This is a long one. Yup.

Thanks to MissG2020 and missingthepoint for the reviews. I was reminded I have other stories. I'll try to update another one of them soon. :P

...Wow. What is with these short NOTES?

Disclaimer: I do not own the Boondocks.

War of the Worlds

She stood at the window as the sun rose over the horizon, ignoring the light snores from the blonde who was sleeping on the other side of her bed. Her fingers held the curtain aside so that she could gaze down into the driveway where an unfamiliar car had pulled up, the engine quiet as the early dawn but not silent enough to keep from waking her. She held her breath, her heart beat pulsing in her ears as she watched a familiar person crawl out the passenger seat, his smile huge as he crossed over to the driver's side to say something into the open window. She could make out a woman she'd never seen before, who was staring at him the way she'd once seen her parents stare at each other when they'd actually loved each other.

For the first time in her life, she wasn't naïve about it. She wasn't too green to not know that this woman, this stranger wasn't just simply dropping him off. She wasn't too ignorant not to notice that this woman she didn't even know was getting more attention from her dad than his own family.

She wasn't too stupid to not see that her mother wasn't the only one doing the crossing.

Her eyes closed and she let the curtain fall over the window again, the room becoming much darker.

Ignorance was bliss and knowledge was power. But with knowledge there was pain. Hurt. Sadness.

Her hand gently formed a fist and she opened her eyes, narrowing them. She opened the curtain again just in time to see the car back out the driveway, her father walking towards the front door as if he didn't have a care in the world.

He probably didn't.

She let the curtain close again, turning away. For the first time since this entire ordeal with her parents had started, she didn't cry. She didn't even tear. Instead she glanced towards her door. She could hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs, could hear their bedroom door creaking open before it was closing tightly again. She sighed.

It was just another burden, another secret, another problem that wasn't hers that she'd have to keep with her along with all the others. She tried to save the world, even if she'd been told that "if you try to save everyone, you wind up saving no one".

She was tired of trying to save the world. She was tired of trying to save anyone.

She was tired.

That was why instead of feeling the sadness consume her, another, much stronger emotion emerged.

Anger.

And for the first time in her seventeen years, she decided at that the universe could handle its own shit from then on because she was done. She was done with people. She was absolutely done with putting her all into people and getting nothing but disappointment and she was tired of people dumping all their crap onto her and giving nothing in return. She was done with putting other people's feelings before her own. She was sick of feeling like she was the only one who cared. She was sick of feelingin the first place. She was sick of everything.

She didn't want a part in it anymore.

Any of it.

Cindy could tell that her Monday morning was about to turn to shit the moment her phone started going off.

She glanced at the screen of her vibrating phone, pausing on the front steps of the school. Instead of trekking forward she made a one eighty, jogging back down the steps and walking a short distance down the sidewalk, ignoring people who pushed past her, laughing and complaining about it being so early. She pressed the talk button, taking a deep breath and holding the phone up to her ear.

"What."

"Is that any way to talk to your mother, Cynthia?" she heard her mom ask in her ear. She tucked her hair behind her ear, closing her eyes.

"What, mother?" she ground from between clenched teeth, nodding towards a group of guys she noticed from her marine biology class before speaking again. "I'm at school."

"Of course." Her mom sounded as if she were one of three things; drunk, high, or simply deluded into thinking that they were okay when they weren't. With her luck it was a combination of the three. "I apologize that I'm calling to check on my only child, who I haven't seen in days."

Cindy's hand tightened around the phone.

"Whose fault is that?"

Her mother's laugh was casual, airy. "Oh, Cynthia." The girl's eyebrows rose. "When are you going to stop being unreasonable?"

Cindy nearly gaped at the phone. "I'm being unreasonable?" Before her mother could go on she spoke again. "No. No. Mom, you don't get it. I stay away from you because I refuse to be around a bunch of drama! I don't come around because when I'm over Jazmine's I ain't gotta fear for my life. Do you even care about me, mom? Do you care about any of that?"

Shit. Her mother was in one of her phases, this phase being the I-guess-it's-time-to-pretend-to-be-a-good-mother one. Half the time she couldn't be bothered with Cindy's schedule, and then out of nowhere she wanted to give a damn. Sure enough…

"I'll tell you what I care about," her mother nearly growled, her voice low in Cindy's ear. "I care about the fact that you disappear for days at a time and I have no idea where you are, what you're doing-"

"Oh, come on-"

"I am your mother, Cindy." Her mom referring to her as her nickname wasn't like for other people; other people saw "Cynthia" as a punishment. Her mom was the exact opposite. "I don't care what I do or how you feel about it, but I am your mother, and as your mother you do what I tell you to."

Cindy's spine stiffened. She could feel fury rising in her veins.

"A shoe rack makes a better mom than you do," she snapped angrily. "Jazmine's parents are more like parents to me than you'll everbe." She could feel her throat tightening. "They'd do anything for me. I've never felt like I belonged until I started staying with them."

Her words were met with a silence so cold she felt herself cringe. She knew that her mom had never been a big fan of Mr. and Mrs. Dubois, especially when Sarah had been the defense lawyer for one of her ex husbands. She was one of the few people who didn't like Jazmine, sure that she was trying to turn Cindy against her. For her to say that she basically preferred them over her…well, it wasn't something that would go over well. She heard her mom clear her throat.

"Well, your little vacation's over, because you're coming home."

Cindy froze. Around her, the steadily blowing wind seemed to cease, the entire street giving way to silence. It was like time around her had stopped. She forced herself to keep breathing.

"…What?"

"After school, you're coming home." Her mom's tone was final. "You aren't their child, as much as you'd like that to be different. You're my daughter. And you live under my roof."

"Mom." Cindy's voice was thick. "You can't do this-"

"I can, and I will." She heard her mom sigh. "It's something I should've done a long time ago."

Cindy wasn't much of a crier, but she felt tears begin to well in her eyes. She closed them, sniffing.

"I won't do it." Her chest was aching. "I won't go."

She heard a snort, as if her mom was finding the situation funny.

"I'm sure Jazmine's parents can explain to you the legal aspects of this situation being that they're lawyers," she said in a tone cold enough to make the summer heat feel like winter against her skin. "If I tell you to come home you are to do so. You are my child, you're my responsibility-"

"Since when?"

"-and you're a minor." Her mom emphasized the last part over the rest, talking over Cindy's protesting. "That means that until you turn eighteen you do what I tell you. If you were to stay there without my consent I could call the cops. I could sue them, Cindy." Cindy's eyes widened. "Did you know that? Is that what you want?"

Cindy hated her mother. She truly, utterly despised her. She could get hit by a bus and she wouldn't even bat an eyelash.

"Is it?"

The stupid bitch.

Cindy exhaled through her nose, trying to clear her head of its racing thoughts. She had to go home. She had to go back to her mother and her mother's stupid, abusive, drunk boyfriend. In other words she had to go back to sleeping with her door locked (a habit she'd just gotten out of) and basically venturing through her own house with a bat in case anyone tried to give her shit.

She couldn't. She'd rather die.

If she went back, there was a chance that she would.

"I'll get emancipated." The words were out of Cindy's mouth before her brain even registered them; once spoken, however, it sounded like a damn good idea. "Then the only person I'll have to answer to is myself-"

"And how exactly do you figure you'd get away with that, dear?" her mother asked in a false interested voice. Cindy's eyes narrowed. "You belong to the third richest family in Woodcrest, if not all of Maryland. You can have everything you want. Why would a judge see fit to take you out my care when I can provide you with your every need?" Cindy blinked. "Besides, by the time the proceedings would be over with you'd probably already be eighteen." When Cindy didn't say anything, settling on biting her lip and trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall, her mom went on.

"Cynthia." Her tone was soft, sympathetic almost. "I'm not doing this to punish you-"

"Then why are you doing it?" Cindy breathed, her voice barely a whisper. Her mom sighed.

"Because, despite what you think…I love you. I miss you. And I want things to be okay between us."

'Your definition of love is a joke,' Cindy thought. She cleared her throat, the warning bell from school vaguely ringing in her ears.

"Fine. I'll be home after school."

She could practically see the smile that her mother's face held, even before she spoke into the phone.

"I'm glad you've come to your senses."

Cindy shook her head, her knuckles white from how hard she was gripping the cell phone.

"Oh, and mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

Cindy snorted, her eyes hardening.

"You can burn in hell." She hung up the phone before she could get any retort, squeezing it so tightly that she was surprised it didn't crack. She turned back around, heading up the significantly less crowded stairs and nearly throwing open the front doors as she strode inside.

She couldn't believe that she had to go back to that place. Living with her mother wasn't home. Living with her mother was barely humane! She hated the thought of returning there; it felt like she had to separate herself from her friends when she did, just so she wouldn't give anything away or expose her life for the complete mess it was.

And poor Jazmine had gotten so accustomed to Cindy being around, to finally not having to be alone so much, only for things to have to change. She'd innocently asked if she could spend the night over Cindy's one time and the blonde had nearly screamed at her that she could never stay there, making her think that she didn't want her to. It was the exact opposite; she wished that Jazmine could stay with her. She wished that she and Jazmine could just drop everything and drive to California, a plan that they always tossed around when either of them were having a horrible day and they wanted to imagine that things could be better than what they were. They were practically inseparable, and now her stupid mother was coming between then as if she were trying to pull apart Siamese twins.

"You," she heard, quickly lifting her head to see Caesar siding up to her, his stride matching her own, "look horrible."

That was the thing about all her friends being boys. They were always being so damn honest.

Cindy made a face. "That's something every girl wants to hear."

"I do what I can." Caesar stopped, reaching into his bag. Cindy stopped as well, her hand holding on to the strap of her own backpack as he pulled out a brown paper bag, handing it to her. "It's an extra sausage biscuit. The moron at the McDonalds I stopped at jacked up my order so they gave me an extra one, which Riley stole." He rolled his eyes. "But I stole Huey's bagel anyway and I know you scarf these things down like they're candy so you can have it."

"Oh." Cindy held the bag with both hands, staring down at it. "Thanks."

Caesar gave her a look. "What's up with you?"

Cindy shrugged, sighing. "Just wishing that this year was over already."

Caesar smirked, lightly punching her shoulder and continuing down the hallway. "Join the club."

She watched him merge into the thinning crowd, staring back down at the bag. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the morning before. With all the running around she'd been doing she usually forgot to eat.

Besides…she was finding that the few times she did remember to eat, she wasn't hungry. Or even if she was, she'd for some reason just really, really prefer to do something else. Her sudden aversion to food was strange, but not as nearly as strange as the fact that the longer she went without eating…the better she seemed to feel. It didn't make sense, and it wasn't something she felt like trying to make sense of.

That was why instead of eating the sandwich she crumpled the bag even further, tossing it into the trash as she passed it. She sighed, continuing down the hallway, her heart feeling slightly lighter with each step.

Hey, everything else was going to hell. At least she had something she could control.

"I need to burn something."

Hiro glanced sideways towards Maya, shaking his head. She wasn't looking at him, her dark eyes instead staring straight ahead.

"You don't."

Maya trained her glare to the floor from where she sat with her back to her locker, her arms resting on her knees. Hiro was sitting beside her, one of his earphones in his ear while the other dangled over his hoodie. His drumsticks were in one hand, his free one resting on the floor between them. She snorted, rolling her eyes and looking away.

"What do you know?"

Hiro snorted as well, shaking his head again.

"I know that playing with fire's not the way to solve your problems."

Maya blinked at him, her eyebrows arching. Her hair that was always in a ponytail or some half assed bun was out, parted so that it fell over the side of her face and hid her bat induced bruise from view. He stared back, watching as her gaze slowly traveled down to his sleeves. Her eyes narrowed as they flickered back up to his face.

"You sure you can tell me how to solve my problems?"

Of every single person in the universe she was the only one who knew his secret, and she was the last person he'd wanted to know.

The first time Maya had noticed his arms they'd been fifteen and she'd snuck over his house when she was supposed to be grounded. It was summer, it was late, and she'd arrived unannounced, completely unplanned. It was the only reason that when she climbed into his window he wasn't wearing sleeves like he usually did, and being that she was a stickler for details it was the first thing she saw. Her eyes had widened to the size of his fists.

"What the hell is that?" she'd hissed, the fact that his parents would kill him if they knew he had a girl in his room at midnight keeping her from shouting. He'd started to look for a sweatshirt but then she was marching over, knocking his arms apart and holding them both with her hands, palms up, so that she could stare at the scars layered over his pale skin, the light from the ceiling making them stand out even more prominent. She'd dropped his right arm, holding his left one still and brushing her fingers over the cuts. She'd stared up at him, and for a moment he was so sure that she was going to scream the house down that he was already trying to think of excuses to tell his parents for why she was there.

But then…for the first and only time in the history of their friendship, her eyes started glistening, and he'd stared in horror as Maya Johansen, the angry, strong girl of Woodcrest, burst into tears.

It was possibly the worst reaction of them all. Her anger was expected, practically warranted. But the fact that she was crying and that he of all people had caused it was probably what made it so bad, what made him feel so guilty that he was swearing he'd stop, that he'd never do it again. Maya was like his little sister, even though she always grudgingly pointed out that she was exactly three weeks older than him, her birthday coming in mid July and his in the beginning of August. She was tough no doubt, and she could be mean. But he always saw past it. He always knew that there was more to her, just like she knew that there was more to him. The only problem was even though they both knew so much about each other, it was just that much more that they didn't know.

His eyes narrowed. She shook her head, unzipping her backpack that was sitting in front of her and rummaging inside. He stared at her as she pulled her hand out again, slapping something into his palm.

"Next time you should consider not leaving your evidence. And don't say it's Kat's because she ain't stupid, much as I hate to admit it," she added. "And don't you dare say it might be mine because I'm even less stupid."

Hiro stared down at the object he was now holding, quickly looking back up at Maya's face. She was glaring at him with such intensity that he swallowed, averting his eyes.

"I thought you stopped, Hiro."

"I did."

"Then what, you thought the damn Swiss army knife was so cute you'd carry it with you in the shower?" Maya shook her head, giving him an exasperated look. "You said you quit."

She said it as if he were trying to cut cigarettes.

"And you said you weren't going to burn shit up whenever you got down, but you do it anyway." He lifted his chin. Both he and Maya had self destructive personalities, a fact that she'd pointed out one afternoon when she was reading some psychology journal in his backyard. They both had a problem with knowing that the paths they chose were the wrong ones yet opting to take the same route nonetheless. They knew how to make their own flaws seem justified and they were both wrong for it, but it didn't stop them from doing it. She shook her head, staring straight ahead.

"It's not the same, Hiro."

"It's not all that different-"

"It's completelydifferent!" she snapped, her eyes cutting towards him again. He flinched. "It's different and you know it."

"No, because I can't get arrested off it," he shot back, watching her eyes cool. "But you can get arrested. It's called arson."

"But it doesn't matter." Her voice was dry, sarcastic. "Because you're through doing it, right?"

Hiro blinked, forcing himself to shrug.

"I said I was, didn't I?"

She stared at him, her eyes searching his face. She was good at dissecting lies from the truth, so it was only a matter of time before he was exposed for the liar that he was. She shook her head.

"Let me see your arm."

Hiro gave her a dirty look, casting a glance towards the moderately crowded hallway. "Could you be any louder-"

"If there's nothing to hide then it shouldn't matter," she argued, her voice considerably softer than before. "Hiro, just let me see."

"I ain't gotta show you anything."

Maya shook her head, resting the back of her head against the locker and closing her eyes.

"Are you kidding me?" She let out a laugh of disbelief, turning her head to stare at him again. "Hiro, are you fucking kidding?" He didn't say anything and she ran her hand over her face. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

He glared at her, his own dark hair falling into his eyes.

"No."

She stared at him again, her expression wary. He stared back, trying to keep his own face calm, trying to be as unreadable as she always was. After a few moments she sat up straighter, shaking her head.

"You have to stop."

He gave her a look. She looked back, her mouth set in a thin line. He rolled his eyes.

"I said I wasn't-"

"I'm not stupid, Hiro!" she suddenly yelled, causing a good dozen people's heads to whip their way. Hiro cast her an evil look and she sighed, her shoulders slumping and her voice falling. "I mean you've been wearing all those stupid sweatshirts and you've been so off…ugh." She smacked a hand against her forehead. "I was so stupid."

That was what he hated; how she just took it upon herself to take the blame from his actions and place them on herself. As opposed to getting mad at him for even doing it she'd beat herself up for not noticing, as if it was her fault. As if he was her responsibility.

"My, come on-"

"No, you come on," she retorted hotly, scooting closer. "Hiro, look-"

"You gotta pencil?" a boy suddenly asked, stopping in front of Maya. She rolled her eyes.

"Get the fuck outta here, Gary!"

The boy held up his hands, backing away and muttering a quick "bitch" before turning around, disappearing around the corner. Maya looked back to Hiro, her eyes narrowed.

"I am one hundred percent, completely against snitching," she said in a low voice, her eyes serious. "But I'm against losing my best friend even more." He stared back. "If you don't cut it out yourself, I'm gonna find someone who will make you stop."

He felt panic surge inside his veins, followed by an irrational wave of anger. He pushed himself to his feet, glaring down at her.

"That's reallynice," he snapped; her eyebrows lifted. "And you expect me to keep quiet about your little fire obsession?"

She stood up as well, her own voice hard.

"Listen here, buddy." She poked a finger in his chest, drawing herself to her full height. "I'm not going to let your half ass threats keep me from doing what I have to do to make sure you don't hurt yourself. You know, since I guess you can't be trusted to take care of yourself-"

"Are you serious?" The bell for first period rang and all around them people started running to their classes but both of them stood rooted to the spot, their focus on nothing else but the person in front of them. "Me not taking care of myself? I'm not the one getting hit in the head with bats-"

"But I didn't hit myself, did I?" she nearly yelled; at that point neither one of them were watching their tones. "I'm not the one slitting my own damn wrists-"

"No, you're just setting entire buildings on fire!" Hiro shouted, throwing up his hands. She glared at him. "Look. Your…habit, is probably the only thing keeping you as sane as you are." She folded her arms over her chest. "Don't take away mine."

She stared at him, skepticism falling over her features. He stared back, standing his ground. She finally shook her head, looking torn.

"If something was to happen to you and I could've stopped it, I'd never forgive myself." She sighed. "Hiro, I haveto tell someone. It's not healthy. I can't not do anything."

Hiro nearly gaped at her. Above their heads the bell went off again, signaling that anyone who wasn't in class was tardy. He didn't care. What he did care about was the fact that the person he trusted the most was now the only person he just wanted to get away from.

That was another flaw of their friendship; for him, Maya was nicer. She was more considerate. She was the person that people were always telling her she should be.

And, if it came to that point, it was as if all her negative traits would transfer over to him. He was the only person who received her niceness and she was the only one who got his anger, his bitterness. It rarely happened, but when it did it was enough to do damage.

"I don't understand why you think you're just so much more together than I am," he snapped, watching her eyes narrow. "I don't destroy property with what I do. I don't put other people's lives at risk, which you have no problem with doing." When she didn't say anything he shrugged, shaking his head. "I'm not hurting anyone else but myself. You impact complete stranger's lives. But you're the healthy one?"

Maya lifted her chin, giving him a look.

"I never said I was." She let her hands drop to her sides, snorting. "And if you really think you're the only person you hurt when doing what you do, then you seriously have some issues."

Hiro took a step back from her, giving her a cold look.

"I hate you."

He spun around, storming down the hallway and never looking back.

"I," Dory said aloud, fanning herself with her hand, "cannot stand summertime."

Jazmine glanced up at her, her elbows on her knees. Summer was her favorite season, but right about then she was over the humidity that always made her hair a mess, the stupid beaming sun that made her sweat, and the fact that since it was nice out they were forced to go outside, play sports, and get graded for it. Geez.

They were in gym, the only class she and Dory had together that wasn't lunch, and their teacher had insisted that they pair up with another P.E. class for a "good, old fashioned game of baseball". Her ass. She liked sports about as much as she liked bullies. It was why she and Dory, along with a good majority of their P.E. class, were sitting on the bleachers behind the home plate of the baseball diamond, the sun beaming down on them and the teacher's whistle only threatening to irritate her more. She watched Dory peer down at her, squinting in the sunlight.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, she and Dory had become friends.

"Something's bothering you."

Jazmine looked up again, snorting.

"Everything's bothering me."

"Alright class, listen up!" Their teacher, a short woman with a high ponytail and a serious obsession with whistles, strut in front of the bleachers and put the hand holding a clipboard on her hip. She used the other hand to pick up her whistle from where it was hanging around her neck, blowing into it so that a sharp, piercing sound came out and made everyone groan. Never mind that they'd already been paying attention. "The other class should be on their way out her. They're taking the field first and we're batting." She ignored the series of moans that rose, waving her hand. "Now, I know some of you are going to try and hide at the back of the line, so I'm gonna go ahead and call you all to go up to the plate in alphabetical order. Got it?"

It was times like those where Jazmine really hated that her last name started with the fourth letter of the alphabet. Dory sighed, shaking her head.

"Chandler." Her voice was like the rest of her; at ease, relaxed. She didn't seem like she got worked up over much. "Why couldn't my last name have involved a Z as the first letter? Zuckerman? Zipperman? Zimmermann?"

"Because life would be way too easy that way," Jazmine snorted, rolling her eyes. Dory appraised her with a look. She was a lot smarter than Jazmine had originally thought, and a lot more observant.

"You look seriously pissed off." She let out a low whistle, her blonde ponytail bobbing behind her. "I didn't even know you were the type to get that mad. You look like you need to get laid. Seriously."

"That's always good to know." The other class had gotten there, the students all filing on to the field. She didn't pay them any attention. Dory smirked.

"Well, have you?" When Jazmine gave her a confused look she shrugged. "You ever, you know…done it?"

How the hell had they gotten on that subject?

Jazmine's eyes narrowed. "Is that any of your business?"

Dory shrugged. Jazmine's newfound attitude didn't bother her; if anything, it got her even more interested.

"It's not," she answered honestly as their teacher stepped forward, glancing down at her clipboard. "But you can still feel free to share."

"Christopher Ames!"

"Man, this sucks," a dark haired boy in front of them grumbled, pushing himself to his feet and trudging forward. Dory examined her nails, her gaze flickering towards the mulatto as he took the bat the teacher held out to him, looking annoyed.

"So." Dory smirked. "Have you?"

Jazmine stared at her, examining her face. After a few seconds she shrugged, staring down at her feet.

"Yeah." Dory didn't even bat an eyelash. "I have."

Dory nodded, turning towards the field again.

"It's a great stress reliever," she stated matter-of-factly, watching the game. Jazmine couldn't help but roll her eyes. What a weird ass conversation.

"Dorian Chandler!" their teacher suddenly called, making Dory sigh and roll her own hazel eyes as she stood to her feet, climbing down the bleachers. Even in their gym uniform she managed to make a fashion statement; she'd tied her shirt into a knot in the back, exposing her flat stomach, the sleeves of the white t shirt cut into even rectangular pieces that she'd strung some beads on. Her black shorts looked a bit…shorter than they were supposed to, and even though Jazmine usually thought girls who did stuff like that were nothing more than attention wanting airheads…Dory was different. Dory had something about her that made her stand out from other girls, that made even the most extreme of things she did look normal.

The girl picked the bat up from the dusty ground, stepping up to the plate and sighing again as the guy behind her, a black guy with braids and a smirk, nodded towards the pitcher. Jazmine glanced towards the center of the field…

And nearly had a heart attack.

Huey was standing on the pitcher's mound in his own gym uniform, surveying Dory with an unreadable expression. The girl stared back at him, lifting her chin and holding the bat up, falling into a stance. Jazmine glanced at all the bases. Apparently, due to their vacancies, their first classmate had struck out.

Someone managing to hit anything Huey Freeman pitched would be a miracle. Dory apparently was aware of this since she rolled her eyes at him.

"Can you just throw the ball and get me out already?" she asked, annoyed. Huey lifted an eyebrow, sighing himself and rearing his arm back, obviously not even putting much effort into the throw. Regardless it sailed past Dory's shoulder, even as she swung the bat through the air. He shrugged, smirking.

"Whatever."

"Strike one!" the boy behind Dory yelled, tossing the ball back to Huey.

Oh, damn. Jazmine felt her foul mood only get worse. She was already over school, over stupid gym…and now she'd have to get embarrassed because she couldn't hit a stupid ball? Not to mention she'd feel so awkward, failing to hit a ball her ex boyfriend pitched.

Even if no one else knew that he washer ex boyfriend.

Even if she had been the one to break up with him.

Huey pitched another ball and Dory swung, once again missing. The boy standing behind her grinned, holding up two fingers.

"Strike two!"

"Good thing I can count, ass hat." Dory blew a strand of hair out her eyes. The rest of their class sat up, no doubt rooting for her to hit the final pitch. Jazmine sat up herself, doing the exact opposite and hoping that she could strike out so that the girl in front of her, Anna Davidson, could go ahead and strike out as well and they could switch. Then she could just go stand in the outfield, sulk, and not have to deal with him.

Then again why would he care about pitching a ball to her anyway? He was probably glad to be rid of her.

Huey lightly tossed the baseball in the air before bringing his arm back again, once again throwing the ball towards her. Dory swung again, the ball flying right into the umpire's gloved hand.

"Strike three!" He waggled his fingers towards Dory, who tossed down the bat like it was nothing and shrugged. He winked up at her. "Call me?"

"Pssh." She pat his head in a sympathetic way before walking back to the bleachers. "Not."

Jazmine shook her head, easing into her spot. Good. All Anna had to do was strike out, which would definitely happen, even if Huey was going easy on them. Dory flopped down beside her, yawning.

"What's the point of gym again?"

"To suffer." Jazmine glanced towards their teacher as she looked at her clipboard, pausing before calling out the next name.

"Jazmine Dubois!"

"What?" Jazmine nearly shouted, her heart stopping; the teacher lifted her head. "What about Anna?"

"Anna ain't here today and even if she was I called you, not her. So get your butt up there!" she shouted, blowing her whistle. Jazmine covered her ears, rising to her feet and glaring at the lady while stomping towards home plate.

"Alright, already." She rolled her eyes, her head still ringing from the high pitched sound. "Geez." She slowly crouched down, picking up the metal bat and tapping it twice against the plate for good measure, straightening and lifting her head. She glanced at Huey, who was staring at her with the same indifferent expression he'd given Dory. She sighed, relieved.

At least he didn't give enough of a damn to make this worse for her-

SLAM!

"Holy shit!" the boy acting as the umpire yelled, jumping back; Jazmine whirled around to stare at the wooden fence behind them. The other students sitting on the bleachers rose as well, gaping at the large hole that was now in the wood with wide eyes. Both teachers turned towards Huey, who was standing there as if it were completely normal to throw a ball so hard it broke through a fence. The hole was even smoking.

"Strike…one," the boy behind the mulatto managed weakly. Jazmine's eyes widened.

She hadn't even seen him throw that! Her teacher blew her whistle again, making her jump; Huey glanced at her.

"Feel free not to break school property while pitching, Mr. Freeman!" she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth. He nodded, turning back towards Jazmine, tossing a new baseball in the air and staring at her. His eyes hardened. She felt her own eyes grow large, and then they were narrowing as well.

He wanted to be petty about this? Well, fine. She fell into her batting position, gripping the baseball bat with sweaty palms. Huey lifted his leg, bringing his right hand back and hurling the ball so quickly that it was barely a blur before it was zooming past her again, the force sending a blast of air knocking into her as once again the ball collided with the fence, the sounds of wood splitting making everyone cringe. Huey's P.E. teacher gave him an exasperated look as splinters of wood clattered to the ground.

"Mr. Freeman!" her own teacher yelled again, throwing down her clipboard. Huey rolled his eyes.

"My bad!" he shouted, not sounding the least bit sorry.

Jazmine turned towards him, feeling her temper kick into high gear. She did not need this right now. She realized he was mad at her and he had the right to be, but it wasn't her problem. And she wasn't going to make it her problem.

What she was going to do, however, was hit that damn ball so that she could wipe that cocky smirk off his stupid face.

She got into position again, her eyes narrowed in concentration and her ponytail falling over her shoulder. She glared right at him, staring into his wine colored eyes with such intensity she felt as if it had just turned fifty degrees hotter outside. He glared back, not bothering to hide the anger that nearly burned in the depths of his irises. She took a deep breath, focusing all that anger, all those pent up feelings, all her energy on the ball, on that one ball…

'I hate the way things are.'

She watched him bring his arm back, loosening her arms but gripping the bat tighter. Her eyes never left his.

'I hate that we never had a chance.'

Huey was no doubt doing some different pitch that he had with the others; there was no way he was going easy on her. And in a way she didn't want him to. No, no one had ever bothered going easy on her before, so why should they start then? He brought his foot back, preparing to swing…

'I hate that you think you know me.'

She watched his arm swing forward, the ball shooting from his hand as if being launched from a cannon. Her eyes hardened.

'I'll prove you wrong.'

The ball was flying so quickly towards her that it was practically smoking. Instead of cautiously waiting she stepped forward to meet it head on, her expression turning into one of anger.

'I'll prove everyone wrong.'

She swung the bat with every ounce of strength she had, the sound of metal colliding with the baseball so loud it seemed to echo through the entire field. A few of her classmates stood up, a series of "Ooooh!" ringing through them all as the ball made a high arch, soaring over their heads and sailing towards the outfield. Jazmine dropped the bat, lifting her chin and giving Huey, who was staring at her in surprise, a smirk.

And then she took off, running to first base for all she was worth.

"Go Jazmine go Jazmine GO!" a good majority of her classmates were chanting, cheering as she passed over first base, heading for second. She could still see a group of people running for the ball, which had finally hit the ground, as her left sneaker pounded against the second base, the cheering growing louder as she raced for third.

"Got it!" she heard someone shout; in the corner of her eye she saw Huey turning towards the guys, his hands outstretched so that he could get the ball from them.

"Hurry up!" he yelled, sounding annoyed asshe quickly hit third, running for home.

"OH MY GOD YOU BETTA RUN, BITCH!" Dory shouted, jumping up and down; it was the most enthusiasm Jazmine had seen out of her since she'd started talking to her. She saw Huey leaping up to catch the ball, whipping around to throw it towards the umpire. She saw it flying towards her.

And then she was leaping into the air, landing hard against the dirt and sliding to the base, causing a cloud of smoke to rise…

"SAFE!" the umpire yelled, causing everyone in her class to start cheering; Jazmine lifted her head to see her fingers sprawled across the gritty surface of the final base, a grin spreading across her face. She pushed herself to her feet, dusting herself off and giving her classmates a thumbs up. Dory was shaking her head, smirking. Jazmine took a deep breath as she started back towards the bleachers, giving Huey a look over her shoulder.

He was staring at her again, his eyes still narrowed. She felt her fist clench, her jaw tightening and her eyes doing the same.

'I don't need you.'

Huey wanted to make this worse than it had to be? Huey wanted a war? She shook her head, turning away and walking back to the bleachers, flopping down beside Dory.

'I don't need anyone.'

If a war was what he wanted, a war was what he'd get.

Sometimes, Riley thought about being an astronaut.

He'd never admit that shit, of course. The chances of that happening were slimmer than the chances of him winding up on the honor roll. Besides, people had to have perfect grades in math and science or go to school for engineering or some mess…he ain't have time for all that.

There were other times he thought about being an artist, but almost all of them were poor and if there was anything he didn't want to be, it was poor. One time when he and Huey were getting along he'd heard his older brother mention something about going to school for graphic designing to excel in it, but Huey was the one who didn't know shit about art so he didn't take his ideas too seriously.

He found himself wondering about his future more often, though. He'd sit in class and doze off, wondering when the day would come where he'd be seen as more than some lost cause, or if the day would ever come. Grandad was always telling him that he needed to get serious so that maybe people would take him seriously. What he didn't understand was that reputations preceded people, and his was no exception. His teachers judged him before he even opened his mouth. Most his friends were only "friends" because they were afraid of him. If he told Grandad all that it was seen as making excuses. If he informed Huey of his problems he was told that if he hated it so much to change it.

Easy for him to say.

"Freeman!" The loud yell jerked him to attention, causing him to spin around as his boss, a stern faced woman named Angela, stomped in. She had her hands on her hips and her typical no-nonsense face on, causing him to sigh and roll his eyes.

"Don't give me that crap," she snapped, shaking her head. "I pay you to wash dishes, not stand around and daydream." When he merely blinked at her in response she sucked her teeth, shrugging and waving her hand. "Whatever. Look, I know you're sick of being the only dishwasher back here and you probably feel like you're dying by the end of your shift-"

"I feel like I'm dyin' before mah shift-"

"Boy, hush!" Angela snapped her fingers shut, making him roll his eyes again. "Well, I got sick of your whining, so I hired someone else." She turned towards the swinging double doors, tapping her foot. "Sometime today, Hawaii!"

There was an exasperated sigh, followed by an Asian girl that Riley recognized from the first day of school ambling in, looking as if she'd rather be anywhere else in the world. Angela nodded, satisfied, and gave Riley a look.

"Riley, meet Hayley. Hayley, Riley. You'll be working together." She rolled her eyes. "Happy, Freeman?"

He shrugged, staring at the girl, who merely shrugged back. He turned towards Angela, smirking.

"Well, I'd be hella happy if I gotta raise-"

"Boy, get to working!" Angela barked, dismissing his comment with a wave of her hand as she stalked back out the doors. Hayley turned away from the door, giving Riley a bored look. His nose wrinkled.

"Why tha hell would you wanna work here?"

"Well, I didn't." Hayley shrugged, sticking her hands in her pockets. "I came in, asked her if she knew anywhere around here that was hiring because I just moved here and needed a job, and she told me I was hired." She snorted. "I decided not to ask questions and just go along with it."

Riley snorted. That sounded exactly like the boss of the restaurant he worked for; a complete nutcase. Hayley shrugged again, straightening.

"She told me you'd train me…?"

"Sooo you don' kno' how ta wash a dish?" Riley asked sarcastically. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

"No, apparently I just know how to get accosted by smartasses." He glared at her and she walked around the kitchen, inspecting it. "Do you always work back here by yourself? I mean, the rest of the kitchen staff's in the other part-"

"Cuz if she woulda made me stay up there wit' dem niggas, I woulda killed them." He said it so matter-of-factly that her eyebrows rose. "How come she put chu back here?"

Hayley shrugged. Riley was beginning to notice she did that a lot.

"She just told me she had someone bitching for help."

"Man, her lyin' ass!" he grumbled. "Don' nobody be complainin' 'cept her dumbass."

He watched Hayley smirk and pick up an apron off the top of one of the dishwashers, tying it around her waist.

"I can believe that." She blew a strand of hair out her face, siding up to him and staring past him to glance at the filled sinks. "No wonder you need help." She shook her head, searching for a pair of gloves. "What made you want to work at a hot wing place?"

"Cuz I thought I could get free wings."

She smirked. "Is it worth it?"

He sucked his teeth. "No. They be runnin' out an they be cold by tha time I get to 'em if they got any left."

"Huh." Hayley stuck her hands in the soapy dishwater in the sink beside the one he was at. "You'd think a minimum wage job would at least give you hot chicken wings."

"Hell yea…wait, wuz you bein' sarcastic?"

She smirked again. "Maybe."

Riley rolled his eyes. He was around too many sarcastic bitches.

"Are you a junior, too?" Hayley asked, rinsing off a plate. She was obviously trying to make conversation. Riley shook his head.

"Sophomore."

"Ah." She nodded. "And you got a brother that's a senior, right?"

It always somehow circled back around to Huey, regardless the topic. TV, B.E.T., Muppet Babies. He shrugged, trying to, for once in his life, keep his attitude in check. Won't Hawaii's fault that she didn't know any better.

Besides, it could be worse. She could be like other smartasses who thought it was cute to call him "little Freeman".

Gah.

"Yea." He started back to washing dishes as well, staring down into the sudsy water. "Why?"

"Just wondering." She was working on a pan now. "You two seem pretty different."

And here they went. "Yea," Riley repeated. She glanced over at him.

"You don't seem too happy about that."

Damn, did he come to work or an interrogation?

"Naw, man." He rinsed off a glass, nearly tossing it onto a drying rack. He didn't even bother trying to keep the hostility out his voice. "Cause I be havin' ta hear dat "he betta than you" shit all tha damn time."

She stopped, glancing at him again.

"I didn't say he was better than you. I said you were different." He stopped to stare at the girl as well. "Just because he's different from you, it doesn't make him better. Or vice versa." She continued to scrub at the pan, making a face. "When it really comes down to it we're all the same anyway, right?"

He blinked at her. "…Wat da hell is you blabbin' about?"

"Oh, joy." Hayley's voice was dry. "This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Riley could tell she was being sarcastic, but he felt himself smirking regardless.

"Yup."

Hayley looked at him, pausing. And then, she was smiling too.

"Finally." When he gave her a puzzled look she sighed. "Someone who's not so black and white." His eyebrow lifted. "You'd be surprised how easy it is to read people around here."

He couldn't help but feel surprised. "An you think I'm like the rest of 'em?"

"No." She shook her head, her expression serious. "I don't."

He stared at her. She stared back. For a long moment there was silence.

Then…

"So, they got good tree down in Hawaii?"

To his surprise Hayley burst out laughing, shaking her head and going back to the dishes.

"Different." She continued snorting as Riley shook his own head, reluctantly resuming his work as well. "Definitely different."

Everyone's so pissed...

Anywho, thanks for reading! Now, do the other thing!

...No, not THAT thing! Not that thing, either!

...DEFINITELY not that thing.

Seriously, review! Because you want to. You know you do. :)

-Kelsey