a year now. It all began when he walked in on Rocci crying in her garage. She didn't want to talk about it, so Harper left it alone and comforted her, which to led to Rocci making out with him.
"What are we going to do, Harper?" she giggles, as he kisses her neck.
"Cuddle or snuggle?"
"You know we can't do that."
Harper makes a fake pouty face. He has always wanted to take their intimacy further than just having sex, but knew it would ruin everything. He knows the moment they do that, his feelings for her would become even more unbearable and Rocci doesn't like being in relationships. Even though he knew they shouldn't go that far, he couldn't help but at least try. "Gorgeous, how can you say no to this face?"
"Harp, you need to go," she recoils from his hold, "Before my dad comes home. You know he doesn't like you."
"You're right," he says, internally dejected, and exits the bathroom to slip on his clothes. He had to help pack for his family's big move anyway.
After Harper left, Rocci stared at her reflection and grabbed a chunk of her belly fat. She turned her body to the side to look at her stretch marks and cellulite. How could someone like Harper find someone like her beautiful? He constantly tells her that he loves her body and while she appreciates the uplifting things he tells her, she can't help but hate herself. She doesn't find one thing physically attractive about herself.
Unlike her, Harper took care of his body. He was fit and active. She didn't understand how she could have the body she has while being vegan her whole life and Harper having an omnivorous lifestyle. It was unfair. She somewhat resents him for it. How could Harper sit there and tell her how she's beautiful the way she is while he does activities to avoid becoming fat? Not to mention, besides his birthmark on his lowerback, he has no blemishes. To add fuel to the fire, he likes her. She's no fool. She knows when a guy is into her. Unlike all the others, she actually cares for Harper. Still though, she couldn't see them blossom as a romantic duo. He is great in bed and has the qualities she would love in a partner, but she'd rather things stay the way they are now with no strings, no attachments. She's never been much a fan of romance anyway. In that instant, she hears her phone vibrate on her nightstand and sees that she received a text message from Harper.
***
The smell of dinner interrupts my thoughts, so I make my way into the kitchen with a book and sit at the table. Mom pulled out the baked ziti and then placed some garlic bread into the oven to complement the meal. "Did you do your homework?"
"Yes," I answer, opening the book to where I left off from the last time.
"Moxwell."
I look up at her.
"You know we're getting new neighbors, right?"
"Yes," I answer, returning my attention back to my book. I read on.
"These neighbors also have a kid, I heard," she adds, enthusiastically, "Maybe you could make a new friend."
"No," I flatly remark, "I'm not interested." I flip to a new page.
She puts on the oven mitts and pulls out the garlic bread. "You have to be interested. How could you not want any friends?"
"All the friends I need are right here in this book and you." And I meant that too. Me and others don't mix well.
"I mean real friends, Mox," she clarifies.
I look at her and feel my book and then I go up to touch her arm. "Both seem pretty real to me."
She laughs and I join in. She hugs me tightly. "Mox, I think you should put yourself out there more. You just assume no one likes you."
I grow instantly uncomfortable with the contact, but nevertheless, I return the hug. "That wouldn't end well for me." And it never will end well for me. The case with her and I was purely luck. She adopted me seven years ago when I was eight. For most of my childhood, I was moved from foster home to foster home until I was placed in her home and then she went through the tedious legal procedures to become my legal guardian.
"I'm not no one, am I? I like you."
"Well, no one likes me, but you're the exception," he says.
***
"So, you unfriended me and then blocked me?" Harper confronts me the next morning at breakfast.
I tense up. Why does Harper have to do this right now? "Y-Yes," I stammer, looking down at my omelet and sausage. My heart began beating crazily inside my chest. I felt the several eyes on me. I heard the snickers of bystanders. I felt my hands begin to shake. Couldn't these people allow me to remain invisible?
Harper seats himself next to me, aggressively smacking my back, leaving behind a sting. "Now, tell me, why would you do that?"
I tried to form the words but they wouldn't come out of my mouth. I was too anxious.
He leans in close to my face. "What's the matter? Are you going to piss your pants, weirdo?" He contentiously grabs my shoulder. "Am I speaking to myself right now? Answer my damn question."
I breathed out nervously, "No."
He gives me a rough noogie, disorganizing my curls even more than they already were. "Get out your phone."
I listen to him, retrieving my phone from my pocket. What was he planning on doing?
"Now, you're going to unblock me and add me again as a friend."
I eye him in confusion. "I-I don't understand."
"There's nothing to understand, but this: if you don't do as I say in the next ten seconds, I'm going to embarrass you in front of everyone," he exploits my weakness. He knows I become uneasy when I'm the center of unwanted attention. It makes me panic. I prefer to keep to myself.
I listen to his demand, not wanting any more attention on me than there already is.
"That's what I love to see," he smacks my back again, harder this time, making me wince. "Compliance."
I fearfully look at the table, not making eye contact with him.
"And?"
I become confused again but remain looking down.
"Apologize," he says with evident impatience.
"F-For what exactly?"
He squeezes my shoulder hard. "Does it matter? Just do it."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I'm sorry, Harper." In that moment, I recalled my foster brothers humiliating me. They always reacted violently. I don't know what I would do if Harper ever got excessively physical with me. I wouldn't do anything probably. I'd just take it. I don't even know why Harper has it in for me so much. He used to talk to me all the time—even though I barely spoke a word when spoken to, because I'm terrible when it comes to interacting. I'm too laconic to keep a conversation going. I'm so terrified of looking foolish, I'd rather save myself the humiliation and remain quiet.
"See? Now, was that so hard?"
"No," I answered, keeping my eyes downcast.
"See you later," he says, arising from the table. The moment he left, I felt tears well up in my eyes. I wiped at them before they fell and distracted myself with reading a news article on my phone.
I hope I don't see him later. At least for a little while.
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