This was the reality of the world. People didn’t just ignore weakness. They resented it. They saw vulnerability as an invitation, a blank canvas to project their own ugly insecurities onto. These three were bored, cold, and miserable. Harper was just a prop they could use to entertain themselves. Logan took a step closer. The smell of vanilla vape smoke thickened. He blew a long stream of it outward. The warm, humid air brushed against Harper’s cheek. “Hey,” Logan said. His voice was suddenly louder, directed squarely at her. “Can you hear me?”
Harper didn’t answer. She kept her earbud in, pretending she was entirely absorbed in whatever was playing. Logan snapped his fingers directly in front of her face. The sharp crack of skin on skin echoed right off her nose. The air displaced by the movement brushed her eyelashes. “Yo, deaf and blind,” Logan mocked. “Logan, stop.” Britney giggled. “She’s ignoring you.” “Nobody ignores me,” Logan said. The dragging heel shifted. He leaned in. “Hey, Stevie Wonder. I’m talking to you.”
Harper finally reached up and slowly pulled the single earbud out. She turned her face toward him. She didn’t look at his face. She didn’t know exactly where his eyes were. So she aimed her chin at the center of his chest. “Can I help you?” she asked. Her voice was flat. Calm. “Yeah,” Logan said, his tone dripping with mock politeness. “You’re taking up a lot of space in this shelter. My girl is getting wet. How about you step out?”
Harper calculated the dimensions of the shelter in her head. It was at least ten feet long. The four of them could comfortably stand inside it without ever touching. “There’s plenty of room,” Harper said, keeping her tone devoid of emotion. “The bus will be here in five minutes.” “I don’t think you heard me,” Logan said. His voice dropped an octave. The playful mockery was gone, replaced by a dull, thudding hostility. “I said, step out.”
He took another step forward. He was inside her personal space now, less than two feet away. Harper could hear the rhythmic, slightly congested whistle of his breathing. She could feel the heat radiating off his oversized jacket. Arthur’s voice echoed in her memory. Distance is your first line of defense. When they breach it, they have made a choice. You must make yours. Harper tightened her grip on her cane. The rough graphite bit into her calluses. “I’m staying right here,” Harper said quietly.
Caleb snorted. “Tough girl.” “Listen, bitch,” Logan sneered. He reached out and tapped the center of her chest with a heavy index finger. A hard, prodding poke. “Move.” The touch was electric. Harper’s body reacted before her conscious mind did. Her feet, previously parallel, naturally staggered just a fraction of an inch. Her weight dropped, settling low into her hips. It wasn’t an aggressive stance, just a rooting. She became heavy, unmovable. “Don’t touch me,” Harper said. The flatness was gone from her voice. It was replaced by something cold, something dense.
