The Tell-Tale Con by Aimee Gilchrist

I’m practically an adult.  I don’t know what the problem is.  I mean I’m in high school.  Or I will be…next year.”
    He backed away slightly, bumping into a trashcan before righting himself.  “Wow.  You look…much older.” 
    â€œRight?  I get that a lot.”
    â€œWell, okay.  Nice meeting you.”  He turned and ran back to his friends, like I was going to pursue him and cover him with the germs of my thirteen-ness. 
    I snorted. 
    â€œNicely done.  I’m impressed.”
    Heart tripping wildly, I jerked around and found Harrison sitting on the stairs that led up to The Library’s massive double doors.  He had his leg slightly propped on a lower step and was holding an iPad, though he was looking at me instead. 
    â€œJeez, Harrison.  You scared the hell out of me.  Why did I never see you before, and now you’re everywhere?”
    It was kind of a rude thing to say, but seriously.  Granted he was sitting in front of his own house, so it wasn’t like he was following me around or something, but still, it bugged me. 
    â€œMaybe you weren’t looking before.”
    He was right.  Two weeks ago I would never have remotely noticed my lab partner sitting out on the stairs.  But now he was Harrison. 
    â€œFair enough.”
    â€œI thought I was going to have to play white knight, but you handled that guy with no problem.  How’d you know he wouldn’t be into the idea of dating a middle schooler?”
    â€œI’m good at reading people.  I knew he wouldn’t want trouble.  Anyway, if he’d have kept it up, I’d have thought of something else.”
    â€œYou’re pretty resourceful.”  Harrison didn’t look happy about it.  Maybe he was Mr. Wong part two, thinking I wasn’t careful enough. 
    Or that I should own a laundry.  One or the other. 
    â€œI’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”  I didn’t want to have this conversation anymore, so I put the focus on him instead.  “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed with that leg elevated?”
    He shrugged, his demeanor turning sullen.  “I needed to be…outside.” 
    If he was anything like me, he’d really been about to say, “Away from my family.”  Going outside in this weather even with a sore leg was sometimes worth it when it came to escaping family. 
    â€œUnderstood.  Are you in pain?”
    His mouth pressed.  I had the distinct impression he was debating whether or not he wanted to lie to me.  I was gratified at his decision.  “Yeah, kind of.  But not enough to keep me in bed.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t be playing He-Man.”
    His brow wrinkled, and I realized, with horror, that he had no clue who He-Man was.  “You don’t know who He-Man is?  Fur-covered Speedo?  Really terrible haircut?  His mortal enemy is a skeleton with a whiny voice?”  I sighed.  “Look it up on YouTube.”
    The corners of his lips hitched.  “Yeah, it’s coming back to me now.”
    â€œI can’t believe you don’t watch old cartoons, as obsessed as you seem to be with eighties TV and movies.” 
    â€œMy dad didn’t let me watch cartoons.  I cut my teeth on Stanley Kubrick and William Friedkin.”  He was quiet for a second, then added, “I’ve seen Scooby-Doo .”
    I had no clue who William Friedkin was, but I knew that Kubrick was one crazy dude who made some crazy movies.  “That’s kind of…intense.”
    He shrugged.  “If it wasn’t intense it wouldn’t be good enough for Dad.  He admires the people who jack with their actors.  The more intense the experience, the better.  He was a huge fan of the directors of The Blair Witch Project once he found out that they kept the actors