John didn't dare get up. He stayed curled into a ball until the other boy had scared away Anderson and the girl, and even then, he was still wary. The boy could still turn on him and then he would be in a fine state of affairs.

Sherlock watched Anderson and Sally until they went all the way back to their side of the playground. Then he brushed most of the dust off his clothes and turned to the new boy. He still wasn't sure why he'd stood up for him - he would be an even bigger target for Anderson's crew now.

The new boy stood up. Sherlock looked him up and down. His name was John W, he had a brother called Harry with some sort of addiction, this was his favorite jumper, plays football, he had had cereal for breakfast and his parents were - Sherlock stopped. John was staring back at him. He looked slightly frightened of Sherlock. Sherlock sighed; he was used to it. He introduced himself anyways.

"Sherlock Holmes. Nice to meet you, John - well, not so nice for you. How's your brother doing lately?" John's mouth hung open. Sherlock waited for the hurricane of words that usually came after his deductions. Finally, John spoke.

"... Fine, thanks! How did you know? I'm not in any of your classes but maths!" He sounded shocked, not angry.

"It's obvious," Sherlock said. "Your lunchbox."

"My... Lunchbox?" asked John.

"For goodness' sakes. Your name is on it, inked above your brother's, which is crossed out. It's not hard to tell."

"Oh.. " said John. "Why did you stop Anderson? He's got to weigh two stone more than you."

"I've had lots of practice fighting him. He usually beats up on me. Serves him right, about his ankle, " said Sherlock.

"What happened to it? Why doesn't he want a bandage for it?" asked John.

"Oh, it was his dad. He tells Anderson he needs to be tougher and man through the pain, and then he gives him pain to man through. If Anderson bandages it, his dad makes it worse. Stupid, really." Sherlock said it in a careless tone, as though it were nothing more than the weather. John stared.

"Do you want to... do you want to be my friend?" he asked at last. Whatever Sherlock was expecting him to say, that clearly was not it. No one had ever said that after kindergarten to him - all his classmates were afraid of him. The idiots thought he read their minds.

"Are you sure? If you don't, you won't get any more. It'll be social suicide, " Sherlock said finally. He still sounded shocked.

"They won't talk to me anyways. They don't like that I wear jumpers when it's hot. Besides, I like you better," said John.

"Okay," said Sherlock. He almost smiled, something he never did at school. "So why do you wear jumpers when it's hot?" John was silent. He didn't reply. Sherlock thought he had better change the topic. This was clearly something his friend was not comfortable with and he didn't want to lose him.

"So what football team are you on?" Sherlock knew nothing about football but it turned out to be one of John's favorite subjects as well as activities. They talked for a rather long time, until the bell rang.