**Author's Note**
Holy crap, are we really still only on day 2? Goodness. Well, you might wanna strap in, because some big reveals are happening this chapter, so you don't want to miss this! But before we dive in,
Review time!
Random Fangirl: Thank you. But I'm not really trying to deepen the characters, I'm simly trying to keep them as canon as possible. You keep reading, I'll keep writing.
Himetnd: Oh, I KNOW. I've always seen Edd as the closet pervert. While Eddy jokes about some stuff, Double D inwardly laughs and thinks of a thousand dirtier things. GRIN
jesiejr21: Oh yes. But I do seem to recall him being able to easily manipulate Kevin in the show as well, with th right bit of bait, of course.
And now, on with this dramatic chapter!
How to Date an Ed
Ch. 10
Kevin stands in his shower, letting the hot water run down his back. His thoughts are scattered. He doesn't know what the hell just happened in the car. The dork grinded a quesadilla into his crotch. Quite provacatively, if he says so himself. And he's pretty sure it was on purpose. Needless to say, he thinks the sockhead might be sexually harassing him. But, this is Double Dork. Could he have the balls? And if so, can he withstand it for that precious Eagle? The redhead's imagination immediately plants him on top of the roaring machinery, the vibration of the motor resonating through his muscles. His resolve hardens. He will withstand, dammit.
And, he does have to give it to the genius, he supposes. No where in his conditions did he say he couldn't be harrassed. And, another hand to the genius, he didn't even think about becoming a coach. Though he thinks it would not bode well if he tried. Coaching would mean making up plans and strategizing. Nope. Don't think so. He'll stick to his backup plan. Though he does think he'll have to add the "no harrassing" to the conditions when he goes over to the dork's house.
The redhead frowns as he turns off the shower. He knows that he's only pretending to date the dork, but what if that sockhead actually sees him coming over for dinner as an actual date? A bad taste settles in the back of the tan male's throat. If that is the case, he'll have to call off the whole deal. Pretending is one thing, but making them both suffer over this stunt? Yeah, he'd rather not. But, that's if this dinner is seen as a date. He honestly really hopes not. But, he supposes there's only one way to find out.
With that thought in mind, he dries off and heads to his closet.
After tossing on a blue shirt and some new jeans, Kevin heads back over to Edd's house, deciding to forgoe his Mustang. It's only twenty feet, he's not gonna waste gas for that. Once again, he gazes at the seemingly empty house. Like before, even the white paint is spotless. Almost glistening. Still quite disturbing. The only difference is that a light from the living room was on. Somehow it made the sight of the house even more forboding. After much trepidation, the redhead rings the doorbell.
And is immediately greeted by the dork. Who is wearing an apron. A white one, with sunflowers on it. Needless to say, he has to choke back a snort. The dork looks ridiculous! But he somehow manages to grunt out a greeting.
"Yo."
The sockhead smiles at him.
"Hello again, Kevin. Please come in."
The athlete obliges, looking around the house. As he feared, it was just as spotless on the inside as the outside was. Though, with a sigh of relief, it definitely feels homier. The living room and foyer are accented with reds and blacks and whites, while some abstract art adorned the walls. Strange, though, how there are no pictures of anyone in sight...
"Erm, dinner is not quite ready yet, so please make yourself at home. Oh, but first, please remove your shoes and wear these."
Suddenly, a pair of white fluffy house shoes are shoved into his face. Kevin looks around them to the dork with a look of disbelief.
"You're kidding, right?"
Unfortunately, the sockhead shakes his head.
"I'm afraid not. If it makes you feel any better, though, they're not bunny shaped."
A snort escapes him. Okay, at least there's that. He quickly glances down to see if the sockhead was wearing the aformentioned bunny slippers. Nope. They were blue and very plain, and like the dork, yet not. Weird. Shrugging, he kicks off his sneakers and slips on the, oh, comfy slippers. He turns to look at his host, who has apparently disappeared back into the kitchen. Frowning slightly, he shrugs off the sudden vanishing act, and heads to the living room. Let's see, what does the dork like to do for entertainmet?
The living room had a large flat screen tv, but he couldn't see any cable boxes or consoles anywhere closeby the damn thing. Really weird, but he supposes he can get back to it later. Oh, of course there are bookshelves acting like endtables. Though, unfortunately, one end had nothing but world history books, and the other one had...comic books? He guesses for whenever Ed came over. A glass coffee table sat in the middle of the room, holding three different remotes. One was a controller for a console of some sort, though he is positive he has never seen one like this. It appears to be custom made. Kevin picks it up and is pleasantly surprised; the handles are made of that memory gel. That's awesome. But that means there IS a console somewhere.
"Hey, Double D!"
"Yes?!" a shout answers. Huh, he really must be working on that food.
"How do you turn your video game console on?!"
"One moment please!" the voice responds.
Urgh, fine, he guesses. The redhead stares at the remote in his hand; to be really honest, it almost looks as if the controller was built from scratch. A couple of the buttons and triggers don't exactly match, and the direction pad looks older than some of the other pieces. Did the dork make this?
Speak of the Devil, the young genius enters, looking slightly disgruntled. He goes over to the wall housing the tv, and flips a switch on the wall. Kevin watches, amazed, as a panel slides open, showing not only the cable box, but one of the coolest looking consoles he has ever seen. Bits from a Playstation, a Wii, an Xbox, hell, it even looked like bits of a Gameboy were thrown into this thing.
"Whoa."
The dork blushes.
"Erm, thank you, Kevin. I call it the Rapier Elite."
"Dude, this is awesome."
The blue eyed man blushes harder, but a smile graces his face this time. Good. Be prideful. Cuz if this wasn't something to be proud about, Kevin would eat his hat.
"Thank you again. It can play just about any game on a disc, whether it's a PC game, or for an actual console."
Okay, so to say the least, Kevin was almost beyond impressed. He really wants to play a game on this thing. The itch was almost unbearable.
"Got any games for this thing?"
A gaped tooth grin is his answer.
"Of course."
The sockhead grabs one of the remotes and presses a button on it. A smirk appears on the slimmer male's face as another panel slides open underneath the first, revealing video games, dvds, and it even looks like some music cds. All the redhead could do was stare.
"Dude."
"Take your pick. I must get back to dinner."
And with that, the sockhead spins around and trots back to the kitchen.
Kevin immediately searches the video games. He recognizes most of them, and some he didn't. Unfortunately, the ones he didn't recognize looked like puzzle games. Of course the dork would like those. His green eyes slide to the dvds. Most of them were boring, educational, but one section caught his eye.
"Dude, you watch Red vs Blue, too?!"
He should've expected a response, yet he still jumps when an excited voice reaches him.
"Yes!"
Okay, so the dork automatically just got less dorky. And now they have something in common. These next two weeks just got a lot less boring. Grinning at the prospect of a marathon of his favorite series, the athlete decides to check out the sockhead's music collection. And he is honestly lost. He has no idea who any of these artists are. Though Flogging Molly sounds familiar. But Parachute? Lindsay Stirling? Spyro Gyro? Shrugging, he grabs the Stirling case and pops the cd into the Rapier. Man, he really needs to get one of these.
The television automatically turns on, and the graphics for the Rapier are incredible. And kinda trippy. A little menu pops up, asking if he wanted to play the cd. He clicks the affirmative button on the remote, and is immediately thrown to an avatar at a DJ station tossing a record on. The music starts playing. Goosebumps slowly wind up his arms. This artist is amazing; a violin playing, but with modern pop music accompanying it flawlessly in the background, neither outdoing the other. He feels himself sway gently to the beat, listening yet not. A pool of energy gradually fills him; he needs to do something more than just sway side to side. He should dance.
No, the green eyed male thinks. He should go help the dork, get this dinner over with. Lay his conditions down, then get the hell out of this spell. And find all the music this Stirling chick has ever done. Nodding his head, he heads to the kitchen, still wary of what tonight will pertain. Crap, he's thinking like the dork again. Don't think, don't think, don't think- oh, wow, that smells awesome. The redhead enters the kitchen area to find the dork nearly halfway in the stove, messing around with- that's steak. Holy crap, that's steak. Alarm bells ring off in his brain, as the sockhead hauls out the two very large slabs of meat out of the oven and on to two platters. The dork turns around and jolts.
"Oh, Kevin! You startled me. Is something wrong?"
Yeah, you obviously think this is a date. By some miracle, the athlete holds his panicking thoughts at bay as he instead offers his assistance. He's doing it again! Fuck!
"Nah, just bored. Need any help?"
A wide gaped tooth smile is his answer.
"I suppose you can help me set up the table? I've cooked up quite a storm."
Translation. He cooked alot of food. This is not good. Ah, man. Sighing and nodding his head, he grabs a large pot from the stove and follows the dork down a hall (still no pictures. Starrting to get really creepy with that,) to a decent sized dining room, decorated in light yellow. Flowery. But neutral. Bemused, he sets the covered pot in the middle of the wooden table, that only has... two... seats. Shit. If he wasn't sweating bullets before, he definately is now. Stiffly, he watches the genius flit around the table, setting silverware and other covered dishes onto the table- how and where did he get those?
"Kevin, what would you like to drink?"
Torn from his paranoia and confusion, Kevin stares at Edd. Drink? If he were honest, a bottle of tequila would be perfect right about now. But he's guessing the dork means non-alcoholic.
"Eh, water's fine, dude."
The dork gives him a look of confusion and then shrugs.
"Alright then. One moment, please."
Nodding, the larger male plops down into a chair, staring hungrily, yet warily at the large medium rare steak on his plate. Scarf down food, thank for meal, get out. Scarf down food, thank for meal, get out. Scarf- the dork is back, with a fancy glass of ice water for him. He takes it from the sockhead and takes a tenative sip. Yep, just regular water. He sets it down beside his plate, and notices the dork has a wine glass too. Looks like some sort of juic- nope, that's real wine, he realizes, as the smell hits his nostrils full force. The strong shit, too, holy crap. Kevin watches the smaller male place the wine glass down, and open the large pot he brought in.
Saliva gathers in his mouth as a delicious smell washes over him. Oh man, seafood. In some sort of alfredo sauce. His one weakness. He stares longingly as a ladel is taken from the pot and- POURS THE SEAFOOD OVER HIS STEAK. Dear God. The dork is serving him surf and turf. This is way too fancy for a quick unplanned dinner. Was this planned? For how long? And if this was his way to seduce the redhead, he's afraid to say it might be working. MIGHT. Slowly, he takes a bite of the cooked meat. And nearly misses stifling a moan. Sweet Jesus. The steak's juices flowed harmoniously with the aflredo sauce, and the chewiness of the shrimp didn't deterr from the raw goodness that was the beef. He digs into the dish like a starving man just finding paradise. Green eyes catch the sockhead scooping out some green and yellow gloop from one of the other pots and almost splats it onto his own plate.
"What the hell is that?" he wonders out loud.
Blue eues glance up at him.
"This is spinach and artichoke cheese dip. One of my guilty pleasures."
Kevin grimaces. He was immediately turned off at the mention of artichoke. Whatever. Let him have is rabbit food; he'll dig into the delicousness. Though the redhead does notice that, even while he's digging into his steak and seafood, the dork is barely nibbling at his "guilty pleasure." Instead, the sockheaded genius is downing the wine like it's going out of style or something. And looking pretty damn awkward. No, that's not the right word. Trepidation? He thinks so; he does remember looking that word up for vocabulary last semester.
"What's up, D?"
Edd's head jerks up to look at him, the expression of reluctance on his face.
"I was wondering when you were going to breach the subject. And it unfortunately made me lose my appetite."
Subject? What subject? Why would- oh. Right. Right!
"Yeah. So, are you gonna tell me?"
"About why I am at Frutare University instead of some Ivy League college? Yes."
Eddward takes a large swig from the wine before setting it down. This is going to be quite difficult. He's not sure if he's ready to tell anybody. Hell, coming out of the proverbial closet is easier than this. The only other people who know about this secret are Ed and Eddy. And he didn't have to tell them about it; they were there to witness. Hand shaking slightly, he takes another long drink. Will Kevin pity him? See him differently? Not react at all? He glances up at the redhead. Oh, drat, he's waiting.
"I suppose I should start with seventh grade."
Kevin gives him a confused look.
"What about seventh grade?"
The young genius swallows thickly.
"Do you remember the one Wednesday I flipped out on everyone and skipped school for the first time ever?"
How could Kevin forget? It was in that moment, where he was proud to know the sockhead. He was in the hallway, heading to class, when all of a sudden, Double D started screeching at the top of his lungs, cussing out everryone he could see. Some girls about cheating their way into AP classes, some guys about having no ambition for the future, some teachers about their lack of passion, some jocks about their bullying. The dork was merciless. He even tongue-lashed Nazz for being a steryotypical popular girl with no opinion in fear of being shunned. Then he threw all his stuff in his locker and went home. Needless to say, when he came back the next day, the whole school was chaos. He had apologized for his behavior to the whole school population, but the damage was done. Now everyone knew that the dork had a limit. Took awhile to get to that limit, but once you cross it, beware.
"Yeah?"
"Well, I was under a lot of pressure, and it sadly spilled over that day. Which I regret taking it out on the school. But, it helped me into a decision that should have been done a while ago. That very same day, when I left, I divorced my parents."
What?
"What?"
Blue eyes roll softly.
"I had called and hired a lawer and had gotten my parents and a judge to sign a form saying I was a legal adult, regardless of my age. I freed myself from them. Oh, the paperwork that came after, to change the bills and title of house into my name was a nightmare. But I could now do whatever I wanted."
Holy shit. The dork is a badass. Though, he guesses if any one of the cul-de-sac kids could be an adult in middle school, it would definately be Double D. But...
"How do you pay for all this? You said you didn't get a job until college."
A black eyebrow quirks at him slightly. Almost smugly.
"Why, all the prize money I had gained from winning all my Science, English, Math, and History fairs and contests. From first grade to seventh, it had accumulated in a bank. Plus interest turned the total to nine hundred and sixty seven thousand something dollars. With the mortgage already paid off, it was simple math to prepay my bills."
Green eyes widen. Okay, now he is officially beyond impressed. Double D doesn't even need the job he has, what the hell.
"Okay, well, while that is awesome, it doesn't tell me why you're here and not at like Harvard or something."
The smug little grin the sockhead was wearing is quickly wiped off his face. Which is a little disappointing. That stupid grin really showed him how proud the dork really was in beating the system.
"Oh, yes. Well, because I was emancipated from my parents, I had no one to lean on when... um... my tumor happened."
That gets Kevin to set his fork down. The dork had a tumor?
"What?"
Ah, shit, he's blabbering now.
"I thought it was gone! We all did, even my mother, who is a very successful brain surgeon, thought that the first and second surgeries had worked. I barely needed the chemo-therapy. Yet, there it was, many years later."
The sockhead is talking past tense. So, it's gone again. But what happened this time? He sounds really upset over it.
"What happened?"
Oh, man, the dork's eyes are really glassy. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry!
"After sophomore year, it was removed. But the doctor who did it wasn't paying attention and took more brain tissue than needed. He took my memories. A large chunk of my childhood is missing. I don't remember meeting Ed or Eddy, I don't remember most of our adventures. I barely remember any words that I would normally use, and I honestly do not recall oweing you a bike chain. Eddy had to tell me that story. Eddy and Ed told me all of the stories, but I'm pretty sure they're biased or simply wrong. And my recovery was the reason why nobody saw us that summer; we had holed up in here, Eddy and Ed doing the best they can to get me back to normal."
Kevin is silent. He remembers that summer; he was beyond paranoid that the Eds were up to something. And nothing had happened, and everyone saw them at school, looking... rougher. Eddy had gained a brand new scar on his chin, Ed stopped smiling and saying stupid shit randomly, and Edd... was fine. Nothing had seemed to change with the dork. The only difference he could even think of was what little hair stuck out the back end of his hat was longer. Literally, it.
"... And the anxiety attacks?"
He sees Edd cringe, but reluctantly answer.
"They don't happen as often as you think. But, while healing, Eddy was getting frustrated and yelled at me. I had my first attack, and when I came to, both Eddy and Ed were crying. Somehow I had ripped my stitches open and was digging into the wound with a pair of sewing scissors. And when Eddy tried to stop me, I slashed at him, causing the scar we see today. After that, he had made an oath of silence. And hasn't spoken since."
Kevin feels sick. He could see it, too, that "nobody's home" look on the young genius's face, and holding up a pair of scissors. It sends chills down his spine. No wonder shortstack won't talk anyomore. If he caused that to the dork... wait.
"So, what caused it at Taco Bell?"
The paler male looks at him in slight surprise.
"Oh, I think it might have been the pressure of choosing a meal. It could have also been simply being outside my comfort zone. Not doing the same thing over and over again? I t could be a thousand things. Don't feel at fault."
But he kinda does. Not completely, but he guesses they didn't have to go to the restaurant. He could have just gotten it for them. But if the sockhead says it's okay, then it must be. Besides, the attack at Taco Bell seemed light in comparasion to the first one. Regardless, he will be keeping sharp, pointy objects away from the dork.
"This still doesn't explain why you're here and not at a real college."
The slighter male gives him an "are you a special kind of stupid?" look.
"...As I said, my memory is shot. All my past achievements mean nothing if I can't remember how to create or explain them. And good luck to me to remember new material. So, here I am, stuck. Probably going to end up as an ant farmer," he finishes sadly.
Kevin thinks for a second.
"Well, what were you going to do?"
Double D looks at him questioningly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Before the tumor thing. What did you want to do when you grew up?"
The dork stares at him, flabbergasted.
"Ah-Um-well- why... do you want to know?"
The redhead shrugs.
"Why not?"
The genius opens his mouth to counter, but nothing comes out. he snaps his jaw shut and glowers at him.
"If you must know, I was going into cell regeneration. Help people regain body parts they've lost because of accidents, war, disease, or some stupid choice they did."
"That's cool."
And it is. He did have a grandfather who served in the military, and lost his left arm thanks to a bomb who would've probably jumped at the chance of having his arm back, were he alive.
"Thank you."
"So, the only reason you ain't persuing your dream is because your memory is kinda shitty now?"
Edd blinks at him.
"Using horrid grammar and summarizing it, yes, that's it exactly."
Kevin frowns.
"That's dumb."
Blue eyes glare at him forloringly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"C'mon, Double D, you already know your memory isn't what it used to be. So, work around it. Keep notes handy. I dunno, find your dorky way of figuring shit out. Leave a video diary or something."
The sockhead stares at him, silent, with his eyes blown impossibly wide. Kevin does his best not to squirm. He feels like he's being observed. He HATES that feeling.
"You're right."
A big smile spreads across the young genius's face. Kevin feels the tension in the air vanish.
"I know I'm right. So what are you going to do about it?"
The grin turns slightly malicious, almost as if the dork just accepted the most difficult of challenges.
"Why, prove you wrong, of course."