Hello, hello! This is my first fanfiction ever for this series and pairing — and my first yaoi fanfiction. So I am, like, mega nervous about it. Especially since I'm introducing my own version of Eddward in this. It's also my first fanfic in a long time (literally years) so yeah, a lot of pressure on this baby, but I do hope that you guys end up liking it. Welp — *inhale* — here we go!

Extended Summary: He had never quite felt more frustrated. All that he wanted was to feel safe and validated — to stop hurting. He had never quite felt more frustrated. He wished that he would just understand and see for himself that not everything leads to a painful outcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own the original Ed, Edd n' Eddy characters. I only own my interpretation and usage of this plot, and whatever miscellaneous characters I may add. This story will also include scenes not suitable for children or bigots. You have been fairly warned.

Please enjoy!


It's Complicated

1/46


His mornings were simple.

He would wake up promptly at 5:59am, just a minute before his alarm would go off. When the ding-a-ling-ling of his cell-phone began but a minute later when he was finished rubbing some signs of sleep from his eyes, he dismissed the sound almost immediately. He thought for a second as to why he even had alarms, as his body had already been conditioned to wake up without it — but the extra security never hurt, he told himself. With a quick check at today's weather presented on his lock-screen, he finally stood from his bed.

He stretched. He awoke his drowsy, sleep-hazed muscles with his every move; bending back enough to create a bridge with his body, even, and holding that position for a few moments before dropping down fully onto the ground. Then he stood up, touched his toes, and did some T-stretches with his arms while rotating his waist.

Morning warm-ups done, promptly at 6:20am, he headed into his bathroom for a few moments to brush his teeth. He did not worry about bathing at that moment, having bathed late last night. It was in his bathroom that he then removed his matching silk top and bottom that formed his sleep-ware, put them in the clothing hamper, and replaced them with his morning "uniform" — dark gray jersey shorts and a white tank — before he headed back into his bedroom. His hair, long and black which he usually tied into a low ponytail when he slept, was briefly taken out of the tie only to be redone into a loose bun of sorts; just enough to get it all under his black beanie comfortably. He then put on a fresh pair of socks, slipped his socked feet into his most-used slippers, and then grabbed his phone and pulled his earbuds from inside his drawer, and connected them. At the same time from the drawer he pulled out his fitbit fitness tracker and strapped the digital device to his wrist, turning it on.

He headed downstairs. It was dark, not a single light on and none of the curtains were pulled back enough to let in the sunlight. He didn't mind, though. He moved easily in the darkness of his house; he knew exactly how many paces it took him to get everything he needed. He could fully navigate his two-story home in the dark if he wanted, which he often did when he came home late.

At his front door, he swapped his slippers for his striped, fairly-worn running shoes. His earbuds were already in, and his running track playing. He grabbed his keys, exited his home, locked the door, and broke out into a jog.

He always started off his jogs light. Just enough to warm up his muscles even though he had just stretched. As he rounded the cul-de-sac and was headed onto a new street, he began to speed up. His running track was perfectly timed to put on more fast-paced music by the time he felt his muscles warmed.

As he increased his pace, his long legs moving faster, he made sure to adjust his breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He kept internal count. He would glance at the tracker every now and then, watching the number rise — making sure it was not too high or too low.

When he neared the park he slowly increased his speed. It was not long before he reached the off-sidewalk path that led into a set of woods nearby. That was where his speed was its maximum; so much so that he tended to forget to breathe just before he reached the path, in anticipation of it.

The wood and rocky dirt path were the most challenging to run. The obstacles alone made it a hardly traversed path, but it was his favorite. It seemed like every time he ran it, something had changed, making it unpredictable and challenging — the type of stimulation that he enjoyed, both mental and physical as he had to stay alert of whatever may arise in front of him while trusting his feet to navigate what was below him.

The path led to a set of hills that were tough to run up; especially in the morning when the dew made the grass slippery. He pushed through, though, and enjoyed the small burst in speed as he went down; making sure to not get over zealous and send himself rolling down the hill, like he had done a few times in the past.

He eventually approached the creek. He could see it from the distance and sped up. The river was a few meters wide, and about 3-meters deep. Despite a bridge having been built there for easy crossing after an incident occurred a few years back, he always attempted to jump it; always learning from his mistakes and creating new calculations to make it work. He always thought, If I adjust the speed like so, or If I angled my body similarly to— in an attempt to make the necessary changes to jump the river.

When his foot reached the farthest edge of the river's bank, he jumped.

One foot, his right foot, which was positioned forward, reached the opposite bank, and he immediately tried to use the ground as leverage to help him move his body forward and clear the river— except, he ended up slipping at the last second and began to fall into the river. He grabbed at the ground with his trimmed and polished fingernails, and used his upper body strength to pull himself up and out of the awkward position that almost had him in a full split.

He sighed deeply.

His left leg was fully wet, some of his butt and shorts, too. Yet he was used to it by now; as every other time that he attempted the jump, he failed then, too. He took pride, though, in how little of him had gotten wet — and with his latest failure sorted in his mind as a reference — a new variable to be changed — he continued on the beaten path like nothing had happened.

.

.

His running came to a stop sometime later — around 7:10am, the time on his cellphone told him. He stopped only because he had reached his destination: the house of his friend, Marie Kanker.

When he rang the doorbell, though, it was not Marie who opened the door, but Lee. Her long, overgrown curly red hair covered her eyes, as always, and a toothbrush was in her mouth. For a moment he felt the need to be bashful when he noticed that all she wore were her polka-dotted panties and a thin tank over her noticeable black bra, but, having succumbed to this many times before, he felt himself immune to — expecting, even — the situation.

"Salutations, Lee." He said; his voice sturdy and deep.

"Marie!" Lee immediately called out in the same shrill voice as always. "Ya boyfriend's here!" He sighed hearing her call him Marie's partner; but she had already walked off (most likely headed back to the bathroom to finish brushing) and in her place was not Marie, but May.

"Hey Edd!" May, unlike her sister Lee, tended to be cheerier in the mornings — and fully dressed in her white midriff and blue jeans. Although she had typically been seen as the less intelligent of the three sisters, she proved herself in being a knack at cooking and cleaning and doing almost all the chores of the house, which she was meticulous at, and he happily submitted himself to when she asked, "I made breakfast — wanna come in and have a bite?"

"I would be my pleasure, Lady May." He said, earning one of her infamous giggles. Stepping into the trailer, he made sure to wipe his feet on the welcome mat outside so as not to get any mess on the floors that he was certain May slaved over to clean. He even left his shoes at the door.

"You know, I always like it when you call me that." May said as she put herself back in front of the stove. He smelled her signature May's Monday Morning buttermilk pancakes. "It's the guaranteed cure to the Monday morning blues!" She marketed them to her friends and family as. Which, to an extent, they were — often times he found himself more eager to eat those pancakes than to see Marie. Continuing, though, she said, "It makes me feel like a princess."

"Thou art far more beautiful than any woman of high blood Ic's eyes have beheld in all of eternity, Lady May." He stated as he sat down at the circular table in the kitchen. It was already laid out with mats and cups and plates and truly, ever truly, all that was missing were the pancakes.

May giggled happily at his words.

Waiting in the kitchen, he watched May work. She was attentive to the heat and had three burners going, all with different types of pancakes. Blueberry for Marie, raspberry for Lee, and banana for her; she knew that he never preferred one type over another, and so always just provided him a three-stack of one each. Despite this, her attention was pinpoint on ensuring that nothing burned — which it never did; including her long blonde hair, which almost went down to her knees and she currently had tied back into a high tail.

She flipped the cakes onto a separate holding plate and then distributed them on the main plates at the table.

He graciously accepted his three different pancakes and began to slather them in syrup — it was as he was doing this that Marie finally showed up. "Pancakes and Edd — yes!" She exclaimed as she skated over to the table on her rollerblades and plopped down in the seat with the plate of blue pancakes. She grabbed the syrup from his hands and nearly drowned her stack in them.

"Marie! Save some for me and Lee!" Cried May as she turned off all the burners of the stove and went to grab the bottle from her sister's hands.

"It's fine, it's fine!" Marie waved with a heavily bracelet-decorated hand. "There's more in the fridge, isn't there?"

"That's… not the point!" May said.

"So anyways, good morning Edd." Marie said after a mouthful of pancakes as she turned her head to him. "You look gorgeous as always — just finished your run?" She asked him.

"Affirmative."

"Attempted the jump?"

"Affirmative."

"Failed?"

"…On the affirmative, again."

She laughed.

"I don't know why you're obsessed with that jump, Edd." She said to him.

"What jump?" May asked as she finished cleaning off the stove.

"The one near the river. You know, where that little girl almost drowned."

"Ooooooh, right, right." May said; she took off the pretty and frilly apron she always wore over her clothes when she cooked, and finally went to take her seat at the table before beginning to add a (reasonable) amount of syrup to her pancakes. "That river's pretty big — can someone really jump that?"

"Edd almost has." Marie stated. "Which of course isn't good enough." She teased. He was about to say something when she added, "He's gotten better at it, but it doesn't seem like he'll be able to do it anytime soon."

"Allow me to kindly disprove your argument, dearest Marie." He stated, a small smile on his lips. "I believe that by the end of this month I will have jumped that river. It is a matter of statistics. The right day at the right time with the right calculations can guarantee that I jump it — and I have already had so many trials."

"And that day's coming when, exactly?" She asked as she waved her fork around at him; a piece of pancake attached.

"Soon."

"Right."

Lee joined the table near the end of their meal. Out of all of them, Lee was the one who took the most amount of time in her appearance. She wore lipstick and probably concealer, although it was so masterfully blended into her skin tone that it was always hard to tell; and while he could never see her eyes, he was certain that they were done-up as well and looked spectacular. She always went out wearing appealing perfumes, and dressed in flouncy skirts and high heels and seemed to have a purse to go with every outfit; and always seemed to be the most visually and olfactory stimulating of the three, despite all of the sisters being attractive in their own right.

She chugged the pancakes down like they were nothing; eating them in less than half the time the rest of them did, and without a single drop of syrup.

May was still in the middle of cleaning the dishes when Lee added her plate.

"Like a garbage disposal…" Marie said to him under her breath after Lee left the room for a moment. While he found the comment witty (and very true to the sense of what just happened), he did not laugh, but he did smirk. "Anyways, Edd," Marie said as she crossed her legs; on them wore multicolored Band-Aids from various falls and scrapes, visible due to the thigh-length black shorts that she wore. There were matching Band-Aids on her arms. "Are you coming to my derby tonight?" She asked him, her chin resting in her hands and batting her eyelashes at him.

"I will have to check my schedule."

She scoffed.

"Come on Edd — I know you know your color-coated schedule like the back of your hand." She said to him. "Can you come or not?" She asked in a more serious tone.

He did not respond. Rather, he kissed her forehead — a promise.

"We will see."

She snorted.

"Dork."

.

.

He left the Kanker household fifteen minutes before it was 8am. The girls piled into Lee's restored pink T-bird; backpacks in the trunk among other things there, Lee driving, Marie in the passenger's seat, and May sitting on top of Marie's lap. (She used to sit between the two, on top of the car, but stopped after Lee got a pricey ticket for it.)

"When are you getting to school?" Marie asked him.

"I do not have to be in class until a quarter after ten — although I will arrive earlier to use the chemistry lab. I may see you then."

"Lucky." Marie said. "I'll see you then, then, no?"

"Perhaps." He remarked; she rolled her eyes at him. Yet, because she always did it, and had grown into a habit — a daily ritual, even — of theirs, he gave her a quick kiss goodbye on her lips.

Lee took off.

Thus he jogged back to his home. He opened the door, took off his shoes and switched to his slippers, and headed up the stairs and straight into the bathroom — where his towels and other toiletries were already kept.

He stripped and put his sweaty workout clothes in the hamper. He took off his beanie, and then untied his hair from the bun and let it flow down to just above his waist, where it ended.

Running his hands through it, he could feel the slight build-up of dirt and grime ingrained into his scalp, and was glad that he had about an hour to get ready so that he could properly dry his hair instead of letting it sit nearly wet under his beanie all day and hoping it would dry somewhat.

Getting into his shower, he turned on the water and dispensed himself a healthy dose of body-wash on his loofah (he abhorred soap), and scrubbed away; getting his back and under his feet and paying meticulous attention to his elbows — in a few weeks the winter air would hit and he would be more prone to alligator elbow, of which he would simply not let happen. Finally, when his body was rinsed down, he grabbed his daily-use shampoo and squeezed the bottle from the top of his head down to the tips of his long hair, and then from there, up, he began to scrub. The shampoo was sulfate-free, meaning it did not exactly create bubbles, but the natural oils in it (he was key on ingredients) helped his hair more and he did not quite care for the bubbles, anyhow. They were obtrusive.

Obviously it took a tad more shampoo to fully wash his hair and make him feel clean, but in the end, he felt refreshed with it all and stopped the water. It was easy to step onto the bathroom mat and reach for his towel, which faithfully hung on a rack to the side. He dried himself as much as he could in the bathroom with his body towel, and used a smaller one, for his hair, to initially pat dry and then wrap it up, and keep it in place inside the towel for the next few minutes while he put on clothes.

Brushing his teeth took but five minutes, as he was meticulous about dental hygiene. He brushed, rinsed, rinsed with mouthwash, and then flossed and did a final rinse. He grinned, inspecting his work; he was happy to have gotten his braces off last year, as that made it much, much easier to clean every little groove in his mouth.

As he always kept his body towel in the bathroom, he walked to his bedroom, which was next door to the bathroom, naked in but the towel his hair was wrapped up in, and his fuzzy slippers.

He reached his room and went in, and immediately dressed himself; silk boxers since that was easier to move in and he found more resistant to moisture and odor, a white tank for an undershirt, black, non-form-fitting jeans on top, a checkered blue shirt, and a black-strapped watch that he got as a birthday present from his parents some time back. Of course, he had made sure to put on plenty of lotion before his clothes. Then finally, it came down to doing his hair.

It was around 9am when he started on his hair. He removed the towel gently and shook out his hair, which was now slightly wavy from being dryer. He hung the towel for a moment on a separate hook in his room, and then went through his hair with his fingers; gently detangling it. He used to use combs and brushes for it when his hair was shorter, believing that to be the only way, but combs and brushes pulled out hair and his fingers were more flexible and could easily adjust to knots and other forms of friction.

When that was done, he got his blow-dryer, plugged it in, and set it to cool (because heat damaged hair) and bent over as he moved the dryer from the top of his head, down to the tips of his hair. He dried as much as he could; enough to feel safe about tying it up and letting it sit in his beanie — which was exactly what he did after he put his blow-dryer away.

As a final touch, he grabbed his trusty tube of Chapstick with marketed 8-hours of hydration, and made sure his lips were nice and covered. He also popped in a mint or two.

At 9:16am, he was fully prepared for school, and headed out of the house. He grabbed his usual (cell-phone, earbuds, and keys), and switched to a different set of sneakers downstairs; he brought the sneakers down from his room after putting on his socks, but did not put them on until he reached the tiled floor at the end of all the carpet in his home. After the sneakers were on, he left his house, locking the door behind him.

For a gift, some time ago, his parents had bought him a car; saying that it was a reward for keeping his GPA above the standard 4.0 (it tended to fluctuate between 4.3 and 4.2, but over all, it never sunk down to 4.1 or 4.0, which was what mattered most to his parents). They had wired some money directly to his bank account and told him to get himself a car (with certain specifications, of course) and he did as such; an eco-friendly, "safe" car just like they wanted sat in his garage driveway — a bright silver in color with white leather seats in order to attract as little sunshine as possible.

Unlocking it, he sat down and put on his seatbelt, and then hit the push-to-start button. With the car on, so did his favorite radio podcast boom from the speakers, and he was well on his way to class.

.

.

Walking into the school, the hallway was empty. As expected, however, since it was the end of second period / start of third when he got there at 9:30am. He took his time walking to his locker, and from within retrieved one of the three things in there — his backpack. It was a habit of his to finish all of his homework before he left the school, and since he owned PDF versions of all the textbooks he physically had for the in-person classes, there was no need to take his backpack with him home, at all. Yet at school he walked around with his backpack and took with him the textbook needed for the class he would be attending; but both of his textbook-needing classes were after lunch, which would not be for a while.

He made his way to the chemistry lab, then. It was empty but the door unlocked, and he went in and turned on the lights. He then sat at his favorite spot; near the window that never fully closed and would allow him to lift open more, near the back of the classroom, a small distance away from the wall of cabinets where all the chemistry materials were held.

He sat and took out a notebook from his backpack, and flipped to the latest page. On it was his latest, balanced chemical reaction. He was aiming to create a spectacular effect — a pet project of his for a few weeks now, that struck him in the dead of night (when "genius" tended to happen) and he immediately got down to writing the basics of.

For the past few weeks he had found that the reaction in his dream which he got from mixing the chemicals together, was not so easily done in his real life — but he was determined to make it happen.

He spent the remainder of third period re-measuring ingredients and re-testing. Failures, all of them, just like the jump over the river had been that morning.

He gave a deep sigh at the sound of the bell signaling fourth period — it came after he finished cleaning up his usual mess and was scrubbing his workstation down with disinfectant. He would have another go at it later on. He exited the lab and made his way to his AP World History class. Despite the fact that he already knew the material for the day, he simply could not be late. He's had perfect attendance for quite a while and the only reason he did not show up until the time he did was because it was not requested of him, nor would it reflect badly on his attendance. There was no point to being there promptly at 8am — not for him, with his official class schedule.

In his history class, he took his usual seat next to Lee. Lee had proven herself to be quite academically gifted some time back, and placed high enough in exams to be put into some AP classes for certain subjects. While she was not the only person that he personally knew that was in the class (Nazz and Johnny, and some folks from the academic clubs that he had joined in past years, were there too), she was the one he enjoyed sitting next to, most; and even though she would not admit it, she enjoyed him most in the class since her other options were simply not the most desirable in her opinion — as she had said, they did not know how to have fun, while at least he would crack a smile at her jokes every now and then.

Plus, it helped that they already socialized on a friend-level nearly every day.

The teacher came in sometime later and began discussing issues of immigration for the topic that day. Mass immigrations have taken course throughout history in various regions of the world — it was nothing new, and the causes were always similar. There was something to learn from that, he supposed.

During class, though, since he already knew the material, he focused on Lee — specifically, her handwriting. Her big, calloused hands wrote the prettiest script that looked almost like an art form to him — it was calligraphy in his opinion, rather than the standard form of writing. He always enjoyed watching the loops, and in the back of his mind, continuously debated how such a girl like Lee could develop such beautiful handwriting. She did not seem like the type, especially during their childhood. Yet she, like him, had changed much over the years.

"My ass is killing me…" He heard her mumble under her breath, to no one in particular. "These seats are shit."

He held himself back from grinning; the contrast that Lee provided was always nice.

.

.

His next class was actually a gym period.

He, in all truthfulness, loathed gym. Not for the physical exertion, which he truly did manage to enjoy now that he was older and grown, and able to push himself to new limits. No. What he hated about gym was the filthiness of it all. He was not fond of reused materials unless they were properly recycled, and since he knew little of the personal hygiene of others, he was not too keen on touching anything that others may have touched or put their feet on, without some sort of barrier and insurance. Then, there was the sweat. He wished that gym was one of the classes he could have been exempted from; but the Board of Education required four years for graduation, no exceptions unless a physical restraint was the cause.

Yet as much as he loathed the gym floor and equipment, the locker room was his most hated spot. The bodies were suddenly closer and in a tighter-packed area — it was why he always rushed to get there quickly and change as fast as he possibly could, before the bodies came in waves.

He was changed into his gym uniform (with his beanie still on, of course) and out of the locker room in a matter of minutes. He then went to join the line of stretching students. It was the third week of classes, and today they were to do physical assessments for their first major grade. Quite frankly, he found it ridiculous that a class that should be pass or fail now had letter grades, and that a student could be deemed a "failure" if their personal physical performance did not reach the course standards. Health was a very personal matter, after all.

When the rest of the coed class was present, the assessments began.

He had no issue with the five minutes of jogging (it was like crawling to him), until he found himself getting competitive with the other members of the class that were at the front of the pack. He had never been much of a physically competitive person before, but in his latest years of life, he found he could not deny the thrill of going up against another physical person on a different platform — a different set of skills and muscles.

He had kept his pace relatively slow to what he usually preferred, but stepped it up when he found some members of his class to be pulling ahead of him; he was not secure in himself until he had passed them all and leading until the very end.

After jogging came pushups, of which he completed over 50; he could go longer, of course, but felt it not to overdo himself just yet. There was more. After pushups came burpees, which certainly got his blood pumping with a combination of upper and lower body resistance. Finally, to whine down, there was a stretching assessment; a ruler was attached to a cardboard box, and the box put against the wall, and the student rested one foot against the front of the box and got three tries with their hands put together, to reach as far as they could and hold the position for three seconds. He did well on that, as well, reaching just past twelve, quite comfortably, on both feet. It left him feeling confident.

They were dismissed and he hurried to claim his clothing from within his gym locker, and rushed into one of the only stalls in the room that were private. Besides being shy about his body in the presence of others, he did not enjoy seeing so much nakedness in one sitting — not to mention the topics of interest tended to be deplorable and nothing that he found stimulating.

"So I heard—"

He snorted at the unintelligent conversation; gossip was always a favorite pastime of the males in the locker room, and he quickly tuned it out as he focused on quickly washing his body down with some of his travelling body-wash — ever careful to not get anything above his neck wet and to use a smaller washcloth when it came to cleaning his face and the tighter spots — and then drying in a separate towel that he would later take to his car and spread out from within, to fully dry.

He dressed in his choice outfit for the day, and exited the stall. He put the items that were not wet like his towel into the locker, sealed it, and then headed out of the locker room.

He enjoyed breathing the fresh air when he went out to his car to set the towel; that room was always so stifling.

.

.

"Hey sock-head, wait up."

The next class he shared with his best friends Eddy and Ed. Rather than an AP class, it was an elective, and the "Eds", as many people had taken to calling them at one point, had all decided before entering high school that they would make sure to keep their electives the same. They all knew — well, at least he and Eddy knew — that with high school came some drifting, so small things like sharing electives and going to one of their houses over the weekend to binge watch something on Netflix, played a big role in keeping them together.

"Salutations, Eddy." He said to the shorter male. "Greetings to you as well, Ed." He said to the tallest of the three of them.

"Hi Double-D!" Ed said enthusiastically.

While there was no denying that he had not just physically grown out of his childhood phase, the old nicknames that were tossed around quite often in reference towards him had seemed to be lost with the times, too — yet Ed and Eddy still called him by those old nicknames. Coming from them, it felt like assurance of their lasting friendship; how even though they have all changed in some way, shape or form, they remained friends.

"How have you two been today, so far?" He asked as they came into step with him.

"Meh. The usual." Eddy said as he crossed his arms behind his head.

"So then is it is safe to assume that you have been called to the Main Office at least once? Did they find out that you were already making bases for report cards?"

"Ssshhhhhh sock-head!" Eddy said as he turned to glare at him, with a finger come up to his lips. "You ain't gotta say it so loudly — and no. Not that. Ed here brought a chicken to school again and dumped it on me while he went to get it food or whatever."

Ed agreed that that was what he did. "Eddy was real nice Double-D. He held onto Chikita for me and protected her from the principal." He said with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Eddy said, waving it off. "Next time just bring that thing food pellets or whatever, because I ain't running with a chicken under my shirt again."

"Eddy, chickens eat special chicken food. Not food pellets."

"Actually Ed, they do. Chickens tend to have a steady diet of hen pellets and water — among some other nutritional foods, of course. That is, when they are raised properly; nowadays most chickens are fed hormones to fatten them up. Typically, the hormones cause them to lay eggs in greater frequencies both time-wise and count-wise, and the larger chickens are then able to be sold for more money when it comes time to kill them—"

"Ah, Double-D! Don't talk about that!" Ed screamed as he placed his hands over his ears. Eddward let out a brief laugh.

"Sorry, Ed."

They reached their class. Eddward was the one to open the door for the three of them, and Eddy gave a nod of appreciation while Ed thanked him verbally. The Eds then took their seats at the front of the class; despite it usually being a habit of Eddy's to sit in the back where he could not be seen, for this particular class, he had chosen for them one of the tables in the front row for their self-assigned seats — specifically, in the very front-center of the room, for the clearest view of the board and teacher.

The Eds were very careful not to touch any of the equipment that was self-integrated into the tables. The saw, especially, had proven to be quite the piece of work that had almost chewed up the left hand of their teacher in the first week of class, last year, when they started the elective. Unbeknownst to them at the time, their teacher's hand was a specially-made prosthetic — lost to an accident many years ago. It had caused quite the fright, but with the mini-lesson, the teacher succeeded in teaching them the importance of safety around the equipment. (Albeit, also got across the point that he was maybe a few screws missing of a toolkit.)

Their backpacks were placed under their desks, in a hollowed-in spot specifically for backpacks and such. Ed took off the dark-green hoodie he was wearing and placed it around his waist. He, Eddward, took off his watch and placed it in his pocket. Eddy did not have any loose items or long-sleeved articles of clothing on him, so he sat in the middle of them waiting for the teacher.

Some five minutes later, the teacher finally arrived. Although, it was not their regular professor, with a comb-over and flannel shirt and work boots, but a substitute: a brown-haired woman dressed very similarly to their regular teacher, but with a tighter look than him, and her hair up in a tight bun. She had on special gloves and some makeup, and gave off an air that he felt was very similar to that of Lee: beautiful and strong.

"Good morning class." She said in a gentle voice. "My name is Alexis Makers — you can call me Miss Makers — and I will be your substitute for the next week for your woodshop teacher, Mr. Truman." She gave them all a smile. "I have your lesson plan for the week so let's already get started — go to the back and get your projects."

"I'll get it, I'll get it!" Ed exclaimed as he stood from his seat and went to get the three different projects for the three boys. Eddward wanted to help him, but before he could offer, Ed was already back to the table and distributing the projects.

A chicken coop for Ed, a catapult for Eddy, and a locker organizer for himself.

"Thank you, Ed." He said.

"Yeah, thanks." Eddy replied.

"You're welcome, guys."

When everyone in the class had gotten their projects, Miss Makers said, "Obviously I want you guys to continue working on them. This class is pretty self-sufficient after all. In that time, though, I will be coming around to see how you're doing. Looking around, a lot of these look good… but they can always be better. Attendance will be taken through that."

After she said that, the room was abuzz with movement and the noises that came with chopping, cutting, and nailing wood.

During this class time, the three Eds were on the same level of skill, pinpoint accuracy, and dedication; after so many years of building different contraptions for Eddy's schemes when they were younger, they all found that they had a knack for building things with their hands; and when the opportunity arose to choose an elective for their junior year, it was Eddy that suggested woodshop. Since then, the Eds have become fans of the classroom and would look forward to it each day — it was a piece of their childhood brought into their modernity, and elevated to more than just scams.

"I can't wait to finish this." Eddy said as he began sanding down the wood of his catapult. It was rather simple and worked as basically as it could, but it was still impressive craftsmanship. "When I'm done, I'm gonna hook it up to my room and use it to toss myself snacks when I'm on my bed." He said with a grin.

Eddward laughed. "There are quite the number of calculations that properly go into that, Eddy. I hope you can see that."

"Well duh — but it's not like physics is so hard egghead." Eddy had surprisingly become good in the sciences, too; specifically, physics, with his biology and chemistry understanding increasing just a bit thanks to their tutoring sessions from time-to-time. It certainly stemmed from all the building and calculating they had to do as children.

"I'm gonna use mine to give Chikita a home at school." Ed said.

"Good." Eddy replied. "I swear there's a feather in my underwear and I can't find it…"

"What are you gonna use yours for Double-D?" Ed asked him.

"I will put it into my locker. Despite only having my backpack and textbooks in there, it could still be neater. Right now I am just tossing my backpack in, after all — I cringe every time."

"I still don't know how after all these years you've stayed a neat-freak." Eddy commented. "At least you stopped labeling everything in your house, though. That was annoying."

He, Eddward, laughed at the reminder of one of his old habits. He remembered very fondly the day he woke-up, and found all the labels in his house to be a tad too much. Taking them down, and keeping his labels centered on only essentials that needed labeling, had seemed to make his house less like a hospital room, and more like a home. He would not deny that he had also considered changing up all the white carpeting and wall colors, but went against it, knowing very well that his parents would not enjoy that. After all, despite having lived in the house by himself for many years, it still belonged to his mother and father.

"And you got a nice car too, Double-D." Ed said as he began putting on a base coat of color on the small, one-chicken coop.

"To be quite honest, even I had found that… gift from my mother and father rather surprising." He admitted. "It seemed to come out of the blue — I was incredibly shocked when I spoke with them about it."

"Che." Eddy said. "My van's more kick-ass. At least it's got a waterbed in the back." Eddy had modeled his van after the one they found in the junkyard some years back; he drove himself and Ed to school in it almost every day. "You know, for the ladies." He said with a smirk and wiggle of his eyebrows.

"I am going to pretend I did not hear that." Miss Makers said as she went over to the table. Almost immediately Eddward could see Eddy become a tad flustered at his comment have been heard by her. Miss Makers, doing as she had said, took a glance at the work on the table, "Now, what are your names? I'm eager to know — these projects look superb."

"Eddward."

"Ed."

"Eddy."

"Eddward, Ed and Eddy… I am going to assume that is a coincidence more or less... Are the three of you brothers, though?"

"Friends since childhood." Eddward said.

"I see, I see. That certainly is interesting." She said with a laugh. "Now tell me about your projects. Eddward, you go first."

"It is a locker organizer." He said as he turned it around for her to better see. "The measurements leave about a half-inch of space on all sides in my locker. It has been measured for the top vertical compartments to hold my backpack in one, and whatever coat or jacket I may need to wear, in another. The bottom, which I am finishing up now, is a drawer for textbooks." He said as he pulled at the handle on the bottom and opened the small drawer. "It has also been measured."

"Very good. From the looks of it, you've taken meticulous care to make it as functional as possible." He smiled at her commentary. "I would say that as a future note, you should push yourself some more. This has very good smooth lines and the drawer rolls flawlessly." She stated as she pulled and pushed the drawer. "I think you can make some even more amazing things. Go big. If you're comfortable with that, that is."

He nodded. "Thank you."

"And now… Eddy, right?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Tell me about your project."

"It's a food catapult."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Hopefully not for mischief. You don't look like the type but… looks can be surprising."

The Eds held themselves back from bringing up the more mischievous side of Eddy. "Not at all. I'm gonna use it to feed myself from my bed — that way I don't have to walk to my room door when my mom brings me something." Miss Makers laughed at that.

"I see, I see. Well, it certainly looks good. Is it functional?"

"Not yet." Eddy said. "I haven't added the spring mechanism. I'm still trying to figure that out — but it does move." He showed how the "arm" of the catapult was able to move up and down like a seesaw.

"You just need the tension."

"Exactly."

"Hm… is there anything you can use for that, in here?" She placed one arm over her waist and rested the other on it, with her hand near her face and her finger tapping her cheek. She was glancing around the room as though looking for something he could use.

"Not at all. I checked." Eddy said. "But I was thinking to use some rubber bands and attach it to the top, and then have this hook thing that can somehow be removed from the back when I pull a string, and be reset, and that'll cause the catapult to launch."

"You'd need some pretty thick rubber bands and some more days of work, but… I think it can be done. Do that." She said.

Eddy nodded, and Miss Makers went to speak to Ed. In size, while she was able to look forward to make eye-contact with Eddward and a bit down to look at Eddy; for Ed, she had to raise her chin.

"Well hello there, big fella." She said.

"Hello." Ed said with his signature large smile.

"It's been a while since I've looked up at someone." She said, almost matching his smile.

"Ed's probably the tallest guy in the whole school." Eddy said. "But he's gentler than the smallest girl."

"I can see that. Your little house is spectacular down to the smallest detail. All the corners rounded — it looks like the inside has some texture to it which looks pretty necessary I'm gonna assume." She put her hand in to touch it; it wasn't rough, but grooved — sculpted, almost. "Very nice."

"It's for Chikita."

"Chikita?"

"His chicken." Eddy added.

"Ah! Okay. I see. Well from the looks of it, Chikita is going to be very happy inside here. It's all tight and sealed — very good. All that's left is color and you're already doing that. Honestly, there's not much else I can say. Good job — all three of you. Keep it up." She then gave them a thumbs-up and left the table.

Inside, the Eds felt proud.

.

.

The next period was lunch.

The table he sat at was located near the back of the cafeteria, close to the large windows that gave a good view of the school's athletics field; where some members of the various sports teams the school sponsored could be seen running and exercising and training. The patrons of the table were not only himself and his fellow "Eds", but also the Kanker sisters, and Jimmy and Sarah. Lunch was always catered by May.

"Hey guys!" She said. "I have your food." She pulled out one large plastic bag with three plastic containers inside. On top were written their individual names on tape, and she passed them out as such. Everyone else at the table had similar containers and were already munching away at May's cooking; there was variation in the meals when it came to small details and extras to the base sandwiches that May provided.

They each thanked her.

His base sandwich was healthier than Eddy and Ed's, who each had a good amount of meat and cheese stacked; his was just a simple bacon, egg and cheese with some leftover fries from Sunday (when he had gone to help the sisters with their homework) adorning them. The fries were dressed in cheddar cheese and bacon bits — not the healthiest meal, but it was certainly better tasting than the food the cafeteria regularly served. He could always burn off the calories, later.

"Ah, Edd!" May said over her salad. "I wanted to ask you if you could help me study in the library this afternoon. I have a big test tomorrow and I'm not… feeling too confident about it." She said with a blush. May was very conscious of how people viewed her intelligence; the blonde hair and buck-teeth (which she had grown into more since her childhood, but still tended to stand out when she smiled) did not help her in this field.

"Oh, oh! Me too!" Marie said. "I have the same test. Math II, right?"

May nodded.

"It would be my pleasure to help you both." He said smiling at them.

"Hey! Jimmy and I need help too!" Sarah piped in. The second redhead at the table had the same shrewd voice as her elder version, but sported a much different look with her straight hair pulled back by a headband and currently wearing her soccer uniform — her best friend wearing the school's male version for the cheerleading uniform. "N-not for Math II, but Trigonometry."

"Although that would have to come after our practices today." Jimmy said in his rather squeaky voice. "There's a game coming up and both practices end at 5 — are you still gonna be here, Edd?"

"The library runs independently from school hours, so it closes at around 9 — I can stay here until then if you want me to. I normally do."

"You can't!" Said Marie. "Edd, you promised me to come attend my roller derby competition tonight! It starts at 5."

"Oh. That is correct — I do remember now. Forgive me, Marie." He said to her, before turning his head to both Sarah and Jimmy. "Unfortunately, I will not be able to help the two of you study. You do have my best wishes at your exams tomorrow, however."

Sarah began to pout. Her eyes landed on Marie, who was happily munching away at a cookie that she stole from Lee's lunch. Lee had threatened to stab her with the fork if she dared touch the cookie, but Marie was quick to get the cookie and give her sister a kiss on the cheek to pacify her; Lee had been of course flustered and sputtered quite a few curses, but May calmed her down like she always did, and the sisters had been chatting by themselves until May had brought up the request to help her study.

Jimmy noticed Sarah's stare and put a hand on her shoulder. He smiled at her, perfectly showing off his white, retainer-less teeth as he did this. Eddward caught this as he bit into his sandwich.

He would not lie: a part of him was aware of Sarah's persistent crush on him. He had even tried to mediate it when he started to date Marie, to ensure that Sarah felt no hard feelings at the development. He did these things as her friend, not wanting her to know that his frequent study of others and their body language had led to his conclusion of her — when she wanted to tell him, she would tell him, and he would speak with her candidly, then.

Until that moment, he would do as much as he could to accommodate Sarah and her feelings into his life, such as, "If you are keen on still studying, Sarah, I can gladly offer my humble abode as a meeting place. Or would you prefer me to visit your home instead? I am certain your parents would be more comfortable with that."

"You would do that Double-D?" Sarah asked, surprised.

"Of course. I am capable of staying into the later hours of the night. Although, out of properness, I will leave at 10 — I can be there by 7. Do three hours seem of use to you?"

On her face, Sarah's lips pulled back into a grin. A Cheshire grin. She looked at Eddward with eyes sparkly and said, "Of course, Double-D," in a sweet, almost gloating voice. Eddward nodded at her answer, and turned back to his sandwich — he missed the grin exuding a sense of pride and accomplishment as Sarah's eyes landed on Marie.

.

.

When school was finally over, he made his way to May's locker. The young blonde came fresh from home-economics and was juggling a plate of cookies along with her books as she tried to get everything into her locker.

"Allow me to be of service to you, May." He said as he went and grabbed the books with a plate of cookies piled on top, from her hands.

"Oh thank you, Edd." May said when she was relieved of the load. "I was scared they were about to fall — I baked those for us to study to." She said with a smile.

"Unfortunately the library does not allow the usage of food or drink." He told her. "However, I am certain we can feast on them in secret, somehow." She grinned up at him and put the two unnecessary textbooks into her locker before going to reach for the remaining book and cookies from Eddward. Eddward used his height advantage over her to lift the items above his head, where May could not reach.

"Oh no, no. I would not be a proper gentleman if I allowed a princess to carry such a cumbersome load." He said, earning another one of her infamous giggles.

"Hey lovebirds, how's it going?" Marie said as she skated over to the couple. She had not taken the rollerblades off of her feet for the full day — a ritual of hers on the day leading up to a big roller derby game. "You guys ready for our threesome? Studying, that is."

Both Eddward and May blushed at Marie's comments, but nodded their heads. The trio then made their way over to the library, with a healthy dose of conversation floating between them. It was not long before they were out of the school and across the land it was on, at the school's library that functioned, too, as the town's public library. Going in, the receptionists took notice of Marie being on skates and seemed ready to confront her on it.

"I will ensure that she not scuff the floors." Eddward told them; and they seemed to take his word because it was him.

When they found a table, close to both the windows and the books, they settled, and a more serious air seemed to form around them.

"I can only be here for about an hour — Lee's driving me to my match, then." Marie said.

"Then we will cover the topics you are having trouble with, first, Marie. Is that alright with you, May?"

May consented, and that was what the group did.

When it came time for Marie to leave, she gave kisses to both her sister and her ex-boyfriend, and then skated away with three of the ten cookies May had made. Alone, the two studied with one another until a half-hour before Marie's match.

"We should get going." Eddward said as he looked at his watch. "That is, if you feel comfortable with what we have covered so far." He was eager to get to Marie's match, but at the same time, did not want to cut into his promise with May.

"I'm fine with it Edd." May said happily. "You've helped me out a lot — and a lot of the stuff Marie was having trouble with, I did, too. I'm sure to do well tomorrow."

"I am glad you feel that way."

They packed up their items and headed to their separate lockers, together, to put away their unnecessary items, and then to his car; with Lee having driven Marie, May was left without a ride to the match, but Eddward was more than happy to oblige. She sat beside him in the passenger's seat, and he drove them to the venue.

.

.

The roller derby match had been quite the spectacle. Between the two Kanker sisters who were loud and proud as they cheered on their final member, and watching Marie's aggressiveness as she skated with her teammates, the match — the night — was more than eventful. He was certain he would have some trouble hearing later on, though.

In the end, Marie's team had tied with the other — a date for a tie-breaker was set for that Saturday, and Marie approached them fuming and complaining about a black-haired girl who had kneed her from behind and caused her to hit her chin on the floor. She was almost pulling out the dyed blue hair of her fauxhawk. She made several death threats against the girl, and was only calmed down when May shoved one of the remaining cookies that she had, into her sister's mouth; with the promise of a special almost-victory cupcake when they got home — and a full cake if they overcome the tie on Saturday.

He parted with the sisters, then, giving Marie their hello-goodbye kiss, and then driving over to his house to park his car before heading to Sarah's house for their study session. It was 7pm when he got there — right on time.

Jimmy was the one to greet him at the door. He was told that they had already set up snacks and such in the living room for them to study; Sarah was sitting on the couch in her pajamas, with her red hair loose, when he entered, and got up to greet him and then take a seat beside him on the coffee table in the room. They were shoulder-to-shoulder nearly the whole time.

When he left the house at 10pm, Sarah gave him a tight "thank you" hug and Jimmy did the same, albeit softer. He left the duo around the time Sarah's mom came home, and greeted the elder woman on the way out. He had not seen Ed at the house during his visit.

Outside, it was incredibly dark and the only thing lighting his way were the streetlights. Yet he felt comfortable in the darkness, and a part of him wished that his solitary time in the dark would not come to an end — the silence, the stars, everything, everything, put him at ease as he was finally able to breathe for the first time that entire day.

The moment only came to an end at the sound of a motorcycle pulling into the cul-de-sac. He recognized it immediately and could not help but watch as it pulled into the driveway of one of the houses, and the owner hopped off. When he killed the engine and hopped off his bike, Kevin and he locked eyes.

Eddward raised a hand in acknowledgment of him, and Kevin gave a nod before heading into his house.

Eddward then headed into his own.


I know this chapter was an exposition on my Eddward and his life. Trust me, I know. I also know that while I wanted a 5k word limit for each chapter for this story, that this baby was only 500 or so words from 10k (minus the before-and-after author's notes). I heavily apologize for that. I will try to keep the word count down in future chapters.

As a side note: This entire fanfiction has been planned out from chapter-to-chapter. It will have 46 total chapters, and be updated Mondays and Fridays— a chapter each day. Also, currently 15 chapters of this are already fully written. (Yeah. Not kidding. I have really bad fanfiction habits from the past, and truly want to finish this one after updating on a consistent basis and then finish up all my unfinished works.) So... have no fear on updates and look forward to Friday for the second chapter!

Next Chapter: Kevin had a really small part in this chapter, don't you think?

~ Inkle