“I think you look like him.”

“What?”
“You look like Dill Harris I swear!”
“Damien what are you going on about you know I do not!” Harvey said, brow furrowing.
“Nah, really though! Ya got the hair, like a little puff a white fairy floss, and the freckles on your nose, and I know ya have eyebrows but ya can’t really see them and I always kinda imagined Dill without real eyebrows. Also, ya know, you’re kinda little and all…”
“Damien,” Harvey warned, “I’m little and I know it, but do you really haveta bring it into every single conversation?” He closed his book. “I bet you think you look like Jem Finch, don’t you.”
“Well, ya aren’t wrong…” Damien started.
“As long as you keep telling me I’m short, I’ll keep coming up with reasons why you don’t look anything like Jem.
“But you’re a gnome and I do, I swear it!”
Harvey gave Damien a look, one of those looks Mama gave him when he was making too much noise on Sunday morning when Pops was trying to sleep in, and flinched when the bell rang. He got up and walked to the door, smiling at Miss Andersen as he passed her desk. He liked her, but he didn’t like the way her desk was always at least an inch thick with papers. It was like the more papers that added up, the less time she had to do anything else and she’d come to class with her hair curly instead of the usual straight and she’d call on random people, without looking to see who really raised their hand. Harvey didn’t like that.
Kitty was waiting outside the door for him and Damien. Together, they walked through the West Hall, dodging peeling green locker doors and flying paper airplanes thrown by the reeking eighth graders, and hurried toward the cafeteria.
Harvey sat down at the lunch table in his usual spot between Damien and Kitty. He looked around the cafeteria longingly. Damien took notice and asked gruffly if his quick scan was to see if Dolores had entered the cafeteria yet. Harvey looked down at his questionable fried chicken and reddened. He didn’t notice that this had made Damien’s face turn sour and arms cross. Of course he was looking for her, but he was inevitably embarrassed. Kitty caught on to his embarrassment and commented on how she’d seen Dolores earlier in the day and how she was wearing a lovely green dress that matched the brown and white oxfords she made a point to only wear on Thursday.
Harvey smiled to himself when he thought about those shoes. He admired the way that Dolores wore them to spite her friends who thought that ladies only wore shoes that looked like ballerina slippers and that oxfords were for boys. Harvey had heard something about how she even wore short trousers under her dresses just to spite the girls further, but he wasn’t one to perpetuate rumors.
Three weeks prior when he’d gone shoe shopping with Mama, Harvey had inadvertently picked out a pair that looked just like Dolores’s, except grey instead of brown and white. Mama had asked if he was sure those were what he wanted to be wearing instead of his usual sneakers, but he was firm, insisting that they were exactly what he wanted. He may have also inadvertently worn them last Thursday, but then taken them off and switched to his Phys Ed shoes when Damien bitterly pointed out the day of the week. He wasn’t wearing them that Thursday though. He remembered.
Harvey came back to reality when he felt one of the other boys sitting with them kick his shin under the table. He c***ed his head toward the cafeteria door and uttered something about “your girlfriend” and “can smell her chapstick from here.” Harvey liked her blue raspberry chapstick that all the boys seemed to despise, and always got a blue raspberry slushy at Mama’s convenience store because of it. His neck craned so he could see Dolores. Kitty giggled and pointed out how obvious he was being, but Harvey wasn’t fazed, he was smitten. He watched her flounce to her table and sit with her “sorta friends” as she called them, and he could have sworn he saw a peek of gray trouser at the hem of her dress. It was the same color as his oxfords and he couldn’t help but think that she knew and that’s why her Thursday trousers were grey.

*****
The rest of the day crawled by, seemingly endless to Harvey without a single glimpse of the subject of his admiration. Harvey was distraught on the first day of middle school when he found out that Dolores wasn’t in any of his classes. Kitty had reassured him that there probably weren’t any boys she would like in her classes and Damien stayed silent, mouth pressed into a grim line. Damien always got kind of strange when they brought Dolores up. Harvey wasn’t sure why, but his face always got a sort of stormy look to it like the time the lunch lady wouldn’t give him a second helping of his favorite potatoes on his birthday, and he’d stop talking which was uncharacteristic of him because he normally wouldn’t shut up. That was always something at the back of Harvey’s mind. He really didn’t like seeing his best friend get all sad like that, or anyone for that matter, but especially Damien.
He walked home through the ditches that day, which he wasn’t allowed to do on rainy days since some animals would slip and sometimes he’d come upon a real scary one struggling in the mud. Mama knew he loved animals but she had to explain to him that they didn’t know that and that a frozen soaking animal would probably rather a bite of his arm than a blanket. Harvey said he understood.
The ditches were particularly dry that day which was nice for collecting rocks since they weren’t all covered in slime. Harvey picked out a few, three for him and two for Damien, the prettiest being for Damien since he seemed upset that day.
Every day except Monday, he’d meet Damien at the convenience store at four o’clock sharp. As he was walking up the steps at 3:54, he noticed Damien already sitting at the counter, listening to one of Mary’s aimless stories about some party she went to at the university. Mary was nineteen and worked at the shop to make money for college, which she pretended was the university but was actually the community college two miles north of it. She was mighty annoying, and only really got the job because her mother was a friend of Harvey’s.
Mary’s head turned when the little bell above the door jingled and shouted “Well hey there little man come and have yourself a seat right here!” She spun around to the slushy machine and started pouring his usual blue raspberry. Damien hadn’t said a word to him and didn’t look up from his cherry cola. Harvey figured maybe talking wasn’t the best idea so he slipped the two rocks out of his pocket and onto the counter, dragging them noisily under his palm toward Damien’s cola glass. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Harvey’s slushy didn’t taste good that day. It made his head hurt.

****
Somehow the next week ended up being the hottest that West Virginia had seen that year, causing mass thermostat breakdowns and an overwhelming amount of calls for Harvey’s father. As one of two businesses involving fixing things in a moderately rural area, Montgomery Mechanics was the best choice, and Mr. Montgomery was the one to call. This of course made his presence scarce, and Harvey was reluctant to start a conversation with him when he was home for fear of him having to leave on a call without finishing the subject. Harvey wanted terribly to talk to his father about Dolores, both to ask his expert advice – Harvey had heard from locals he was quite the ladies man in middle school – and to consolidate his evidence to see if he really had a shot with her.
The day before, he had finally had a breakthrough and he was almost positive he had blown it. Dolores was walking out to the bus all by herself and had spotted Harvey by his pungent locker and decided for some reason to say hello. Caught entirely by surprise, he slammed his locker shut so as to not let the smell of his gym socks and old lunches waft over to her, but he was pretty sure that he’d scared her more than anything. Her eyes and nose twitched when Harvey’s locker door crashed closed, but she was quickly distracted by her own question of what was Harvey doing that weekend. Acting like the girl-moron he believed himself to be, Harvey said he was real busy with Damien and probably riding his bike and maybe going to the convenience store. Dolores’ eyes brightened when he mentioned the store and she asked if that was the store that sold the “darn good blue razz slushies.” Harvey couldn’t believe she even knew it existed and fumbled over his words, muttering something along the lines of “they taste the way your chapstick smells,” which he later came to realize was incredibly creepy. If Dolores heard him, she ignored his comment and told him she had to get going or else the bus would leave without her, and rushed off toward the door. Harvey couldn’t believe himself.
After school, Harvey found himself pedaling his bike madly down the trail toward Damien’s house. Damien was the only person he could really talk to, and he couldn’t put off talking with him any longer. Tires bumped over pebbles and stones, and then hurled Harvey over the handlebars after colliding with a blackened tree root. Harvey’s bike came rambling up behind him and over his head, landing him in a strained pretzel position, with one hand through the spokes and the other tangled with the oily snapped chain. He groaned lowly but didn’t bother to get up. His face turned every color of red lipstick he’d ever seen Mama wear and tried his best not to scream for her. Harvey bet at least a hundred clouds had passed across the sky and possibly a single tear had wet his dusty cheek before he even considered getting up.
As he steadied his legs to pull his arms out of the bike, he heard footsteps crunching the gravel somewhere not far behind him. Damien’s voice echoed, “Ya alright there Harvey? I was doing the dishes and could see ya from the kitchen window. Didn’t see ya fall though what did ya do?”
Harvey suddenly wondered why Damien was being so friendly after a week of hardly speaking to him, but his chest surged with gratitude that he was acting normal.
“I just got distracted man I dunno.”
“Somethin’ wrong with ya? Come inside Gramma just made a pie we can have some and I’ll see if I can fix up that chain.”
Harvey was hesitant for a fraction of a second but caved; Damien’s grandma’s strawberry rhubarb pie was worth the awkward conversation he knew waited in Damien’s garage. Harvey hoisted himself up and Damien gathered the two pieces of bike chain that had whipped out over the brush. They walked steadily toward Damien’s back porch and creaked open the screen door into the kitchen.
“Hey Gramma we’re just gonna grab us a slice a rhubarb-berry then get a wiggle on over to the garage to try an’ fix Harvey’s bike,” Damien hollered out to the adjoining den where his grandma sat reading a magazine. The plates clinked as he ambled around the cabinets to the pie that sat on the window, and he carefully cut two “eyes-bigger-than-your-stomach” kind of pieces. He thrust the plate into the crook of Harvey’s elbow that didn’t have a bike slung over it, and they marched back down the porch and to the garage.
Harvey set down his bike and went to town on his pie. Damien stared at the wall for a minute, seemingly collecting his thoughts, then opened his toolbox and rummaged around for extra pieces of bike chain. Without looking up he mumbled, “So how’s Dolores?”
Harvey’s stomach felt like it sank to the seat of his trousers and his face got the feeling where it was so hot it felt cold. He couldn’t immediately reply and continued chewing.
“She’s good I guess. She said hey to me the other day and we talked a little about what we were thinking of doing on the weekend. Otherwise nothing really.”
“Now level with me, are you thinking ya wanna go steady with her?”
Harvey chuckled when Damien said that. Something he liked about Damien was his violent opposition to using modern-day slang and insistence upon using terms like “going steady.” Ever since Dolores, Damien hadn’t thrown that term around like he did before and Harvey felt reassured hearing it again.
“I guess. I mean I kinda scared her a little when she came up to me because I slammed my locker door so she wouldn’t smell the moldy sandwich I still haven’t taken out.”
Harvey could have sworn he saw the sides of Damien’s mouth perk up a little on the sides but they were quickly shoved back down by the frowning edges of his eyebrows.
“I don’t think she’s any good for ya. She may seem like the bee’s knees ta you but do you see how she is around her friends?” Damien offered.
“Well of course but it’s her friends that are lame not her. She’s just being herself. I like that about her.”
“I dunno about her Harvey I really don’t. Just don’t be a sap for her cause you think she’s a doll, make sure you really like her for her.”
“Why are you so darn concerned Damien?”
“Just—just remember that old thing your mama told ya when you started chasin’ girls.”
“What thing?”
“Ya know ‘Don’t fall in love with the moment and think you’re in love with the girl.’”
Harvey couldn’t respond. Something about the way Damien had said girl, like he was talking with a sour candy in his mouth and couldn’t quite spit the word out without a little bit of the bitter sweet too, had struck a strange note in his mind. Damien took his lack of a response as an answer and stood up hastily.
“I think I better go do homework now. Sorry I couldn’t fix your bike.”
And with that he sulked back toward his house.

****
The spring grass was stained knees, eyes scratching. Around the shop, air smelled ripe with winter fruits rotting into the pavement, clementine trees bare boned, swaying over the mess they made. On the counter, tall glasses were sweating, drips creeping ever so slowly toward the wary hand of the beholder below. Harvey’s neck felt like the glass looked and he couldn’t stand it any more.
“Mary would you just turn the stupid fan on? It smells something fierce in here with all that rotten fruit lying around we gotta blow it out the damn window!”
“I told ya Harv, I can’t go messin up my nice hairdo; I’ve got a date to-night!” Mary paused, coral licked lips rolling in before continuing. “How are you and that Dolores birdie doin? Anything new?”
Harvey sank his chin into his palm, mouth fumbling with the straw in his drink, and stared out the window. Little white flowers that the girls at school made chains with were scattered on the gray brick walkway leading to the door. He moved his eyes up toward Mary without budging his eyelids and sighed, “It seems that my life is at an impasse Mary.”
“Now what do you mean using that big old word kiddo?”
“I mean that I’ve gotta make a decision but it’s a checkmate like how I always get you in chess.”
“You cheat!”
“Do not! But that’s beside the point. I gotta make a choice on something and it’s a real one way or the other type of deal.”
Mary set her dingy cleaning rag over the faucet and ambled around the counter to sit next to Harvey. “Tell me about it then. I know a whole lot of stuff about choices. Maybe more then ya think.”
“Well alright,” Harvey began. He pressed the pad of his thumb into the cloudy glass that covered the counter. “I think Damien loves me. Like the way I love Dolores. And I don’t know what to do because I love him a whole lot just not like that and I know how he reacts to things that make him sad and he’s always blaming himself. You know what he did when his grampa kicked off?”
Mary shook her head.
“He ate nothing but strawberries. Strawberries for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner, just strawberries.”
“That’s a little drastic, huh. Did he get sick?”
“Well yeah but…”
“Why didn’t he stop then?”
“Mary I’m telling you he does things that hurt him when he’s sad!”
“But strawberries how funny. What was he thinkin’?”
“Mary, he’s allergic to strawberries. He was covered in hives for a whole week. That was the point.”
Mary’s eyes lowered to the floor, and she brought her finger to her crooked teeth to chew on thoughtfully. “I don’t know Harv. What are you gonna do about Damien?”
“Thing is, Mama’s always told me that sometimes you have to put yourself first. Think about what’s best for you, and maybe that isn’t what looks best but in the end it’s the flowers in your head, the ones only you can see, that you gotta take care of. In the end you’re all you got. And even though I know she’s right, Damien is the other only thing I got besides myself. We’ve never not been apart and I could wreck that with one wrong word.
“I’ve been thinking about it a whole lot, ever since last week the day I took a spill off my bike and we talked for a little. I wanted to ask him for advice on Dolores but he asked me about her first and it all went downhill. He told me that she’s no good for me and that he thinks I shouldn’t be with her. I think it would break him if I really went after her seriously, and I’m thinking there’s a big chance that we wouldn’t stay friends. I love Dolores but I can’t do this to Damien.”
“Damn it, Harvey why d’you gotta be so thoughtful! You shouldn’t have to be worryin’ about things like these.” Mary traced her temples with her fingertips and breathed out slowly through her nose. “I think you gotta be true to what your thinkin’. The thing that you’re thinkin’ you should do when ya been kept up until dawn thinkin’, that’s what ya should do. Your mama’s right ya know. Think about Damien and Dolores, but think about yourself.”
Mary wrapped her wiry arm around Harvey’s unsteady shoulders. “Whatever ya do, I’ll still be here with a slushy and a story of a date gone wrong for ya. Always kiddo.”
Harvey drew his lips in tight with appreciation but didn’t smile.
“I think I know what I’m gonna do Mary. I think I got it.”