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“Shoot shoot shoot!” Harold whispered to himself as he runs in the hallway. He was supposed to meet George during lunch about seven minutes ago, but he was busy trying to find his drawing that he was going to use for a comic. He looked in his backpack for a couple minutes but couldn’t find it, so he ran to his locker. He struggled with the lock, being in a rush and all but still couldn’t find it. He must’ve left it at home, he concluded after he couldn’t find it in his locker, so he decided to go back to lunch with George. He rushed past a couple other kids, who were also probably heading to lunch.
Harold turns the corner and—
SLAM!!
Pain surrounded his body as he ran into something. He dropped the notebook he was holding, papers inside of it spilling out all over the floor. Harold gripped his rib in pain, his vision a little blurry after he fell. He looked up and saw someone else who fell too. It took him a moment to realize who it was.
Melvin.
Melvin stands after adjusting his glasses, picking up Harold’s papers and neatening it out, somehow not hurt as much as Harold’s ribs were.
“My apologies, Harold, but you shouldn’t run in the hallways. It’ll save me from having a heart attack again.”
Harold stands, one bruise on his arm and two more small ones on his left leg. “Yeah, thanks, Melvin.”
Melvin furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, I was just warning you. You could get hurt again, you rotten mango..” Melvin muttered the last three words.
“You didn’t have to be so rude about it.” Harold rolled his eyes, snatching his notebook and strewn papers from him, papers sticking out from the side, diverse from before when it was neat. Melvin furrowed his eyebrows more and crossed his arms. “Do you have a problem, Hutchins?” Melvin sneered his last name.
Harold noticed Melvin used his last name whenever he was annoyed, but it’s been happening more and more. Melvin also rarely calls George, ‘Beard,’ so why does he always call Harold by ‘Hutchins?’
Harold sighed. “No…thanks for getting my notebooks..” He mumbled.
Melvin smirked. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you, Hutchins.” Melvin teased, stepping closer, poking his notebook. Their noses were close to touching.
“No, thanks for picking up my papers..” Harold frowned, holding his notebook to his chest, looking away, embarrassed. Harold noticed Melvin was clutching a corner of a paper that he didn’t have before crashing into Harold, but looked away, forgetting about it. Other kids were looking at the two of them as they walked by.
———————
Harold finally got away from Melvin, and went to lunch. He was lucky Melvin didn’t tattle on him for running in the hallways and running into him.
“Hey, where were you? Did something happen?” George ran up to him as Harold walked towards the table. “And why do you have a bruise?” He asked, poking at the one on his arm. Harold sighed. “I ran into Melvin and crashed. I have a couple bruises on my legs, too.” Harold lifted his leg a little so George could see. “Owh. Was he a douchebag about it?” They both slowly went to their table. “No.. not really. He was still mean, but not as mean. At least he’s not gonna tattle.”
“Tattle? For what?”
“Running in the halls and running into his- ‘oh so perfect body.’” Harold quoted mockingly.
“Oh. Oh yeah.” George giggled, but stopped when Harold didn’t giggle too. “Sorry, man. Do the bruises still hurt?”
“No, they’re okay.”
“That’s good.” George smiled. “Anyways..” George got out a couple papers with writing on them.
Then Harold remembered why he was late in the first place. “Shoot.” Harold slapped his forehead. “I forgot my drawing at home, I think. I can’t find it anywhere.” Harold frowned, feeling guilty.
“Really? I thought I saw it this morning.” George then shoved a couple gummy worms into his mouth. “Ahh, I don’t remember.” Harold said, searching through his memories to try and remember where he put it.
“OH!” Harold gasped in surprise, his voice echoing. A couple other students surrounding their table looked at them. Harold slumped down slightly in embarrassment. “I remember where I put it!” George payed more attention, leaning towards him a bit.
“I put it in-“ Harold paused. He stared at the floor for a second, the cogs in his head moving and turning. “Melvin.” He muttered. “You put it in Melvin?” George giggled. Harold blushed at the image in his head.
“No no- my new drawing notebook- I put it in a paper pocket- and when I crashed into Melvin, papers flied everywhere on the floor. Melvin picked most of them up but he had a paper in his hand. I don’t think he had it before I crashed into him.”
“How do you know he didn’t have a paper before?”
“Uhh..well I don’t know. The paper looked similar to mine.”
“Well, let’s go ask him.” George said, standing up and looking around for Melvin. “He’s over there.” He said, pointing at Melvin, who was sitting alone with half a table to himself.
Harold furrowed his eyebrows, seeing that same paper next to Melvin’s lunch meal.“Let’s go.” Harold said, quickly walking to Melvin, with George following.
“Melvin!” Harold exclaimed, standing in front of Melvin, on the opposite side of the table. Melvin looked up from the book he was reading. “Hello, Harold. George.” He acknowledged. “Do you need something?”
“Uh- yeah!” Harold said rudely. “That paper is mine!” Melvin looked at the paper next to his lunch, grabbed it, and put it in his pocket. “No, it’s not.” He said quietly, very obviously lying. “Give it back! It took me three hours to draw it!”
Melvin scoffed. “But it’s not yours.”
“Then show him what it looks like.” George said. Melvin was out of words, his mouth gaping a little in surprised. “I- No!” He furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s none of your business what my paper looks like, you uncooked dough batter.” Melvin stood up. “Melvin, give it back.” Harold said sternly, holding out his hand.
More and more kids were looking at the three of them, not knowing what was going on. They started whispering and murmuring.
Melvin looked around nervously. “Come on, Melvin. Just give it back!” Harold attempted to grab his arm, but Melvin pulled back. “No, Hutchins! I told you that it’s not yours!”
“Melvin, come on.” George said from beside Harold. Melvin blew raspberries at him. George scoffed. “Let’s just go, Harold. He’s never gonna give it back.” George whispered to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “But it took me a long time to make it!” Harold whisper yelled. “I know, I know.” George looked worried.
Melvin was smirking now, though a little faltered- probably because a lot of people were staring at the three of them. “I want it back, Melvin.” Harold walked forward a little bit, again holding his hand out. He scoffed. “As if.” George tugged him, trying to pull him back. “C’mon, Harold.”
“No, I want it back.” Harold said out loud. Melvin said nothing, instead crossing his arms in a sassy way.
Harold was mad. He quickly walked to the opposite side of the table, and grabbed Melvin’s arm. “Give it!” Now he yelled. The whole lunch was staring at them, still whispering and murmuring. “Let go of me, you deceased rat!” Melvin ripped away his arm. “Just give it back!” Harold grabbed his arm with both of his hands. The lunch started getting louder, instead of whispering, they talked out loud.
Melvin tried tugging away his arm again, unsuccessfully. His eyes were wide, his eyebrows were fully raised, and his pale cheeks were flushing red.
He was scared.
Harold felt a moment of pity, looking around at students who were staring at them.
Melvin quickly wiped off his scared expression, tugged his arm back violently, and landed a big—
SMACK!
Right on Harold’s cheek. He placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of it bloom across his face. The world had gone mute for a second, but he quickly zoned back in.
“What the heck, Melvin?!” George exclaimed, holding Harold’s arm. “He deserved it! He was manhandling me!” Melvin said, pointing at Harold. “Why do you want his paper anyways?“ George asked, still holding Harold’s arm. “Uh, because it’s mINE!-“
Melvin yelled mid-sentence as Harold suddenly tackled him. They both fell to the floor, not very gracefully. The lunch room blew up, some kids yelling and others running closer to see what was happening. Harold shoved his hand into Melvin’s pocket and grabbed the paper, but Melvin grabbed the other side and pulled it to himself. “Let go of it, you freak!” Melvin yelled, trying to crawl out from under him as well as have the paper. “Harold!” He heard George call out to him, but he ignored him. They played Tug-Of-War with the paper until Melvin let go of the paper and punched Harold right in the face. It hurt more than he thought a punch from Melvin would. He let go of the paper and clutched his nose, and half of his cheek, where Melvin punched. He let out a groan of pain. Melvin grabbed the paper, crunching it in his hands as he struggled to get Harold off of him.
“What is going on here?!” The lunch went silent as their principal, as well as a couple teachers, entered the lunch. “George, Harold— Melvin-“ Krupp looked at Melvin last. “What did you three do this time?”
———————
“I can’t believe Harold got me in trouble.” Melvin muttered to himself. He was writing sentences on the chalk board in the Detention Room because he had slapped and punched Harold. Harold didn’t get detention because “Melvin started it first” even though Harold tackled him.
Sometimes he wondered which side Krupp was on, considering he didn’t give Harold any form of punishment. Krupp also made Melvin give back the paper he stole from Harold.
Other students had told Krupp and some teachers about the fight, which was how they found out. “Talk about me being a tattletale.” He muttered to himself again.
It was 5:20pm, and he had 40 more minutes until he was allowed to go. Krupp called his parents and his mom seemed very worried. He was miserable in this classroom, and he would be even more when he got home. He had anger and regret that boiled in his veins because of Harold.
He suddenly heard the window moving and cluttering from the opposite side of the room. Fear spiked through him as the sound jump scared him. He turned around and saw Harold with a straightened out paper clip in the lock of the detention room window.
Harold was also wearing a grey, unzipped hoodie because it was particularly cold that night.
Melvin gaped for a minute until Harold finally unlocked the window and lifted it up.
“Hey.” He said. He sounded more quiet, more awkward. This guy just broke into the Detention Room and all he said was “hey”?!
“What- what are you doing here? And why’d you break in?!”
“I want to get you out of here..I just feel bad.” Harold said. His expression proved his words. “I was thinking I could break you out of here so you don’t have to write more sentences.”
Melvin scoffed. “You make it sound like it’s a prison break.”
He paused. “And I.. like the offer, but I’m pretty sure Krupp will check if I’ve written sentences for the next 40 minutes.” Melvin said.
“Just say you erased it.” Harold shrugged.
“How many times have you broken out of detention to have a full on plan—“ He stopped himself. “You know what, never mind. Anyways… yes, I suppose that plan could work, he’s not that bright anyways.”
He paused.
“What’s the benefit for you?” Melvin asked, crossing his arms.
“Not feeling guilty.” Harold responded, looking away for a second and nervously smiling.
“Hm.” Melvin raised an eyebrow.
“What’s the point of writing them if you can get away with it? You said Krupp isn’t that smart so who cares?”
Melvin knew he shouldn’t try to break out.. but forty minutes in this room felt like five hours, especially since he was bored.
Melvin made his decision and quickly erased his sentences with a chalk remover sponge and looked at the detention door nervously. He looked back at Harold, who was sticking his arm through the window for him, waiting. Melvin bit his lip softly. He would admit, he was a little scared. He brushed his nerves off to the side, and quickly jogged to Harold.
He grabbed Harold’s hand with his right hand and grabbed Harold’s wrist with his left hand. Melvin lifted a leg and went over the window. When he landed, the stench of freshly cut grass hit his nose. It felt humid and cold outside. Both his feet touched the ground, still holding hands with Harold. He was out of the detention room, and finally outside. He looked back at the window, closed it, and locked it with one hand, so Krupp wouldn’t figure out he broke out.
He looked back at Harold, who was staring at him the whole time. They both looked away awkwardly.
“Soo.. wanna get cupcakes..?”
———————
As he and Harold approached The Cupcake Shop, holding hands, Harold pulled out a 20 dollar bill out of his hoodie pocket. “Where’d you get that?” Melvin asked, trying to act casual. “Me and George save up twenty five cents every time we sell comics, so we get a lot of money.” Melvin nodded, understanding. It was quiet now, the only sounds were owls hooting, crickets chirping, and shuffling of feet on sidewalk. It was dark outside, the sun only slightly peeking up.
“Why’d you want my drawing?” Harold asked a couple minutes later. Melvin’s ears turned red. “Uh. I don’t know.” His lips quivered when Harold looked at him. “C’mon, tell me.” He said, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “I liked it.” He murmured. “Hm?” Harold barely heard him. “Ugh, I liked it. It was a good drawing, okay?” Harold smirked. “Thanks.” Melvin tried to hide his smile, but it didn’t work. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smile like that to someone.
The shop’s bell rung as Harold opened the door. The shop was quite busy, even though it was 5:35pm on a Thursday. They went inside and looked at the menu. “So, what are you gonna get?” Harold asked, looking at the tasty treats on the menu. “Probably the Vanilla Purple Castle. It’s a vanilla cupcake with yellow frosting and a mini chocolate purple castle on it.” Melvin explained gleefully, his eyes glittering as he looked at the cupcakes on display. “Sounds delicious! I’m gonna get the Caramel Sprinkled Chocolate cupcake. It’s a chocolate cupcake with uh-“ Harold looked at the menu again. “With brown frosting and caramel sprinkled on the top.” Harold giggled, obviously excited for the cupcakes.
Harold handed the twenty dollar bill to the cashier and they both sat down on the high rise seats next to the main counters. The chairs were too far apart for them to keep holding hands, so they separated. “Are we going to eat here or somewhere else?” Melvin asked. “Let’s eat somewhere else, it’s too loud here.”
“Here’s your cupcakes, gentlemen.” The cashier smiled brightly and gave them their cupcakes and a couple spare napkins. “Thanks.” They said at the same time. Harold giggled and stood up. Melvin followed and they both went out the door, the bell ringing again.
“Let’s go sit on that bench.” Harold said, pointing at a brown bench across the road, illuminated by a light yellow street light. “Sure.” Melvin agreed. They both looked across the road before jogging across it. Melvin sat down first, grabbing a couple of the spare napkins the cashier gave them and giving the rest to Harold, who sat down very close to him, their thighs almost touching, despite there being tons of room on the bench.
They both ate their cupcakes quietly, looking around awkwardly, glancing at each other every now and then. “Can I try some of that castle?” Harold asked. Melvin had already bitten the top of it, but Harold didn’t seem to mind. Melvin broke off a chunk and handed it to Harold. “Thanks.” He said while eating it. Melvin watched as he chewed, until Harold looked at him. They both finished their cupcakes, and threw it away in a nearby trash can.
“Why’d you want to get cupcakes?” Melvin asked. “I just thought it’d be nice.” Harold said, shrugging.
“Also..here.” Harold said, putting his hand into his pocket and taking out a slightly crumpled paper. The paper from earlier, the one they fought over, Melvin realized. “I figured maybe you wanted it.” Melvin took it, unfolding it and looking at it. It was a drawing of a new monster villain they were going to use in a comic. “Wow…thanks.” Melvin felt delighted. He really liked the drawing, surprisingly.
“I’m sorry that I stole your drawing earlier.” Melvin muttered, but loud enough for Harold to hear since they were right next to each other. “It’s fine, just ask next time.” Harold said, placing a hand on the bench next to Melvin’s, their pinkies touching.
It was obvious that he wanted to hold hands again. Melvin placed his hand on Harold’s and lightly squeezed, Harold doing the same. He could see Harold smiling in the corner of his eye, making Melvin do the same. He wasn’t sure why they were holding hands, heck he wasn’t even sure if he liked boys, but it was comfortable. He liked it.
“Hey.” Harold spoke up. Melvin looked at him. “Wanna get cupcakes tomorrow?”