Rule #32: Don't Become Vulnerable
Never put yourself in scary situations.
- () -
I hear Harper before I see him.
The series of harsh barking and low whining comes from the back of the office. I step inside the pet store, glancing at Leo, who's working at the cash register today. He avoids my gaze, focusing on refilling the stapler instead. Even the animals are unusually somber when I walk past them in my way to Peter's office. His door is open, letting the dog's bark echo around the store.
"...you're alright, you're alright," Peter says, standing in front of a cage with two gloves on. "Shh, that's it. Calm down."
The dog lets out another series of growls when I step inside the office, sulking back into the shadows. With an unpleasant jerk, I realize this is the puppy I gave away just a few months ago.
Except this Harper is bigger. Burlier. Bloodier. One of his eyes is swollen, making his entire face look like it weighs more on the right. Scratches, probably from another dog, run up his right arm and left leg, grating his fur and reveal the skin under it. He limps as he paces around the cage, troubled.
Peter looks over his shoulder with a wince, "You're here. I didn't expect you this early."
"Archer didn't have swim practice today so he - is that Harper?"
I step closer to get a better look, but stop when the dog begins to set off another round of barking. There are no signs of recognition in his eyes, just fear and fury.
"Yeah," Peter stands up with a sigh. "Why don't we talk about this outside?"
We walk outside. Peter closes the door behind him, but you can still hear Harper through the barrier. His growling sounds furious, wounded and nothing like the Harper I fell in love with months ago.
"We're not keeping him for long," Peter says, turning my attention back to him. "He has to go to another shelter in Utah tonight."
I'm not ready to ask why yet. Instead, I say, "Was he a part of the dog-fighting ring?"
"Kind of?" Peter rubs the back of his neck. "Harper wasn't big enough to become an actual fighter, so they used him as bait."
"Bait."
"Yeah, for the bigger dogs who don't know how to hunt down -" Peter breaks off and sighs, then starts again." - I'll spare you the gory details. Anyways, they decided that Harper is too dangerous to be around people or pets. We won't be able to take care of him."
"So, what? They're going to send him to another facility?"
"They're going to have to put Harper down."
Even though this was the news I was expecting, maybe even dreading, everything inside of me freezes. My blood runs cold, goosebumps run up my spine and my hearts beat just a little bit slower.
I take a second to compose myself. "Is there no way to save him?"
"Not unless somebody adopts him. And in the state that Harper is in, it'll break ethical violations just showing it to potential customers."
"Right. What about moving him to a rescue agency?"
"They're too full to take animal right now."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry, Peyton."
"Yeah. Me too.
"Do you want see him again?"
I don't respond.
"Peyton?"
"He's scared of me."
"At this moment, I think he's scared of everybody."
I look away. "Yeah."
"You don't want to say goodbye?"
"I don't think it's right for me to see Harper," I cross my arms in attempt to give myself warmth, but it doesn't work. I feel just as cold as before. "He's so scared - I think my presence would just hurt him even more."
"I can't say that's not the truth."
"Yeah. I should go."
"If that's what you want."
I nod, then turn back. Peter calls after me, just before I rush out the door. I stop halfway between the interior and exterior of the shop, letting all the cool spring air rush inside.
"Peyton, wait," He says. "This isn't your fault. You were just doing what I told you to do."
"I know," I turn back, looking at Peter. He's in even worse condition than I feel right now. "It isn't your fault either, Peter, you know that?"
"Yeah."
We share a small smile before I leave.
Outside, the wind is cold and strong. It blows my hair in every direction, throwing half of my strands in front of my face. It makes it hard to see, but hides my expression. I leave my hair where it is when I get into the car so Archer can't see how distraught I am over the news of Harper.
"So, what's the verdict?" He asks.
"They've decided that Harper's too dangerous," My voice sounds hollow, even to me. "So they're going to euthanize him."
"Oh Peyton, I'm so sorry."
"It's fine. It's for the best," I think of Harper's mangled fur, his swollen eye, the terror in his eyes, and suck in a deep breath. "Let's just go home."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I shake my head.
Archer leans over and brushes the hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ears. I nod in a silent thanks. He starts the engine and backs out of the parking lot. Neither of us say anything during the ride home. Archer gives me space. I do my best not to burst into tears.
- () -
When the time comes around for me to go back to therapy during Friday evening, I refuse to leave the house. No matter how much I like Dr. Robinson, the issue with Harper is not something I want to talk about.
Instead, as an attempt to warm myself up, I snuggle with Charlotte under the blankets. But I feel just as cold as before.
"Are you sure you'll be alright home alone?" Mom asks, standing in my doorway. She's fully dressed in her business attire, about to leave for one of her weekly Neighborhood Watch meetings.
"Yeah."
"Be careful. The robberies -"
"The robbers haven't come when anybody's in the house. But I'll be careful. Promise."
She leans against the doorway. "Is this about therapy?"
"No."
"Because if it is, I really think you should go back," She continues as if she hadn't heard me. "If not, Dr. Robinson said you should try talking to somebody."
"I'll think about it." Actually, I have told somebody. Archer knows the whole story. I told him almost everything in the meetings we have in the treehouse almost every night.
"Maybe you should try talking to Archer. I don't see you two interacting lately. You two are still friends, right?"
"Yeah."
"There you go," Mom sounds proud of herself. "I have to go now or I'll be late. Talk to Archer in the meantime."
"I will."
Mom closes the door. For a few seconds, I stay under my covers, clutching Charlotte and staring at nothing. My unfinished essays lie on my desk, piling up from days of procrastination. My laptop, almost dead because I didn't plug the charger in, blinks its red light. Next to both of them is my phone.
I sit up and take my phone so I can text Archer.
Peyton: Hey.
He texts back a few minutes later.
Archer: Hello. You're not going to therapy today?
Peyton: No.
Peyton: You're texting normally.
Archer: Yeah, I think it's time to give my art a break for now.
Peyton: I like your art. Even if it is stupid.
Archer: Thanks. If you're not going to therapy tonight, do you want to hang out with me? It can be our second date.
I glance outside my window.
From here, I see Archer's backyard. The footsteps from where Archer played fetch with Buster are still there. Next to them, Archer has written HI PEYTON in the wet sand when caught me watching. The sight provides me with a warmth that blankets couldn't. I turn back to my phone with a small smile.
Peyton: I thought you had swim practice tonight?
Archer: I do. You should join me. Coach Watson says you can swim in the small pool that we don't practice in.
Peyton: Swim?
Peyton: Won't your teammates be there?
Archer: They won't care. If they do, I'll scoop out their eyes and feed them to Buster.
It seems like Archer's been texting my friends too often. He wouldn't use this phrasing without Andrew's influence. Or Jake's. Or maybe even Melody's. Is everybody around me corrupted?
Peyton: I don't have anything to wear.
Archer: Yeah, that's why I already bought you a swimsuit.
Archer: Actually it's a wetsuit, like the surfers wear. It covers your entire body, so you don't have to feel uncomfortable.
I consider it.
The last time I was in the ocean, it was because James threw me in. I haven't properly swam after I quit the swim team during freshmen year. Do I miss it? Sometimes. Not enough to ever go back into the pool again.
But I don't want to stay inside this bedroom any longer. I think I'm going to drive myself insane.
Peyton: Ok.
Archer's rings my doorbell a second after I send the text.
I roll my eyes, then get up. After brushing my hair and getting proper clothes, I walk downstairs. Archer waits by the doorway, already in his black swim trunks and a simple blue shirt, highlighted in the evening sun. Melody's climbing the steps to our porch by the time I step outside.
She looks between the two of us curiously. "What are you two up to during this time?"
"School project," Archer says. I want to smack him on the head.
"For what? Gym?"
"Forget about it," I say, nudging Archer into his side of the car. "Go inside and lock the doors properly, okay?"
"You're acting weird."
"That's nothing new. Go away."
"Okay," Melody says, going up the stairs. "But I'm keeping my eyes on you."
"Stalker."
We make sure Melody is safely inside the house before leaving.
I don't start to feel nervous about swimming again until we actually reach the school. Then, Archer and I walk into the pool room, where Coach Watson and the others are already inside, and I start to feel sick. Archer sets his bag down, zipping it open to reveal my wetsuit.
"It's pink."
"Sure is," Archer wears a smug grin. "It matches your hair."
"I hate my hair."
"I love your hair."
"You just bought this so you could subtly ask if you could take photos of me later," I scoff, snatching the outfit from his hands. I hold it up in the light, critically examining it. Besides the color, there's nothing wrong with it. It reaches my wrists and the bottom of my knees.
"I guess it's not so subtle now, huh?"
"Shut up."
He just laughs. "Let's go. The boys locker room is that way."
"Boys locker room?"
"Yeah, it's not like Coach has the keys to the other room," Archer swings open the door for me. I step inside. "Don't worry. I'll keep guard for you."
My skin scrawls as I strip out of my clothes. Getting naked in the middle of school feels so wrong, but I switch into the wetsuit in a matter of seconds. I examine myself in the mirror when I'm done. The suit isn't as bad as I originally thought. The pink is more pastel than neon.
I suck in a deep breath. "This feels weird."
"You need a minute?"
"I think so."
"I'll be in the pool. Come outside when you're ready. I have a surprise for you."
With that, Archer leaves. I wince at the sound of the door shutting behind him.
After checking my reflection one more time, I leave the locker room with my clothes bundled around my arms. In the pool, I spot Archer's surprise. It's the rubber animals that Bettie gave me for Christmas. They float in the smaller pool easily, bumping into each other.
I glance at Archer, but he's already doing warm ups with the others.
"You sure you don't mind me being here?" I ask Coach Watson.
"As long as you don't distract Archer - or anybody else for that matter - I don't give a damn," He glances at my suit. "Is that pink?"
"Yeah."
"You sure do like pink, huh?"
"I guess," Truth be told, pink was my favorite color when I was young.
"Are those your toys in the small pool?"
"Coach Watson, are you judging me?"
"Never."
I roll my eyes, already feeling better than I did at my house, and place my clothes on the bleachers. Then, I walk towards the smaller pool. The florescent lights make the water look neon blue. I waste no time in jumping in, knowing from experience it's better to get it over with.
The sudden chill of the water is both familiar and shocking to me.
I let myself sink into the bottom of the pool, until my hands scrap the bottom, and let the water enclose around my body. A sudden wave of memories and nightmares engulf me, but I don't lose my cool. Soon, those thoughts fade away, leaving behind the sensation of bubbles tickling my nose and hair floating around my ears.
This isn't so bad.
When I need to breathe again, I swim to the surface and take a deep breath. One of the rubber animals - a brown horse - bumps against my shoulder.
"Hi there," I whisper and pick up the horse.
He reminds of Boxer from George Orwell's Animal Farms. I make the horse gallop across the surface of the water, surprised about how much delight the simple action gives me. I grab a few more rubber animals.
We can have some fun with this.
I play with the rubber toys quietly at first, self-conscious of the swim team. But they seem busy with their own exercises.
None of them - not even Derek - seem to pay any attention to me. After a couple of minutes of escaping their notice, I decide to take things to another level and reenact the entire plot of Animal Farm.
"... and so Squealer was like all animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others and two legs good, four legs better, " I say, making the pig bounce, causing miniature ripples in the water. "Then, Clover was like Squealer, you're a pompous asshole and beat him up with rest of the good animals."
I make the rubber horse beat up the rubber pig.
Even though it's satisfying, it's not enough. So I take matters into my own hands and crush Squealer by myself. His eyes bulge out of their rubber sockets. I'm so into making Squealer pay for his crimes that I don't notice that everybody's looking at me until Archer clears his throat.
I drop the pig.
"What are you doing?" Archer asks, fighting a grin.
"Oh, you know," I poke Squealer on the side, making him float away from me. "Reenacting the last pages of the George Orwell's Animal Farm. It's supposed to be a commentary on Russian politics but I think it offers a wise perspective on animal cruelty as well."
"I see. Did you nearly kill that pig?"
"He deserved it."
"I thought you were supposed to be an animal-lover," Sebastian, who's in the water next to Archer, says.
"I am."
"Then why'd you kill the pig?"
"I didn't kill him. He's still alive."
"You tortured him."
"I'll torture you," I snap and throw Squealer at Sebastian's head. It squeals as it bounces off Sebastian's forehead. Some of the boys behind him snicker.
Archer swims between us. "No fighting! You guys, go back and change!"
After a bit of grumbling, Archer's teammates go in the locker room. Once they're all gone, Archer climbs out of his pool and slips into mine. I move back to give him some space, but he continues to swim towards.
He grabs my wrist. "Although it was pretty funny, I can't help but notice that you were pretty violent with those animals."
"So?"
"So, I'm thinking that something is bothering you."
"Let's see, the puppy I gave away is dead now," I roll my eyes. "I wonder what could possibly be bothering me?"
"Don't be so mean."
"Then don't be so stupid."
Archer pulls me closer and wraps his arms around my waist, tugging me to his chest. Being attached to somebody in the water makes it difficult to keep yourself afloat. I struggle to keep myself balanced and fail. In the end, I grab onto the sides of Archer's shoulders to keep myself upright. He's so warm now that the only thing separating us is the thin layer of my wetsuit.
We're so close that I have to put my face between his chin and shoulders. Archer holds me closely as I rest my face against the curve of his neck.
"Sorry," I finally grumble.
He presses a kiss to the top of my head.
"We kill hundreds of wildlife because we think their fur is fashionable," The words rush out of me suddenly. "We kill thousands of dogs and cats because we don't have enough space enough for them. We kill millions of pigs and cows because we like the way they taste. It sucks.
"I know."
"A human can murder someone, rape someone, torture someone and we'd still wait years before even deciding to kill them. Humans are such hypocrites."
"I know."
"Poor Harper. He dies while Susan Smith will probably get a couple of years in jail and go free, probably so he can participate in more dog rings.
"You couldn't have stopped him."
"That's the point," I take a deep breath. "One day, I'm going to build an animal cult for real."
"And I'll still be your first human sacrifice."
"...thanks."
Archer kisses the top of my head. "No problem. Do you feel better now?"
"Yeah, I do," I glance at poor Squealer, floating in the other pool. I don't have to urge to crush him into tiny pieces anymore, so I guess that's a start. We float for a couple of seconds before I raise my head and ask. "Want to go home?"
"In a minute. It so happens that I brought my camera with me -"
"Oh my god Archer."
- () -
Next chapter: Secrets are revealed
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(0,0) - 200k, yummy.
/)....)
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Wow, can you believe that Crackers could talk this whole time? Thanks to betsiey, Except_unexpected, purplepiranha, mcknerd19, musicnote1099, and everybody who helped this book to get to so many reads!
Thanks for reading!
QotC: If you guys had a superpower, what would it be? (and if I see that cliche the power to refill things from the tumblr post, I'll kill you)
(just kidding, I love you guys)