"Y'know, Kev, not that I'm complaining about the physical contact, but could you maybe support your own weight a little? My shoulder's killing me." Nat nudged Kevin with the shoulder that he was currently leaning his arm on – admittedly somewhat heavily.

"Sorry, Nat," he answered, straightening slightly but not removing his arm from his friend's shoulder. "I'm just... really tired."

The shoulder pat he received in return was intentionally patronizing, and he swatted Nat's hand away as his friend snickered. "I don't blame you, dude, you've had a long couple of days. I mean, it's totally your fault, but yeah, I get you."

"I'm just glad it's over and I never have to think about it again," Kevin groaned, as the two of them took their seats with Rolf and Nazz. "Hey, guys."

"Hello, Kevin, how has your day of freedom gone?" Rolf greeted.

"Relaxing," Kevin answered dryly.

Nat sniffed. "Still wish you could rub it in his face, though. I mean, you ninja'd in and grabbed the things when all he could do was freak out and mope when no one was looking."

"Ah-heh," was Kevin's immediate reply, as his mind dragged him unwillingly back to the previous Monday. He shook himself. "Like I said, I'd rather not think about it anymore."

"No one's going to force you," Nazz pointed out, with a pointed glance in Nat's direction. Desiring a change of topic, or at the very least a distraction, Kevin busied himself with rummaging through his bag.

"Ah, crap," he muttered at length. "I think I left my lunch in my last class."

Nat looked incredulous. "How'd you manage that?"

"I dunno, I was trying to find something in my bag, and I must have taken my lunch out and forgotten to put it back in." With a sigh, Kevin gave up the search and got to his feet. "Watch my bag, will you? I'm gonna go look."

"Want me to come with?" Nat called after him as he hurried away.

"It's cool!" With that parting reassurance, Kevin broke into a jog. After dodging other students making their own way into the courtyard, he caught the door to the hallway just as it was closing, and slipped in. Hopefully, his Economics teacher hadn't left early, and the room would still be open. Hopefully. He didn't feel like going hungry today.

He and Nat had taken their time getting out into the courtyard, and he was relieved to find that there were next to no students to dodge once he was inside. Satisfied, he slowed to a brisk walk. The room was just on the other end of the hall, but from this distance he couldn't tell whether or not the lights were still on inside. He quickened his pace, eyes fixed on his intended destination, impatient to get back to his waiting friends.

He missed the movement to his left until it was already far too late. Even as he turned his head, he could only just register the quick, dark shape before it caught up with him. Hands seized the front of his sweater, dragged him to the side, and slammed him back against the lockers.

"How. Dare. You."

Kevin's glasses were askew, his hat nearly knocked from his head, as he stared up in complete and utter confusion into Eddward's wrathful eyes. The swim captain had him pinned in place, his fists clenching handfuls of his sweater even as they pressed painfully against his chest. The locker behind him was hard and unforgiving, and the back of his head smarted from striking it.

"Did you honestly think–" Eddward raged in his face "–that you were going to get away with this? Did you?"

Kevin gaped at him, at a loss for words.

"Tell me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he blurted, lying through his teeth and regretting it instantly. No no no, tell the truth, that's the only way –

Eddward yanked him forward just so he could shove him back against the lockers again. "Don't play games with me, Anderson," he said flatly. "Don't ever, ever think you are capable of that. Did you think that I was ignorant of your creeping around me since Friday, avoiding me at all costs? Did you think that you were averting my suspicions?"

"Wait, no, you've got it all wrong, I didn't–"

"Do not interrupt me." Eddward's voice was low, and dripped with menace.

Kevin persisted. "I didn't take your tags, and if you'll just listen, I'll–"

"Don't. Lie. To me."

"I'm not lying, just let me expl–"

"Shut up." Kevin's mouth slammed shut almost involuntarily as Eddward continued. "I would have confronted you about it, or perhaps I would have waited for proper evidence of the theft, but then you got wise and returned them. I was fortunate; Johnny witnessed your pathetic attempt at secrecy."

A hollow space took up residence in the pit of Kevin's stomach, and no amount of nervous swallowing would fill it. Where... how...? The office. He hadn't checked the office beyond a glance through the window.

Eddward's eyes narrowed, boring into Kevin until he shrank back as much as the lockers would allow. "Did you think it would be over if you returned them?" Yes. "Did you think we would be square?" I don't care about square, I just wanted normal. "Well the answer is no, pumpkin. Do you know why?" When there was no immediate answer, Eddward leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose, and it was all Kevin could do not to shut his eyes. "You touched my tags. They are mine, and you put your filthy hands on them."

"Wait, no, I–" Kevin hesitated, unable to contradict the accusation; he had, after all, touched them. Desperately, he forced himself to look Eddward in the eye, and the contemplative, considering look he saw sent an involuntary shiver through him. "Look, I swear I didn't take them from you. All I did was see–"

"It must be so, so very difficult for you, mustn't it?" Eddward's tone of voice had changed, from outright menace to a softer volume with a threatening undertone. Kevin was hard-pressed to keep from shuddering again with a creeping sense of unease.

"W-what?"

"Oh, everyone else with problems as petty and insignificant as yours, who exist beneath the thumbs of the strong, they can comfort themselves, can't they?" Eddward went on, a snarl curling his words. "For the simple reason that what they lack in brawn, they make up for in brains, and that will mean far more for them in the long run than any ball-tossing oaf's fleeting popularity." He paused, looking scornful. "But you? No, you can't tell yourself that without lying through your teeth, can you? Do you know why? Would you like a hint?"

He did not need a hint. He knew why. "Eddward–"

Eddward cut him off bluntly. "It's quite simple, really. You have nothing over me. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, I will always be better than you, and you will always be so much less!" He spat out the last words. Kevin flinched, shutting his eyes as Eddward snarled on viciously. "Average. Ordinary. A footnote in the history of mediocrity. You are nothing, you mean nothing, and no amount of pitiful effort on your part will ever make you anything more." Kevin forced his eyes open, but tucked his chin in and stared at the ground. He wished he could look his tormentor in the eye, he wished he could be defiant, but he did not want to see the utter contempt that he knew would be on Eddward's face. It was bad enough that he had to hear it in his voice. "And if you think that you have accomplished anything with your recent actions, if you think that what you did will mean anything – think again. I will forget that this ever happened. Just like you, just like everything you have ever thought you accomplished, just like everything you ever will accomplish... it will mean nothing."

The last word was a door slamming shut on his hand, the blade of a guillotine falling.

It hurt.

Kevin's eyes remained fixed on the ground. "I just thought–"

"No. You didn't think. I'm curious, pumpkin; what did you do, in lieu of thinking? What could possibly have–"

"I made a mistake." The words slipped out of their own accord. He waited for Eddward to chastise him for interrupting. A sudden boldness, or perhaps simply apathy, enabled him to lift his chin and look at him.

Instead, Eddward simply looked thoughtful again, if dismissive. "Hm. For once, your evaluation actually holds true. I trust that you will not be making such mistakes again, in the future?"

Kevin stared at him, stone-faced. "...I won't."

The swimmer released him roughly, and without another word, turned on his heel and left.

Kevin remained leaning back against the locker, his breath coming in harsh and shallow. He was trembling; he couldn't tell whether he had just started or just noticed, but either way, he was unsure of his ability to stand much longer. Slowly, shakily, he slid down to a sitting position to wait for the shaking to stop. A burning sensation behind his eyes made him duck his head again, though there was no one around to see. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and then another, and when the burning did not fade but was joined by an aching thickness in his throat, he knew inevitability when he felt it.

"Kevin?"

He started, visibly, and looked up to see Nat standing a few yards away, looking bewildered and worried.

"Kevin, what happened?" Nat was approaching him slowly, cautiously. "You were taking a while, so I thought... and I just passed by Eddward. Did...?" His voice trailed off.

Kevin tried to hold it back, he really did, but a choked sob forced its way out of him nonetheless. Ashamed, he buried his face in his arms, against his knees, and let the tears fall out of sight. Crying. How pathetic. The voice in his head sounded uncannily close to Eddward's.

He felt Nat slide to the ground beside him, and cautiously wrap an arm around his hunched shoulders. This would not last long. In a moment or two, he would look up, dry his eyes, and explain himself. He would forgo retrieving his lunch, he and Nat would return to the others, and he would tell them what had happened. He would try, and fail, to hide how deeply the words had hurt, and they would understand and pretend he was convincing them, while offering what support they could.

For now, however, he sat with his best friend in an empty hallway and released as much of the ugliness that Eddward had left him with as he could.


He was quiet when he got home.

Not once did he fake a smile or force a laugh for his parents' benefit. His answers to their casual questions and his contributions to dinner table conversation were laconic, rarely exceeding one or two syllables if more were unnecessary. His parents noticed quickly, and he had known that they would, but silence was better than faking normalcy. Falsehood was not his forte; if he tried to pretend he was okay when he was not (and at the moment "okay" seemed like wishful thinking), he would only make his mood all the more obvious. Lying by omission was far easier than lying outright, even if it was barely any more successful.

He was glad that his mother had the consideration to wait until late evening, when he was nearly finished with his homework, to approach him. (But then, she was always considerate.) He was in his room, his door closed, his phone switched off, bent over his desk and the physics calculations in his textbook. His mother knocked gently at his bedroom door; he only knew it was his mother when she waited for his reluctant "Yes?" before entering.

"Hey, Kevin." She sounded cautious, as if she was approaching a wild deer instead of her teenage son.

"Hey."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine." He didn't look up or turn around, but he heard the rustle and creak that told him that his mother was sitting down on his bed. To distract himself from his dread of the coming conversation, he turned a page with a bit more attentiveness than was necessary. "Almost done."

"That's not what I meant, sweetie." God, she sounded so sad. He was pretty sure she didn't mean to guilt him, but still. Sometimes he wondered if moms had built-in guilt trips. "You've been quiet today."

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"Stuff." Maybe, with a little luck, she'd get impatient and leave.

Luck, it seemed, had abandoned him for quite some time. He heard her sigh, but it was far from a give-up sigh and much closer to a long-suffering patient one. "Kevin."

The unspoken request hung in the air. Look at me. Reluctantly, he turned his head, but did not put down his pencil. She looked worried, and curious, and eager to help. He bit his lip, not wanting to look at her earnestness for long.

She patted the spot next to her. "Come on, take a break." Wordlessly, he obeyed, and settled down next to her. His face was as expressionless as he could make it. "Did something happen at school?"

As a last resort, he gave false normalcy a try. "Things happen at school every day, Mom. That's what your taxes are for." The joke came out forced and hollow, enough that he knew a fake smile would do nothing to save it.

Sure enough, her smile was sad, more a simple encouragement than an honest show of amusement. "You know what I mean, sweetie. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," he mumbled.

"Are your classmates still bothering you? I can call in to your principal if you need."

"Won't help." By the look on her face, she probably agreed; running to the school administration was one of the worst ways to deal with a bullying problem.

"Is anyone hurting you?" She tried to make the question casual, but the edge in her voice betrayed her worry.

"No," he said quickly. "No, it's not that, I'm fine, it's just... its stupid." Distractedly he took off his glasses and wiped them on the corner of his shirt. "It's just some stuff someone said, that's all." He hoped she wouldn't ask for details. He didn't want to think about what Eddward had said, much less repeat it. It was bad enough he was letting it bother him at all.

His mother settled her arm around his shoulders. "Hey. You know that old saying? Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me?"

"Yeah," he answered, unenthusiastically. He put his glasses back on.

"Well," she went on. "That's the biggest bunch of crock anyone ever came up with."

This startled a snicker out of him.

"I know words can hurt, Kevin," she assured him. "That's why people use them. It's okay if they get to you – it happens. You don't have to pretend you aren't bothered. It's – it's okay to not be okay."

He nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak.

"And you know what else words can do?" Before he could reply, she pulled him into a hug. "Listen, Kevin. I know maybe you don't want to hear this because I'm your mother and it's embarrassing, but I won't tell if you won't, deal?" He nodded. "I love you, and I will always love you. You are honest, and smart, and imaginative, and you never, ever give up, and you are wonderful because of that. You are a good person, and you matter, Kevin. And if anyone says otherwise, well, you have my permission to avoid them, because you don't need that kind of negativity in your life. Okay?"

He was pretty sure he managed to answer in the affirmative before she left him grinning and embarrassed, and feeling somewhat better for the first time since that afternoon.