Harrison

Harrison is somewhat short for 10, but his growth chart is finally turning north. After starting medication for ADHD at age 7, his chart flatlined for a few years. He is slim, with branchy limbs; arms hanging below his hips, though he frequently has them lifted to belly-height, picking the skin around his fingers. He bounces on his toes when walking, skip-stepping when excited. His olive skin has a golden glow, inherited from his father, and his hair–a deep blonde with natural highlights–has a soft wave when cut short, and curls into ringlets when he lets it grow every few years. His build is like his dad’s too–naturally muscular and strong, with shoulders that are starting to broaden, especially after beginning Jiu-Jitsu. His face is all his mother’s with forest green eyes that have golden flecks around the pupil– “central heterochromia!” he proudly proclaims--that are hooded and framed in dark, long lashes that brush the lenses of his round glasses. He has a soft, broad, gently sloping nose and can fit a chapstick tube in each nostril, his favorite party trick. His lips are full, with a defined cupid’s bow–these lips have been passed down for five generations, originating with his great-great grandmother, Thelma. His cheeks have a hint of chubbiness left in them, a remnant of his toddler-self. In each, he has a dimple–the right one sinking deeper than its counterpart. He’s been slowly losing baby teeth, only having 8 adult teeth, of which one is only half-way erupted: the right lateral incisor. Above that partial gap sits a prominent freckle on his upper lip; his mom calls it his ‘beauty mark’. 

Called “Harry” the first 9 years of his life, he now demands to be called his full name and has developed his own style, proclaiming at the end of Summer break that he was going to “wear all black this year.” He’s stuck to that, sometimes incorporating a pair of khaki shorts at his dad’s insistence. He always wears vans tennis shoes, with the laces pulled so tight that his mom has to remind him to double knot them to make sure he doesn’t trip, often pairing them with tall socks. Having seen Metallica in concert a few months ago, the oversized tour t-shirt is his favorite thing to wear. His ears were pierced at a tattoo shop exactly four weeks and three days ago–he knows because he is counting down the days until he can change out the silver studs for spiked rings. He’s rarely without his cassette player, blasting ACDC at high volume, and his nails are often painted black or blue, a hobby that has prompted teasing from classmates. In fifth grade at a rural North Carolina school, Harrison excels academically, especially in math, during which he is sometimes pulled out for AIG enhancements. He misses the time with his math teacher, Mrs. Sexton, who he also had in third grade–the year he made his first 5 on an EOG. He was the only one in his class to score 100 on the first math test of the year, earning free time while others did corrections, prompting eye rolls from many classmates. His teachers call him “the sweetest boy” who “barely says a word”. Harrison only has “two true friends”: Tucker, whom he’s known since Kindergarten, and Bryson, a more recent companion. Despite his self-proclaimed lack of popularity, he holds a leadership position at school, helping younger students in the cafeteria line each morning, something he truly loves. He’s been a sensitive kid his whole life, empathetic to the point of misery. He spends many evenings sitting on his parents’ bed, talking through complex situations and feelings, tears and snot streaming. Once, after learning about September 11, he spent weeks grieving the event, despite being twenty-some years removed from it.

Harrison hopes to be an engineer or film director, with plans to make YouTube content on the side. Inspired by his Poppy, he wants to attend UNC Chapel Hill, though he’d settle for Wake Forest. He is a talented stage actor, recently performing lead roles in The Music Man, Frozen and The Wizard of Oz. His depiction of Winthrop Paroo stole the show, at least in his mom’s opinion. In his free time, he frequently plays Minecraft with his little brother, Ben, who is both Harrion’s favorite and least-favorite person. They will laugh at one another until there are tears streaming down both of their dimpled cheeks, and then, suddenly, Ben’s mere existence will annoy Harrison, prompting a huffy response: “god, Ben, just give me space.” These moments of frustration happen more frequently as he ages, a sign of impending puberty. He will often read a graphic novel in his room or perched on a tree branch when he needs distance. Harrison’s Pokemon card collection is worth several thousand dollars and he takes immaculate care of each card, ensuring they are carefully encased in plastic protective sleeves. His room is filled with Lego builds, anime figurines, and approximately 843 stuffed animals, his favorite being an ancient Build-A-Bear named ‘Teddy’. Harrison’s only admitted fear is pickles, and he gags and backs away from the line of jars when passing them in Food Lion. He is actually afraid of disappointing his mom and dad, not yet realizing he never really could do such a thing. Despite being quiet at school, he is loud at home, talking over his brother any time a thought pops into his head, only to yell at Ben for doing the same. He can be heard across the house making strange screeching noises or yelling “bro” at the TV. Running outside with his puppy, Yuki, is how he ends most days.