You continue to hate Dave Strider for the remainder of the year. The boys in the class glom onto Dave, follow him everywhere, in awe of his stories of not having parents, just a 'cool as shit bro' who lets him do whatever he wants and lets him eat Doritos for dinner.
You, on the other hand spend much of the year by yourself. The boys won't let you play with them because you're a girl and you don't want to play with the girls much since all they ever do during free time is play with Barbies and fake makeup. There is one girl with a funny name who loves cats that likes to play with you, but she's a bit too energetic for you most of the time, even if you are grateful at least someone likes to be with you. Most of the time you end up following your teacher everywhere. You're painfully aware how clingy it makes you look, but the boys tend to pick on you if you go off to play by yourself, and even if you don't you get lonely, makes you want your dad to come and bring you home.
Dave continues to pester you all year. He doesn't actively make fun of you like the other boys, but he follows you around whenever he isn't surrounded by his flock of stupid boys and won't stop asking you stupid questions and pushing your buttons. You always end up screaming at him which always just gets you in trouble. You've had to bring home a bad behavior slip for your dad to sign twice already. Your temper is something you've never had a firm grasp on keeping in check.
On the last day of Kindergarten, the teacher asked you all to come dressed up so she can take a picture of you to remember everyone. Your dad has you dress in a warm yellow dress, a white bow around your waist, and a yellow flower in your hair.
You and your classmates line up outside in two rows, the front row sitting down in a patch of dandelions. The girls all wear dresses and skirts like yours, the boys wear colored button up shirts and slacks. Except Dave. Dave showed up in ripped jeans and a t-shirt with a bowtie on it. He claimed that's all he had. You suspect he's lying.
You walk home that day with your older brother Kankri. He insists on holding your hand on the way back, like you're a fragile little flower and he's not just coming back from his last day of fourth grade. You make sure to 'accidentally' step on the back of his shoes on the way.
The summer is a relief, back to the way it was before you started school. Your dad works a lot more lately, he leaves early and comes home late, after suppertime, and usually goes straight to bed. You miss him. He recently decided Kankri is old enough to start babysitting you himself. You hate Kankri when he babysits you. He acts like a king, lectures you on everything possible. Secretly, you think Kankri isn't ready to be home alone, much less take care of you. You catch him crying in his room one night after making you toast. You ask him what's wrong, he says he's scared, he can't do this, he wants help, but he knows he can't have any. When you ask him why, he puts his head in his arms, says something about dad not having enough money, how he needs Kankri to help him more than he's ready for.
You crawl into bed with him, tuck yourself up against his side. You spend the rest of the night watching his boring movies with him.
When fall rolls around, as much as you don't want to go back to school, you're glad. It means Kankri won't have so much pressure to take care of you anymore, means your dad won't feel so guilty leaving the two of you home all day.
On the first day of class, you're disappointed to see that Nepeta, the girl who likes cats, isn't in the same class as you. Dave on the other hand of course is. He gives you a smirk, a little way. You scowl at him.
The first few weeks of school pass slowly. Loneliness has you hunched in your chair, shoulders up to your ears, long hair draped over your face. Some of the girls try to make friends with you but your hot temper and rough edges scare them off. The boys who remember you from last year pick at you when the teacher isn't looking, the ones who don't ignore you altogether.
All but stupid Dave Strider. He's still got his hoard of jerks that follow him everywhere, though this year it seems as though he's trying to shake them off his trail. During recess, he follows you to your hiding places under the slides, behind the large crabapple tree, beneath the lilac bush. He teases you, you shout at him. It takes a few days, but you start to notice his pokes at you aren't as malicious as the other boys', that he backs off the second he realizes he actually hurt your feelings. You can't stand him, but secretly you like his constant presence. It keeps you from being all alone again.
One day Dave brings two big sticks with him when he meets you behind your tree. He hands you one, expression blank. You take it and give him a questioning look.
"Let's have a sword fight," he says, a little, unsure smile on his lips.
You tilt your head, hold the stick awkwardly out in front of you. "I…don't know how."
"It's easy," he assures, holds his own stick out in front of him. He raises it slowly towards you. "Ain't you ever seen a swordfight before?"
"On t.v. …" you mumble, your stick drooping in your hands.
"Then you should kinda know what to do," he says simply, brings his stick quickly down towards you. Startled, you bring yours up to block. You manage to get your stick up fast enough so his stick doesn't whack you in the shoulder, but not fast enough to avoid jarring your wrist. "See!" he says excitedly, "Like that!"
"That hurt," you snap, rubbing your hurt wrist with your free hand.
"Don't be a sissy," he says, bringing his stick back up for another strike. This time you block without hurting yourself. Your temper flashes and you wildly swing your stick at him, hard as you can.
"I'm not a sissy!" you yell, missing him completely with your crazy aim.
Dave flinches in surprise as the stick swings past his shoulder before cracking into a huge grin. "Bring it on!"
By the end of recess your panting and frustrated. Dave has obviously done this before, not like you. You suck at this. But… regardless of your frustration, you find yourself genuinely enjoying yourself. That stick in your hand, the sweat on your face, it makes you feel strong, like a soldier, like your dad, like Dave.
When you ask, embarrassed, if Dave will fight with you again tomorrow, he smiles.
It happens one day when you get surrounded by a group of boys.
It's after school, you're waiting for Kankri to come pick you up from class, but you have to wait for him to walk from the other side of the school.
"Hey, Karkat!"
You look up from where you're sitting by the front door of the school. Your stomach twists as you look around for the source of your name. You didn't like the taunt in the way it was said. Your stomach ties into a tighter knot when you see the group of boys coming your way.
"What?" you ask, raise your chin as they reach you.
"We seen you hanging around Dave a lot," one of the boys, with ginger hair and freckles says.
"No," you say, glaring at him. "Dave is just stupid 'n never leaves me alone."
"Not what we seen," says another boy with a frizzy, start of an afro growing on his head. "We seen you fightin' swords with him."
"Yeah," says the first boy, along with another behind him. "Why you trying to act like a boy?"
You tuck your chin back down to your neck, letting your hair fall protectively over your face. "Just go away," you mumble.
"My dad says," the first boy goes on, stepping closer to you. You shrink against the wall. "that girls ain't 'sposed to fight."
"Yeah," says a third boy, "some o' the other girls play with frogs 'n stuff but at least none of them try to be a boy."
"Go play with Barbies or something," the first boy concludes. Your stomach boils.
"Stop treating me like a girl!" you shout at them, eyes squeezed shut.
"But you are a girl," the boy with the afro laughs. He reaches forward and grabs some of your hair. "See? Only girls got long hair."
"Ow! Let go of me!" You try to pull away, but it only makes the boy's grip on your hair yank harder against your scalp.
"Hey! Leave her alone!"
You open your eyes to see Dave running up to the group of boys, shove the one who has a hold on your hair. You wince as a couple strands of your hair gets yanked out when the boy stumbles back.
There's a fight. You cry. Dave gets sent to the office to wait for his brother to talk to the principle. Kankri looks like he wants to cry as much as you are when he finds you curled up by the wall, your hands covering your ears, shouting at the teacher who's trying to get you to calm down.
That night, before your dad gets home, you lock yourself in the bathroom with a pair of scissors.
You glare at your reflection in the mirror, eyes still swollen and red against your dark irises. You use your left hand to pull up a large lock of hair, and raise the scissors with your right.
You close your eyes as the first clump of hair falls to the floor.