Author's Note: I'm not too sure about this story, but if you guys like it, review for more!

Edd's just been kicked out of private school, has started public school and wants to make friends. And what better way to make friends than to sell them prescription drugs for all their little quirks? He lives with his rich mother and sees a cross-dressing psychiatrist who prescribes him what he needs, even if he doesn't know it. And as if business wasn't dangerous enough, he's working with the school bully, Plank. Kevin is the principal's son and falls for Edd, but the principal is none too happy that his son is making cow eyes at another boy. Drinking himself into a stupor and getting Edd arrested is just the start! KevEdd. Some Nave here and there. Based on the movie Charlie Bartlett so it's a bit OOC. M for language, alcohol & drug use, attempted suicide, and yaoi. (Btw if you haven't seen Charlie Bartlett and would like to, I suggest you watch the movie first as to not risk spoilers and if you have seen it, don't kill me for basically copying it but I just had to I love this movie so much and my brain began thinking of Charlie as Edd!)

Chapter 1

What's more important than being well-liked? Well, to seventeen-year-old Eddward Vincent, nothing.

Edd was what some might call nerdy. He had curly black hair stuffed in a black and white beanie, blue eyes adorning a baby face, and a slim, weak frame. He wasn't all that weak, however. He could handle himself just fine. Being bullied really helps one build a tolerance for pain, after all.

Edd buttoned the jacket on his prep school uniform, lost in his thoughts as he looked about his room. His things were packed, and any minute now, his mom would arrive to take him away from yet another school.

He stood on his bed, arms spread, telling the world who he is. In his head, he's a well-known motivational speaker. Outside, he's kind of a loser who exists to help anyone who needs something from him. He liked to think his fantasies were a lot nicer than real life.

"My name is Eddward Vincent!" he said to no one in particular.

In his head, a crowd of thousands chanted his name. Really, it was just someone at the door trying to get his attention.

"Your mother's here," he said.

Miranda Vincent sat across from the principal, twiddling her thumbs anxiously. She knew exactly why she was here. She was no stranger to her son's hijinks, yet she always found herself nervous in this situation.

"I assume you can guess why you're hear Mrs. Vincent," the headmaster finally said.

The middle-aged woman smoothed back a strand of inky black hair from her eyes. "What has Edd done?"

"Perhaps this will tell you," the stout man said, tossing an item onto the table.

She picked it up. "A driver's license? I'm afraid I don't see the problem."

The headmaster quirked an eyebrow, reaching under his desk and picking up a box, emptying its contents onto the table. "Your son has been mass-producing these fake driver's licenses and selling them to the students."

Blue eyes squinting at the cards, she smirked. "They're pretty authentic, wouldn't you agree?"

The unamused look didn't leave his face, and Miranda ruled out humor as a way to disseminate the tension.

She cleared her throat. "So, what's the verdict?"

"I'm afraid I've no choice but to expel your son," he said.

Miranda sighed, and pulled out her checkbook. "Sir, I don't see how this is grounds for expulsion. You must understand my son seems to be going through a rough patch. It's a phase, I assure you. Now, how much will it take for you to decide to look the other way this once?"

"Mrs. Vincent, please leave my office."

Miranda and Eddward sat in the backseat of their limousine. Things were pretty tense, as they usually are when your son gets expelled. Believe it or not, this wouldn't be the first time they'd been in such a situation. Or a second. Not even a third. This happens to Eddward quite a lot with many private schools.

"Why?" Miranda asked.

Edd raised an eyebrow at her. "Pardon?"

"Why were you mass-producing fake licenses?" she elaborated.

"Everyone wanted to be my friend," Edd explained, a small smile on his face. "I was finally becoming popular."

She rested a hand on her forehead. "Honey, there's more to school than just being popular."

"Like?"

She shook her head. "You know what, I can't think of anything right now, but I'll get back to you later."

Edd chuckled. "So what now?"

"Now... We try public school."

"Okay, I suppose that's doable. I just have one request."

"Which is?"

"You let me take the bus to school."

"Why, dear?"

"I don't think anyone else is going to show up with a chauffeur."

"You're probably right. Just please, don't get into trouble. Mommy's tired of trying to bribe school officials."

"Yes Mother. No problem."

"At least you'll be able to live at home with me now. I even kept your room exactly the way you left it."

"Have you been feeding my insect collection, then?"

Miranda blinked. "Oh dear."

-
The pair sat at the piano, Miranda drinking a Martini and Edd playing Those Were The Days. He stopped and glanced at his mother.

"Did you take your medicine today, Mother?" Edd asked, teasingly playing the Jeopardy theme.

She chuckled. "No I haven't." She looked around. "They're probably in my purse...which is right..."

Edd grabbed it from beside the bench. "Here?"

"Yes, thank you, darling," she said, taking it and locating the bottle. "Where would I be without you?"

Edd started playing again, and sang, "And we knew who we were then..."

Miranda sang the next part, "Girls were girls and men were men."

"Mister we could use a man like Herbert Hoover again," the two sang in unison.

"Those were the days," Miranda sang as Edd finished with a rousing piano solo.

The two smiled at each other.

"It's wonderful to have you back, Eddward," she said.

"Thank you Mother," Edd said happily. "I missed you too."

Peter Barr was a pretty unhappy man. He didn't like his job, his son hated him, and he'd yet to find an alcohol potent enough to make him forget it.

Pulling his car into the garage, he had a look on his face that told you he'd had a bad day. Because he had. He entered the house, a grocery bag in hand, to be greeted by obnoxiously loud punk rock music coming from upstairs. Even with the floors and walls serperating them, he could feel the bass of the music shake the house.

"Are you kidding me?" he shouted. "Kevin Anderson Barr!"

He groaned. It was no use. His son was entirely in his own world. Hurrying up the stairs, he knocked on the bedroom door.

"Sup!" came a muffled response.

"Can I come in?" Peter asked.

"Yeah Dad whatever."

He stepped into the room, listening as Kevin looked up from his phone and turned the music off.

"Hold on, the principal is here," Kevin spoke into the phone, then turned to his dad. "What do you need, Pops?"

"Why do you call me the principal when you're talking to your friends?" Peter asked.

"Pretending to hate you makes me cool, duh. What do you want?"

"Oh, I don't know. A better job? To come home to peace and quiet as opposed to your onslaught of adult-hating music? For my son to welcome me home after a long day?"

"I love you dad," Kevin said sweetly, albeit with a bit of sarcasm. Peter would take what he could get.

"Brought the candy you wanted," Peter said, tossing him a box of Junior Mints.

"Oh hell yeah! Thanks Dad."

"You're welcome. I'll be in my office."

That was all he could manage before he came face-to-face with the door. He sighed, and headed toward the stairs.

Glasses perched upon his nose, he sat down at his desk in his office. It was just a spare room in the house that really had no other use, so why not work from there? He pressed the button on his answering machine, not really wanting to hear the world chew him out, but knowing he had to deal with it eventually.

The first, from Superintendent Phillip Haas, said, "Hello, Peter. About the announcement to install security cameras in the school? I feel I should be there when you announce it to the students. Y'know, so they take it seriously."

At that, Peter rolled his eyes and began to pour himself a drink.

The machine continued with a message from his ex-wife, Carol, who as usual, sounded as if she'd rather be doing anything else rather than talking to him. "Peter, it's me. I'm calling because I'm concerned about our son. He hasn't been returning my calls. Do you even care that our son has a poor relationship with his own mother, you insensitive son-of-a-"

A beep cut her off, but he knew full well what she'd said. He downed the entire glass, and went out onto the deck to fly his beloved R/C airplane.