"I think I'd like a little company."

***

When Francesca's name appear on my phone, I immediately answered it.

"Hello?" I answered, biting my lower lip to restrain any smile that made me feel like an idiot.

"Hey France. Sorry for calling so late." Her voice was low.

"Give me a second." I stepped quickly towards the living room, where I saw Lola sitting on the couch. I could only make out the back of her head, which at least to me appeared to be she was engrossed in whatever Asian drama show she was watching.

I quickly slipped down the hall towards my room, closing the door behind me as quietly as I can. Lola can be nosy sometimes so it was best to keep her far away from this.

"I'm back," I said into the phone. "I didn't want to mention a girl in front of Lola this late at night."

If it wasn't for the faint background noises I heard in the phone, I would've assumed that the call ended.

"Lola? Who is Lola?" she finally asked, her tone changing to curiosity.

I blinked. For a moment, it sounded like she was jealous.

But that was probably in my head. 

"Lola is what I call my grandmother," I answered, sitting on the my worn out bed. 

"Oh okay," she responded, her voice getting slightly louder. I suddenly heard a dog barking, followed by her shushing.

"I don't need to ask what you are up to. It's clear you have Satan over," I said, referring to her demon dog who bit me.

She gasped loudly. "Don't say that about my sweet dog," she insisted, her voice warming at the mention of him. "I was watching something and he came over to sit next to me. He's the cutest thing."

I snorted. "Debatable."

"What is can be cuter than my dog then?" she asked.

"Me for one."

My smile dropped.

Why the hell did I say that? 

Dumbass, France. Literal dumbass. 

My cheeks instantly warmed when I said it. My mind was trying to figure out what came over me to even say that. She remained silent on the other side. I felt my phone beeped from a new message.

I pulled my phone away from my ear to open the message and see a selfie Francesca took with her dog.

"You're telling me you can beat my Bruno?" I barely heard her ask.

Her dog was stretched out on her bed, burying his most of his face under her duvet. I was more interested in the person in the photo. I zoomed on the side, studying her hair tied back into a messy bun. She was holding up a peace sign with a relaxed smile. 

How did someone this late in the night looked this good?

"I can do the same pose as the demon dog and we can compare," I said, managing to pull myself away from the photo and put my ear back onto the phone.

She laughed loudly, and my stomach churned with something that felt like joy. "So you called to tell me your dog is cuter than me?" I mused.

She immediately went quiet at the question. I heard the faint noises from her movie in the background. 

"I wanted to show you this paper I found at school the other day," she said in a strange voice. I gripped the phone tighter to my ear, barely making out her voice.

"You called me to show me a piece of paper?" I asked with confusion. I heard her take a loud inhale and exhale.

"I just want to say this isn't normally like me to call," she began.

My stomach dropped at the realization that she is trying to share something important.

"Why do I feel like you're about to tell me you're pregnant and I'm the father," I joked, trying to break the tension. She remained silent at the other end, making my mouth dry. This reminds me when I try to crack a joke with the guys, who also give a similar response.

"I texted you a picture," France said quietly. My phone buzzed right on cue with the notification.

I put her on speaker, looking at the image she sent.

My stomach twisted at the words etched in large black ink.

Terrorist.

"What the hell is this?" my voice strained. 

Red marks were smeared on the paper, along with additional print at the bottom.

You will never belong here.

Who writes like this?

"This fell out of Archy's locker the other day," Francesca responded, her voice growing somber. "I picked it up and only looked at it now."

I kept looking at the picture, my eyes following the same lines over and over again. All the oxygen immediately left my lungs, leaving a painful sensation in my chest.

"France?" she quietly called for me. "You there?"

"When has this been happening? Has...Has he been getting a lot of this?" I managed to say, feeling suddenly nauseous at the image.

"I don't know."

"Who did this?"

I heard faint noises in the background.

"I don't know, France," she repeated softly.

I shook my head at the image. "This has to be a joke," I said. "This cannot be real. Archy is popular."

He was the guy that got invited to all the parties and knew basically everyone at our school. If I had to count who had the most friends, it would be him. He literally had fans. He was spotted by a recruiter to go to Stanford.

This makes no sense.

Is someone harassing him?

"I know," she simply responded.

"He was homecoming king last year for our grade. He probably is going to be prom king this year," I repeated, trying to wrap my head around it. "He needs to do something about it." 

We needed to talk to Archy. To figure out what is this horrible message that left me sick to my bones.

My eyes closed at a new realization forming in my head.

"Archy won't talk about this," I sighed with resignation.

"What are you talking about? Bring it up to him" she insisted.

I closed my eyes tightly and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "He doesn't like to talk about things like this. Maybe with the exception of today, he's so unconfrontational. If he is going through this, he won't say it."

Archy always was the optimist. He was probably the only one who will try to see the good in things and if anything bad is going on, the last to bring it up with the hopes it will go away.

"Today?" she repeated, her voice filled with a questioning tone.

I groaned at the memory from earlier. "Alex and Archy got into it today. Archy...just blew up on him. He was upset and barely wanted to talk about it after," I clarified, recalling his silence while eating our ice cream after.

"What are we going to do if Archy won't talk?" she asked.

"We?" I said, a smile growing on my face. "So you're helping me out after all?"

She snorted. "Do you not remember the dinner you practically begged me to help?" 

"I wouldn't say begging. You just have information I needed to know," I said. I thought back to the message and I grew somber. "I have a strong feeling I know who this might be coming from."

Lennie. It must be him. He was the only guy who has been harassing Archy. It had to be him.

"That guy at the Halloween party with the bad hair dye job?" she asked.

I almost wanted to laugh at her description of Lennie.

"Yeah, Lennie. He and his annoying friends had it out for Archy since he joined the football team. They were already the worst before so I wouldn't be surprised if they are involved in this. It's probably them," I proposed.

"If Archy won't say anything, we need actual proof though it's them," she said. "If we say it, they will just deny it." 

"Then how you suggest we go about this?" I asked. 

 "What if we catch them putting stuff in Archy's locker? I think the notes have been coming for a while. If we can catch him, then we can actually do something with proof," she explained, stifling back a yawn.

"We can do that," I agreed. I thought about Archy for a moment before I settled back onto my bed. "I hope Archy is okay."

"Me too."  She yawed again.

"You're tired, Franny," I declared.

She made a noise of displeasure. "Yeah it's getting a late. I'm usually going to bed around then. I'm already in my fuzzy pajamas and under the sheets. This movie is longer than I remember it to be."

She hummed with content, making me smile.

"That sounds nice," I said, feeling myself relax on the bed. "What are you watching?"

"Pride and Prejudice. The one with Keira Knightley."

"Oh, that's nice," I said though I never watched it. "I didn't know there were multiple versions."

"Well I prefer BBC series that was released in 1995," she began, her voice perking up. "I thought it was the truest to the story and captured the essence of the novel, but Akito kept insisting this one is better."

"Hmm," I mused, listening to her voice. I put my head on my pillow, listening to her talk about the cinematography and soundtrack of the one she is watching now. Her voice was so happy talking about the differences between the BBC show and movie, making me close my eyes and take her in.

"Anyways I am only watching this movie to just tell Akito I watched it and he's wrong," she concluded. "The BBC series is objectively better at capturing the spirit of the book."

"That kid is a genius, so good luck proving him wrong," I said. I never argued with Akito about movies, but if I knew one thing about him, he usually isn't wrong.

"Thanks," she said. She went quiet for a moment. "Can I ask you something, France?" she asked with a sleepy voice.

"Hmm?"

"What is the deal with Chris Kim?"

I opened my eyes. "Why? Is he bothering you?" I pulled myself up from the bed.

She sighed loudly. "No the opposite. He's nice to me. Alex told me though he might not be that nice though. I need to know why from you."

Despite being close to Chris when we were younger, he was now just a distant person in my head.

"Alex is protective. He'll kick someone's ass if he thinks they are messing with any of us. I know because he's done it before," I said, pausing to think about Alex. "Chris use to hang out with me and Akito in elementary school and middle school with all of us."

"What happened?" she asked.

I thought back to years ago when we use to hang out with Chris. 

"He stopped hanging out with us the summer before high school. Then Chris started to hang out with Lennie and his people. Lennie...gives us a hard time, especially Archy."

"Why?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Jealously I suppose," I pondered. "But yeah. Alex cut Chris off when he started hanging out with Lennie. Because Chris hung out with Lennie, Alex thought he was not on our side and being a bad friend."

"Oh." She sounded like she was surprised. "Alex sounds like a caring friend."

"He can be a lot, but he usually cares. I know he still cares for Archy. Something else is going on with him. I haven't figured it out yet. How's Alex and Annabel?" I asked, thinking it could be them. 

"Still hooking up I guess. He apparently asked her not to say anything so I guess that just adds to everything." I heard her yawn and some rustling. "She said it started at the party and they meet up."

"And Asami?" I asked.

"She's doing better now. She doesn't talk about Devon. She seems more like herself, but she's not over it yet."

"And yourself?" I asked. "How are you feeling after everything with that guy from the party?"

She sighed.

"Not bad. Could be better. I miss how cheery I use to be. You seem more optimistic. I wish I was."

"You are..." Beautiful. Luckily, my mouth clamped shut before something stupid slipped out. "Fine. I wish I was more realistic. I think cheery makes you naive."

"Nothing wrong with that. The world weighs you down less," she commented quietly.

"If you ever want to talk about it...I'm here. You can always call me. I am here for you," I told her.

She didn't say anything for a moment. I heard some background noises before I heard heavy breathing. I sat on the phone for a minute, hearing the combination of the movie in the background and her heavy breathing. She sounded peaceful that it was a sound I didn't feel ready to end. 

I didn't know whether I should hang up and waste her phone battery, so I ended the call and shot her a final text. 

Good night Franny. Let's meet up before first period.