Chapter 3

Misunderstanding


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Dustin wasn't the smartest guy on the planet.

It wasn't a fact he was very proud of, but you could only go on for so long pretending something wasn't true before everyone else decided that enough was enough and decided to remind you of it with all of their remaining time and energy. Except they didn't; because that would be mean, so they wouldn't come out and just say it, instead they would just…take advantage of it, therefore reminding him, and leave him as the odd man out and the butt of some joke he hadn't been smart enough to catch on to.

Dustin wasn't the smartest guy in the world, but he was smart enough to figure out that other people (with the exception of Kelly, but she didn't count because she was awesome so her exception-ness was inferred) were mean; or at least, something about Dustin made their mean come out, like he was some kind of unpleasant anger magnet thing. Because of this, he had made himself a few very simple rules.

Following these rules, so far, had led him to great happiness.

Rule number one, don't talk to other people.

Don't talk to other people ever…ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever.

Sometimes it was unavoidable; like, what if someone's arm just happened to catch on fire and they didn't notice? Then, and only then (and in then-like situations) was informing them of their to-be arm injury allowed because hey, that was just common courtesy. If someone's on was fire, you told them, end of story.

Adults also had to be talked to. In fact, anyone who seemed senior to you in any way should probably be responded to whenever they asked you a question/said hello (Dustin preferred the hellos; the response was easy and impersonal and very hard to get wrong).

It wasn't a rule Dustin particularly liked, but it was necessary, and as long as he didn't give too honest an answer (it was difficult sometimes because his mouth/brain filter thing didn't work all that well) he was usually okay.

When confused, it was best to give the shortest most concise answer you could think of. Heck, give whatever answer they wanted to hear, it didn't even matter if it was true or not. Whatever you needed to say to have them leave the conversation happy and forget about you, say it, and then everything would be good (and Dustin would be happy with the leaving-alone part, not the lying, the lying made him feel dirty on the inside, like a layer of evil gook was seeping all around his stomach and it just laid there plotting its evil plans).

The next rule was simple; keep to yourself.

This was a lot like rule number one, but enough time had passed for Dustin to decide it as a necessary, distinct difference.

See, rule number one implied you went about your normal activities but on like, mute. Rule number two encouraged you to cut down your activities to only the essentials like school (very much mandatory, though Dustin really, really hated it) and work (which included motocross because Dustin needed that like he needed breathing and without it he really would just be a hermit who hurled sticks at passing cars from his bedroom window). All other teenage-boy like activities were out. Not that the brunette really knew what those were, and any time he tried to Google it he found less-than-awesome results that made him scrub at his eyes and had him awkwardly avoiding his computer for days on end. Flirting with girls was a no-no because A) girls were mean, B) just thinking about talking to them made his head hurt and his stomach tie up in knots, and C) girls were mean, and Dustin had only dipped his toe into that pool of awfulness and he had learned his lesson, thank you very much (unlike his supposed old "friends", the girls hadn't been too "nice" to tell him he was oh-so, not-so, bright).

He ate lunches alone in deserted places (the cafeteria was loud anyway, and the smells usually made him nauseous) and Dustin made sure he was just good enough at all his classes that he wouldn't require tutoring. If talking to one person for three seconds was bad, talking with one girl (because they were always girls) for two hours, and paying her for it was infinity-times worse. He had also managed to get good enough at bike mechanics so that that was all he had to do in the shop.

His old friends haunted Storm Chargers sometimes; it was stupid to think it was just to bother him because they were active guys too. Still, every once and a while Dustin's smart streak would run out and he would look up and catch one of their eyes, and this weird, not-nice but he couldn't describe it look would be on their face and he would bury himself into his work again. The look always stuck with him though, hours after they were gone, strong enough to make him want to punch something out of frustration for not being smart enough to describe what it meant.

Kelly never mentioned his increased productivity on the days they visited, but he wasn't sure if she noticed or not.

He wasn't sure if he wanted her to.

This all led to rule number three, which was the most important rule of them all.

Don't think about it.

The "it" was general; "it" could be anything. Anything that really bothered him; his old friends, his mom and dad's divorce, a homework problem, a trick he couldn't master, anything that hacked at his insides even a little bit were never to be thought about.

Only superficial problems, the here-and-now issues, were allowed to be thought about.

Life got a lot easier after Dustin established that rule. He used to think about those things all the time, what he did wrong, what did he have to fix about himself to make it go away, but after awhile…after he didn't think about how many years of heartbreak and self-hate and inside badness and guilt weighing him down, he realized two things.

They were one; that there were some things he couldn't control, and two, obviously the things he could control, he wasn't smart enough to fix.

Dustin had actually made the third rule first, but the other two helped so much at…protecting him, he had to put them in the front of the line.. After all, he never had any worry about forgetting the third rule anyway, because it was part of him. It was like; in his body, like blood or something, like its own organ, trying to keep him from getting hurt or hurting other people (but he was honest enough to say that he put himself first, because it was more than obvious that other people weren't going to).

It was a lonely way to go about things, but it was way better than the alternative, and so far following his three rules had kept him relatively safe as he'd gone through life.

So breaking these rules, even a little bit, may or may not be the reason Dustin was currently freaking out in the back of Kelly's van.

He had no idea, no idea, why that pretty girl-lady (Teagan, right?) had spoken to him, or wanted to continue speaking with him. In all honesty he hadn't wanted to find out, but she was senior so he had to at least answer her questions and then tall-dark-and brooding had been all tall-dark-and brooding behind her staring Dustin down until he agreed to whatever torture she had planned for him.

The pizza was a trap, he knew it.

Normally pizza made him happy, because it was pizza, and it was impossible to not be in love with pizza because it was all saucy and cheesy and pepperoni-y, and if you got really lucky and got it from the right place at the right time in the right mood and the stars aligned themselves just right the pizza-makers would add like, spray on butter to the crust (which was terrible for you and he could just imagine his arteries going all kamikaze but he didn't care it was just that good) and then they would give you a garlic dipping sauce that was pretty much pure majesty in a tiny cup of awesome that was so wonderful it broke his heart every time the container got empty.

Pizza itself was awesome.

Pizza plus stranger lady who surely wanted to bring doom and unhappiness down on him, was not.

Even if she offered to treat.

The treat was a trap (Dustin was going to bring money anyway just in case she changed her mind or ran out on him or didn't show (he was hoping for that third one a lot)) and he was still running their conversation over and over in his head to see what he did wrong. He tried to end it as soon as he could, maybe he should have stayed and talked to her then or something, but then tall-dark-angry guy would have been there glaring at Dustin like the brunette was stealing his breathing air and trying to kill him with his mind.

…what if tall-dark would be at the pizza place too?

Dustin tried really hard to convince himself not to go; because it was breaking all of his rules (the whole afternoon become an "it" he shouldn't have to think about) and the rules were there for a reason, but he knew he couldn't be a rude jerkface like his old friends had been. He knew he couldn't stand pretty-lady up even if her intents were unknown and most likely harmful.

What if his old friends had like, paid her chat him up and then sneak attack him when he was least expecting it somehow, and then they would all pop up out of nowhere and laugh at him.

…okay, maybe Dustin was a little paranoid, his old friends didn't really go out of their way to bother him anymore, but they did rag on him when the opportunity arose.

Was this another one of those times?

Dustin ran a hand through his sweaty hair, using the other to steady his bike as Kelly drove over another bump in the road. It wasn't necessary, but he riffled through his bag on an impulse, whipping out his cell phone to check the time for what had to have been the twelfth time that car ride.

Forty minutes in-counting, on account that they had quit the track a little early (Kelly having insisted on it because he was so off his groove he might as well have been trying to knit and ride at the same time), which meant forty more minutes of completely freaking out.

Well, that wasn't fair; he would probably be freaking out once he got to Tito's too. So it was more like forty plus however long pretty-lady-decided-to-drag-their-meeting-on-for amount of freaking out he had left to do.

And then for good measure he would probably freak out once he got home.

Just to make sure he had all his bases covered.

Dustin took little steps, in his mind, trying to bring himself just a little bit of comfort. First they'd get back to Storm Chargers; then he'd stow away his bike and his gear and then he'd run home, shower, freak out, go to Tito's, freak out some more, pray Teagan didn't show up, freak out when she did show up, and after that the afternoon was pretty much a mystery.

…well, it was a good thing he had a well-balanced breakfast that morning.

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Tito's was just as hopping as it normally was when Dustin got there, a few minutes early despite his depressing attempts at stalling himself. He had spent at least five minutes chasing ducks around the pond and had even stopped to read every poster he saw along the way, whether he actually cared about there content or not. A chill ran through his body as he entered his usually-favorite, but now not-so-favorite place-of-pizza that had nothing to do with his damp hair. Timidly, he looked around the restaurant, praying for a miracle.

None came his way though as across the room; away from the hustle and bustle of waiters, food, teenagers, and witnesses, was Teagan, sitting happily at the back booth, away from prying eyes. She waved him over; having caught sight of him as soon as he entered. He hesitantly made his way toward her, ducking around seats and people quietly, making sure to keep his arms to himself.

Head down, he slid into the booth, meeting her eyes briefly before staring back down at the table top.

He had never noticed it before, but they were pretty nice tables. Like, not the cheap plastic-y kind you found in most places; this was hard core polished plastic, a nice step up, going for a medium level of fancy without being too hoity-toity for a pizza place.

A good choice.

Teagan made the first move, waiting until after they ordered drinks (but that only mildly trapped Dustin, it wasn't until it got to pizza time when it would be past the point of no return).

"Hi," she chirped, smiling brightly (he had looked up to be polite, but could only maintain eye contact for so long before he had to go back to studying the table).

This one he knew the response to.

"Hi," he mumbled in return, fidgeting with his sleeve nervously.

How long was it going to take for this to be over? The minutes were already dragging on way too long, and with all the easy conversation out of the way Dustin was left with nothing but uncertainty. He could feel Teagan's gaze boring into the top of his head, looking for what, he didn't know, and he twisted his fingers in the material, trying to stop his nervous twitching.

Across the table, Teagan chirped on. "Victor-" she began, pausing when Dustin threw her a confused look that made her realize he had no idea who she was talking about. She smiled at the eye contact but he quickly corrected himself, turning his eyes down.

She tried again. "The guy I was with earlier-" She must have meant tall, dark, and angry. "-said your name was Dustin."

He gave a jerked nod to let her know she was right – or that Victor the angry-beast was right - and shifted his hands into his lap. He didn't want her to see how badly he was wringing them, though he was surprised he hadn't heard any knuckles crack by now.

"So," she started again, still talking to the top of his head. "How'd you start riding?"

It was a long story, but she wasn't really interested in it, didn't sound like it, so he kept to his rules, keeping it short and sweet.

"Kelly," he mumbled, tapping his toes nervously against the checkered linoleum. "The lady I work for."

It was gamble, but he snuck a peak at Teagan after he answered to get a feel for what she really wanted. Her response was…huh; a smile, growing across her face, eyes lit up with legit happiness (the eyes were hard to fake, and he trusted his gut when it came to this kind of thing) before turning his attention to the waiter as he dropped off their sodas.

Oh...so, it was one of those meetings.

To be honest Dustin wasn't sure if he felt any better about the situation at all, for this, was a pity party. She had to be one of those popular do-gooders who just had to know everybody, and when they found someone who didn't fit their take on the world they just had to befriend them.

Case in point, Dustin didn't like to talk, Dustin had talked slightly more to clarify, therefore she was happy and felt like she was "helping" him.

To her he was just a sad, lonely, damaged soul she needed to take in and fix.

Sadly this wasn't the first time this kind of thing had happened to Dustin. This seemed to be his female peers (and apparently late teen females) favorite kind of activity. It was straight out of a movie. They found a "nerd"; fixed him, helped him, dressed him up, tried to dig deep into what made him tick, except when they finally got him to talk they figured out the same things his old friends figured out and realized there was nothing there, or what was there bites, and they threw him back into the wind, moving on with their lives as though they hadn't just taken out a huge chunk of someone's soul and tossed it aside like it was two-week-old garbage.

Dustin had fallen for this trick once, when he was younger and more hopeful and thought that his first group of friends might have been a freak accident, a fluke.

Surely, surely it couldn't happen twice. The lightning that devastated his life the first time couldn't bring him down again, could it?

But life wasn't nice and it wasn't easy, and it really, really didn't like Dustin, so when his makeover had successfully ended and the girls he had thought were helping had reintegrated him into a new set of friends he started talking (because silly him, he thought that was what you did when you have friends) and the whole abuse process that had happened last time started over again, and he was just as slow at figuring it out.

Pity pizza and conversations were worse than angry pizza and conversations because at least in insult, guilt, angry conversations the other people were honest about how little you mattered to them.

It was strange to think that in pity conversations the amount of lying was actually significantly higher.

Heartache; dull, hollow in his chest began to eat at him, spreading a numbness that usually led to depression (if it wasn't already there). Usually when this kind of thing happened Dustin would just bury himself in work or video games or random doodling with headphones on and the music blasting so loud he couldn't think, anything at all so he wouldn't have to relive those memories, to relive that shame. Leaving now would be best idea, the pizza didn't even matter anymore, Dustin wasn't hungry. Any enthusiasm he might have had for pizza or pizza-related items had evaporated with Teagan's beaming smile. The only thing he wanted to do now was go home and curl up under his pillow fort, TV on in the background to fill the silence until he fell asleep.

He could fake a stomach ache (he'd had lots of practice at it) but that would leave her with the idea that rescheduling was an option. That left him with either bolting or telling her to take her crazy, well meaning ideas and shove it. The second option was more of a dream than a real choice. Speaking his mind was something he stopped doing a long time ago and insults were practically fictional to him.

A hand slid into his view; tapping against the table, and he realized with a start that Teagan was trying to get his attention, eyebrows furrowed in concern. He shook his head frantically, seeing the opportunity for what it was and he whipped out his wallet quickly, throwing a few bills onto the table to cover his drink. He mumbled something along the lines of "I've gotta go" and was out of the booth and halfway across the restaurant in record speed, weaving through people and tables like his life depended on it. Teagan called something out behind him but he didn't look back. He doubted she would actually chase him but he wasn't going to risk it, and he was out the door, pounding the pavement before he could really give it any thought.

He gave it four blocks before he slowed down, and only then did he cautiously look over his shoulder, relieved to find that the Nancy do-gooder was gone, and he really was alone.

Shaking his head sadly, he resumed a slight jog, pushing hard until he got home. Home was safe, she didn't know where home was and after today he wouldn't be her problem, and she wouldn't be his.

There was nothing left for them to talk about.

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Teagan had been frozen in surprise; stunned by how quickly everything had gone downhill (she hadn't even said anything wrong; did this guy have something against smiles?), and even more bewildered by the swiftness of his retreat. No question about it, Dustin certainly had the speed and agility to be a ninja, now all she had to do was get him to talk to her.

She was beginning to think that task might be slightly more difficult to do than she had previously assumed.

Across the room from where they had been observing the meeting, Victor and Ian picked up their barely touched beverages and made their way towards her, compelling the earth teacher to slide back into the booth she had just vacated and taking their seats, Ian beside her, Victor across.

With a small huff she pulled her drink in front of her, fiddling with the straw. "You'll confuse your waiter."

Ian gestured absently with his hand, slumping easily against the back of his seat. "I'm sure he'll survive."

He briefly gave her a small smile of encouragement, but Victor was still all business and couldn't be bothered by small talk, so he brusquely started, "That went terribly."

She could tell by his slight glare that she hadn't been the only one to roll her eyes at his comment and despite her failure she smiled, nudging Ian playfully. The blond sighed dramatically and flicked a rolled up straw wrapper in Victor's direction, who swept it away irritably.

"I'm not sure what I did wrong," she admitted after the air ninja had given Ian the sufficient amount of glaring required for his offense.

"You picked Dustin," Victor supplied, inspiring Ian to glare (no student was left behind in his book) and Teagan forced herself to butt in before things got messy.

"It's not just that he's shy, it's…I don't think he trusts girls."

Her comment was met with an "oh, really?" look from Victor, and she retaliated by kicking his shins swiftly.

Childish, but effective.

The glare returned.

"I don't think he trusts anyone," Victor replied, holding his hand up for silence as Ian began to protest. "I asked around the track and it's not just me who barely knows this guy, nobody knows him. He doesn't talk to any of them, not even about racing."

"Because that's so fascinating," Ian mumbled into his drink, ignoring the sour look Victor threw at him.

"He works in a store, he has to talk to people sometime," Teagan insisted, ignoring her friends staring contest.

"I asked about that too," Victor murmured, not missing beat. "He's a mechanic, works in the back."

So that's a nix on the talking.

"Just move on and find another guy," the air teacher continued, not bothered by the faces Ian had been making to distract him.

"No!" she urged, smacking her hand against the table, getting both of their attentions. "Dustin needs this more then any of our other students. I'm not abandoning him just because…" she trailed off, searching for the right words.

Victor attempted to supply them for her, "Just because he's difficult?"

Ian joined her in kicking Victor's shins this time.

The darker teen glared at them before pulling his legs up, shifting his sitting position to Indian style.

Before he could argue, Ian interrupted, strumming his fingers against the table thoughtfully. "Maybe we should get someone else to talk to him," he held up his hand to cut Victor off, returning the gesture from earlier. "Someone who doesn't intimidate him."

Teagan tilted her head in thought. "Like…one of his peers?" she offered cautiously, looking between Ian and Victor for their reactions. Surprisingly both of them looked like they approved of the idea.

"But who?" Ian asked, turning to face her. "Do we get one of the other students or-"

"I've got just the guy," Victor interrupted, unreadable expression on his face. Before either she or Ian could say anything he was standing up from the table, throwing a few bills down to cover his drink, just as Dustin had earlier, and walking away, hands shoved in his pockets.

Surprised for the second time that day (because about five seconds ago Victor had been incredibly against all things Dustin) Teagan just stared at the empty place where her friend used to be while Ian gazed at the air ninja's retreating back, hand up in question. He turned back to her when it became apparent Victor wasn't coming back.

"Did he find a new student?"

Teagan nodded dumbly, pulling out a few dollar bills of her own and shoving them into a pile next to Dustin's.

The light pats Ian gave her did little to lessen her unease. "So he's just going to stick him on your kid, even if they don't know each other?"

She nodded again, marveling at stupidity of it all.

There was a slight pause, and then Ian prompted, "Do you think we should go after him?"

The earth ninja widened her eyes and gave him an incredulous look. "Do you really think we could stop him now that his mind's set on it?"

The pause Ian gave wasn't him actually thinking about it, it was merely to give the appearance that he was thinking about it, because they both knew the answer.

"So…" he started, after the designated moment had passed. "We should spy on them for damage control?"

Teagan rolled her eyes and waved her waiter over (who had luckily also been Ian and Victor's waiter) and asked him for their checks.

When the server left she made a face at Ian. "Do you really have to ask?"

He laughed in response and ruffled her hair lightly, handing her a few bills of his own to cover his drink.

No, pizza would not be on the menu tonight.

Instead they had to hunt down Victor and…not stop, but guide him away from doing something stupid.

They had to at least try and give Dustin some time to breathe before they stuck someone else on him.


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Endnotes:

My apologies for the delay! It's finals time at school and most of them are comprehensive, and on top of that I've got presentations and stuff like that I have to finish up, so my next update (for either story) will be sporadic at best.

Sorry y'all.

That being said, I would like to thank DV2 and Rogue Ranger for their reviews, I will attempt to keep providing you guys with enjoyable reading material and I appreciate the fact that you return the favor.

So we get Dustin's POV this chapter, next will be Shane and Tori, and at some point, hopefully we'll get our first run in with Dustin and Shane soon. We'll just have to see.

Until next time.