"So the school is throwing a Renaissance Faire?" Finn wondered to his friends at the lunch table. The news had been delivered just before lunch.

"Yeah. Doesn't it sound stupid?" Jamie stated. Finn agreed. He had never been to one of those before, but it involved wearing those dreadful outfits in a time where people didn't bathe very often. What could be so fascinating about that, aside from the primal, visceral pleasure of eating meat on a bone?

"I vote we pass on that and go do something fun. Shooting range, anyone?" Finn offered. All of the guys high-fived.

"Didn't Ms. Li say something about people getting suspended if they don't volunteer or come?" Jeffy noted with a nervous look. Finn sighed as his buddy brought him back into reality. Ms. Li held the threat of suspension above pretty much every student when it came to Lawndale's fund-raisers, and, if Jake's rants were to be believed, the school taxes were just as deadly to the parents.

"I guess we could show up and leave. What fun could it be?" Finn stated.

"If we're spending ten bucks to show up, we should at least see what it's about." Joey stated. "If I just wanted to throw ten bucks away, I'd give it to my stepdad."

"Well, yeah. I suppose you're right." Finn sighed. And he was looking forward to an actually enjoyable weekend. Ever since Finn had gotten back from his night at Jane's, he found himself wondering whether or not he should help Mr. O'Neill out with talking to the boys in the self-esteem class. Because of some scheduling disagreement with the female counselor, the class was pushed back a week, so Finn, if he accepted, would have more time to prepare. But Finn had absolutely no idea what to talk about. He never had a problem with self-esteem, and he always knew he looked and felt good, even after a grueling practice in the rain, where he was covered in sweat and mud so thick, it took almost an hour to get clean.

But Finn knew that, somehow, he needed to get better at speaking. Ever since Finn saw Stacy run away in tears at Mack's barbecue, and how she reacted to his compliment, Finn realized that if he wanted to get anything done in regards to Stacy, he needed to change his tactics.

"I suppose it does support the notion that Stacy's not like other girls." Finn thought to himself. His sweet words were good for getting girls like Tanya Crawford or Sandi to get the gifts. And it was cheap too, to speak sweet nothings. But they didn't work on Stacy. At least, they didn't produce the desired effect.

It was strange, to think of it. Finn would normally not have paid a girl like Stacy a second thought. She got him some nice gifts, but when compared to the other girls, Stacy fell short. And her insecurities were definitely not attractive. But when the girl was sad; Finn actually felt bad, and, to his surprise, he didn't consider it a bad thing.

"She always has a kind word, even if she bungles saying things. And not just to me, to everyone else. She even compliments Sandi. She's an idiot, that much is true. But...she's a nice idiot. And when I'm around her, it really feels like she cares. Like I could screw up and say something stupid and she wouldn't care. Not like other girls. Not like Mom." Finn thought as he took his empty tray up to the garbage cans.

Almost as if responding to his thoughts, Stacy started walking up to him. She was gushing, almost like Erin did at her wedding.

"Hi, Finn!" She smiled.

"You're in a good mood." Finn commented.

"Well, Bret Strand just asked me out!" Stacy cheered. Finn knew who that was. Bret Strand was a member of the soccer team, in the same grade as Finn himself. Finn had never spoken to him before, but the soccer team tended to be a bit full of themselves, just like the basketball team, and thought they were the most important school team in Lawndale.

"Idiots. Everyone knows it's football that brings the most trophies." Finn thought to himself.

"We're going out this Thursday, the day before that Renaissance Faire." Stacy informed.

"That's great, Stacy." Finn stated. "What are you going to wear?"

"I'm going to wear my crushed velvet violet tank top." Stacy answered.

"Wow, big guns." Finn complimented.

"Oh, what should I talk about?" Stacy fussed. "This has to go well, it just does."

"I'm sure it will, Stacy, I'm sure it will. Just take a deep breath, ask some questions about him, tell a funny story or two. Don't get nervous, and you'll be fine." Finn tried to calm her down.

"Don't get nervous....don't get nervous....ahhh!" Stacy started hyperventilating again.

"Oh, goddammit!" Finn thought. It just couldn't be that simple, could it?

Mr. O'Neill was holding tryouts for some sort of play that was supposed to happen during the Faire. Finn had no interest in trying out, but it appeared as though Kevin and Brittany were taking an interest, along with Sandi.

Finn had no desire to stay and watch, but he needed to pull aside the teacher. However, he was too busy talking to the students to notice. It wasn't until tryouts ended that Mr. O'Neill finally noticed Finn.

"Oh, Finn, did you want to try out for the play?"

"No." Finn stated. "Why would I want to be Palominey, or whoever he was." Finn stated. "I just...I wanted to say I've been thinking about that self-esteem course you wanted me to help with."

"Oh, will you do it?" Mr. O'Neill asked eager, his eyes sparkled with an enthusiasm Finn often saw in the teacher's eyes.

"Well, I think I could. It's just...I've never done stuff like this before."

"You don't have to make, like a speech or anything. We'll have an informal...err...rap session. I think that's how the kids say it." Mr. O'Neill stated.

"Errr...I mean, well, I'm not exactly the best when it comes to...errr...puberty issues. I've only started that recently."

"Well, that's part of why I wanted to ask you. I know it might be hard to believe, but I was a teenager once and I went through the same changes."

"I'm fourteen, not four. I know people grow up." Finn thought.

"Anyway, they probably could talk to you better than me. You can explain things through their eyes, and tell them there's nothing to be ashamed about."

"Who would be ashamed of puberty? It just happens." Finn stated.

"Well, perhaps I can explain it another way. Many of the kids in this class feel like failures. They see the magazines of those really buff actors with ripped muscles and handsome faces and boasting about...errr..." The teacher stuttered.

"Virility." Finn finished. Mr. O'Neill shuddered a bit at that word.

"They see these things and think themselves inadequate. They feel like failures. Now, I don't think you've ever had that problem, Finn, but if someone like you, who has all those features, tells them not to feel bad, that should help make them not feel less of a man."

"Errr...correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that just telling them that the buff guys are just taking pity on them?" Finn asked. Mr. O'Neill hesitated.

"Well...umm...I'm sure you'll considered that when you deliver your rousing lecture. I'll see you in class." Mr. O'Neill wandered back into the school, and Finn started thinking he had just made a huge mistake.

Back at home, Finn sat at the kitchen table with a piece of paper and a pencil, trying to jot down any ideas he had about the lecture. Aside from writing "self-esteem" at the top of the page, Finn had nothing written down. He stared at the mostly blank page for an entire hour.

All Finn could think about when he stared at the page was his mother. This lecture was supposed to be about body image and such, but Finn couldn't get the word "failure" out of his head. It made the most sense to him: People had low self-esteem if they felt like failures. But as soon as Finn thought about that, his mother flashed into his mind. She was the only person, aside from Daria, who told Finn he wasn't good enough. He never got good enough grades, he wasn't respectful to women, and the list went on.

"Finn?" A voice snapped him from his thoughts. Finn looked up to see his mother come in. When did she get back?

"Hi." Finn stated before looking back at the page. If he looked busy, he could get away with not talking to her.

"What are you doing?" Finn asked.

"Just an assignment." Finn did not look up from the page. Helen took a seat at the table.

"Self-esteem?" Helen read the words on the page.

"I'm helping out Mr. O'Neill in that self-esteem class he teaches. I'm getting three whole points extra credit." Finn tacked on the last lie. He couldn't tell his mother the real reason: that he needed to figure out how to inspire people, so that he could use it properly on Stacy.

"Well, that sounds lovely." Helen replied, insincerely as always. "You don't have a lot written down."

"Well, I've never done it before." Finn stated. He started tapping his pencil on the page again.

"Who are the people in your class?'

"I'm guest speaking. I've never seen them before today."

"Oh. Well, Finn, I'm willing to bet that a lot of students are there because they can't conform to rigid standards that society sets."

"Well, the lecture is supposed to be on body image."

"Perfect!" Helen eagerly joined in. "That's a great place to start. Tell the class that there is no such thing as the perfect weight. A girl doesn't need to be a stick just so the boys will like her."

"Err...Mom, the class is all..." Finn started, but Helen kept going.

"And while you're at it, say there is no such thing as a perfect hair color or eye color. The last thing those girls need to spend money on is a pair of contacts to make their eyes green just to get a date with the quarterback. How useless can things be?"

"Mom, there aren't any girls..." Finn's protests were drowned out.

"The standards imposed upon women are downright ludicrous, and you, Finn, being a man, are the perfect person to look those girls in the eye and tell them it doesn't matter what they look like on the outside. The woman within is what is really important."

Finn was about to point out the fact his mother overlooked: That the class was separated into boys and girls. But instead, Finn found himself getting angrier when he saw his mother's proud face.

"Yeah, because it's all some brutal misogynistic conspiracy." Finn mocked his mother. She looked at him strangely.

"Mom, you didn't even listen when I tried to say this is a class that's all boys. We're supposed to talk about the problems facing teenage boys. But apparently, that's not important, is it, Mom. Because it's all about the girls, oh, look, the poor little girls. They need all the help and all the encouragement. I guess I could talk about how I struggled with anorexia because I was so worried about being fat, but no, boys don't have that problem. No boy's problems are important: they cause the problems. God, I thought I left school to get away from people like Ms. Barch. Geez, Mom, forget I even asked!" And Finn stood up so fast his chair fell to the floor. Finn didn't even bother to pick it up as he stormed out the room and out the front door.

Helen sat in stunned silence for a moment as she stared at the entrance to the living room where Finn stormed out. Helen didn't see what the problem was at first. Helen knew she had rushed to judgment on the self-esteem class, and the things she had told him wouldn't be of much help. But that hostile reaction, although not foreign, was troubling. Now Finn thought she was like that man-hating science teacher of his.

"Nicely done, Morgendorffer." Helen chided. "You really know how to make Finn feel special, don't you. Go ahead and make Daria hate you now; you've got time before dinner."

Just as Finn expected, there wasn't much to the Reinaissance Faire worth writing home about. The food smelled awful, the entertainment was nothing more than the usual carnival games, and the costumes were completely garish.

"I'd rather pay the ten buck entry fee as a guest than wear that crap as a volunteer for free." Finn thought to himself. He met his buddies at the fairground and they decided to fritter away the time with a few games. While the dunking booth was pleasant, Jeffy tried to prove he had the bast fastball of everyone, and nearly ended up hitting the teacher.

"Wow. That mom of yours, Jeffy. Must suck. I feel you." Finn thought. Mothers could be so sucky sometimes.

The most surprising aspect of the entire fair was what Mr. DeMartino had planned. Dressed in full black body armor, he was holding a joust. Finn couldn't think of a more appropriate sport for the teacher. He seemed to be having fun ramming the students and knocking them down. Finn and his buddies gave a go at the event, and all four of them lost to the rampaging teacher.

"Still, was fun to give it a shot." Finn thought to himself. He wondered if there was anything else left to do at the event. Finn saw his mother at the archery event and decided against trying it, and he had absolutely no desire to see Mr. O'Neill's play.

"I wanna give Mr. D another shot." Joey stated.

"Yeah, I'm not letting that guy beat me!" Jeffy agreed. Finn chuckled, and declined to join them. He was hungry, and just getting pummelled didn't have much appeal.

"Finn. Over here!" A familiar voice called out to him. Finn turned his head towards a cake stall to see Tiffany manning the booth.

"Oh, hello, Tiffany. You're working the booth by yourself?"

"Sandi...went to the bathroom." The girl answered in a slow monotone.

"Is Stacy with you?"

"No." Tiffany delivered flatly.

"Wonder where she went."

"We don't...need her. We could just talk ourselves." Tiffany stated.

"Didn't I try this with you when we went to the Mall of the Millenium. I think I still regret not leaving you at the mall when we left." Finn thought. Rather then talk, he selected a few of the cakes. At least then he could blame his silence on not talking with his mouth full.

Finn excused himself shortly after making his purchase, and wandered the grounds for a bit while munching. In the back of his mind, he still had the self-esteem lecture in his head. He had formed a few ideas after he yelled at his mother. He wanted to avoid the idea of patronizing or shaming language, and rather, just discuss other things that were important. Standing up for beliefs, sticking to your guns, things like that. Things Finn did all the time.

"And avoiding people who make a living putting you down." Finn thought. He remembered how Stacy reacted with Sandi, and made sure, once all the names were dropped, to use that as an example. Finn was quite certain Stacy had absolutely no confidence at all, and Sandi was the one who had a hand in that. Once Finn could convince her to step away from Sandi, the rest was a lot easier.

Not only Sandi, but Finn also planned on using his mother. Kids were close to their parents, and there were other parents out there like Helen's: That was hammered into Finn's head when he stayed over at his buddies's, and saw first hand how much it ruined their lives. Each of his three friends had their faults, like any other, but Finn could see just how it was the parents who shaped this undesirable trait, and Finn wanted to make sure that, it didn't matter if it was an adult or not, they had to be confident making their own decisions.

"You can't blame me for being born, Mom. Or for not being like Daria. Or for what's between my legs, or anything." Finn recited quietly to himself.

Finn found himself by the Ferris wheel, where he heard the sounds of wailing.

"I know that cry." Finn thought. It was Stacy's voice. Sure enough, the ride stopped, and from off of the ride stepped Stacy. She ran away sobbing.

"Alright, who is dead?" Finn thought as he looked to the other passenger in the car. To his surprise, there were two of them: Daria and Jane. He wasted no time coming over to them after they stepped down from the ride.

"What did you do!" Finn demanded.

"I was nowhere near the docks last Tuesday night, and I know nothing about a missing shipment of exotic turtles." Jane replied nonchalantly.

"Jane, this is no time for jokes. What did you do to Stacy?" Finn asked.

"I plead innocent, Officer." Daria was still mocking him.

"So I'm to believe you did nothing to make her cry?"

"She was like that when I found her." Daria elaborated. Finn crossed his arms across his chest. He didn't believe that for a second.

"Ease up there, crusader." Jane returned. "It's true. That girl was wailing when she came onto the ride about some date that went badly."

"Date?" Finn puzzled. "You mean with Bret Strand."

"That was the name. Of course, it was hard to tell with all that wailing. Apparently he never called her back after the date." Jane finished.

"I...see." Finn stated.

"If she acted like that on the date, I couldn't possibly imagine why not." Daria noted. "Well, I think I'm going to find something more intellectually stimulating. There's some fantastic moss growing on a rock nearby. Come watch, Jane."

"Oooooh." Jane mocked enthusiasm as the two departed.

Finn took a deep breath to calm himself down. Bret acted like a jerk to Stacy? Finn didn't know him very well, and it certainly wasn't unheard of.

Before he decided to do anything, however, he needed to hear about it from the man himself. Stacy had mentioned to Finn that he was volunteering here today, and the center knew a few soccer players, so it was easy enough to find the man manning a booth.

"Oh, Finn Morgendorffer. I know you." Bret stated once the two men met.

"Yeah. Can I talk to you for a minute." Finn asked. Bret nodded, and, after a quick discussion, the two men found a quiet spot.

"Listen, you went on a date with Stacy Rowe last night?" Finn asked.

"Yeah, I did. Dude, were you thinking of asking her out or something. Don't do it, dude, totally not worth it."

"I...beg your pardon?" Finn stated.

"Oh yeah, she's hot, no question about that. But damn, she's the most nervous girl I've ever seen."

"Nervous isn't a problem." Finn replied. "That's no reason for a date not to go well."

"Well, she's got all that girly talk too much on the brain, you know. I mean, seriously, what do we guys care about the best moisturizer." Bret chuckled. Finn silently acknowledged that. It was an important thing to him, but that didn't mean other guys cared about that sort of thing.

"That was it, though?" Finn stated.

"Nah, of course not. I mean, a girl can talk about stupid stuff, but the real problem came after that."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, dude. I dropped her off and that was it."

"So? She didn't key your car or anything. I don't see what the problem is."

"Dude, I mean nothing happened. No...late night fun." Bret tried to talk slyly. Finn found himself annoyed.

"On a first date?" Finn stated. "With a girl who's fourteen?"

"I'm fifteen." Bret returned. "Besides, that's what the real fun is after a date. Everyone gets something. She gets fed and a night out, and I get, y'know, my weapon polished. That's the whole point, you know. I mean, you date a lot don't you. You know exactly what I'm talking about. No need to be a prude."

Finn was about to mention that he had never done something like that before because he had class. Sure, he thought about it a few times, but the sheer thought of it, after the initial warm feeling, filled Finn's blood with ice. To be intimate like that was carnal and tasteless, and Bret seemed to encourage that. Further, he was content to use the sweet and kind Stacy just to satisfy his lust.

There was a lot Finn wanted to say to that man, but his brain was no longer functioning correctly. Finn almost felt his body move on it's own accord. His right hand balled into a fist, he chambered his elbow. His body pivoted as he brought his shoulder back. And then, Finn felt his arm move forward, and his elbow locked back straight.

Finn felt his fist collide into Bret's face. The guy went down in one blow. Perhaps he wasn't expecting it, or perhaps Finn was just really angry. Either way, the guy's eyes went wide.

"Bastard." Finn cursed. Bret did not try to reciprocate. Maybe he saw the futility of picking a fight with the school's champion boxer. Finn left before a scene could be drawn.

Once done, it was a simple enough matter to find Stacy. She was still sobbing.

"Hey, Stacy, mind if I join you?" Finn asked. He would wait until he told Stacy that he had avenged her honor. He wanted her to reveal that she was angry with Bret first. It would mean more to her.

"Oh, Finn, it's awful. I went out on my date with Bret, and he didn't call me back!" Stacy moaned.

"Wow, this is too easy." Finn thought.

"Speaking of Bret, I just spoke with him."

"Oh, I didn't know you were friends." Stacy stated.

"We aren't." Finn elaborated. "He mentioned the date, and what he expected out of it, and the reason he didn't call you back is probably because he was expecting a little more...well, late night action."

"You...you heard this from him?" Stacy stated.

"Yeah. And once the bastard starting acting all proud about it, I showed him how to properly treat someone." Finn smiled.

"Huh?"

"I decked him."

"You...you hurt him?" Stacy did not react with pride, but with horror.

"Yeah. I mean, come on, you should have seen the way he..." Finn started.

"You actually hit him! I can't believe it, Finn, why would you do that? Oh, God, you hurt someone for me. I might as well have hit him myself. Oh, God, I can't believe I made you do something so terrible!" Stacy started wailing a fresh set of tears and ran off again.

Finn was stunned, and sat quietly for a moment.

"For the love of God, does nothing work on this girl?"

Finn was too depressed to rejoin his buddies. Instead, he bolted from the fair and went straight home. Once in the safety of his own room, he collapsed on the bed, feeling awful about what had transpired that day.

"I know better than that. I know not to pick fights like that. I'm not an animal." Finn was close to tears himself, and sighed as he stared up at the ceiling.

Hours passed, and Finn did not move. Nor did he sleep. He relived the moment where he punched another guy for some girl, and was humiliated. This was what those catty bitches like Sandi got stupid suckers to do for them; fight because they wanted to feel beautiful. But it wasn't Stacy who started the fight: It started and ended with Finn himself.

"Oh man, who am I to talk about self-esteem to kids now?" Finn thought. "Punch your way through your problems. That will solve everything."

Finn loved to fight, and he was a firm believer that fighting was the truest form of expression. Sometimes, words were clunky and confusing, and when two men put their convictions into their fists and saw who came out on top, that was usually the only way to properly express a hurt feeling.

"Screw O'Neill and his sappy speeches. You feel that strongly about something, you be prepared to back it up." Finn thought. But that was not a real fight he had with Bret Strand; Finn was just being a bully. Bret was a dick, but that was no excuse.

There was a knock at Finn's door, and it opened.

"Finn." It was his mother's voice.

"What is it?" Finn did not even look at her. Had she come to berate him for picking a fight?

"Finn, is something bothering you?"

"I'm fine."

"Finn, you don't normally lay quietly in your room for hours on end. Not even when you're sick." Helen noted. Finn silently acknowledged that truth. Sitting still always made him anxious. However, he did not answer her.

"Finn, I didn't mean to be so insensitive yesterday." Helen stated. Finn did not think his mother was being insensitive. The fact that she didn't bother to listen bothered him more than her comments. It was simply that every time she said something like that, Finn couldn't help but wonder whether or not his mother was disappointed that he was born male.

"Are you still having trouble with it? I would still like to help." Helen offered.

"No, I think I've got it." Finn stated. He didn't have it, not entirely.

"You think you have it?"

"Well, I can't see the future."

"Finn, I'm not just saying these things. If you're stuck, Finn, you can ask me." Helen persisted. Finn wondered if he shouldn't have been thankful for the effort, at least. But this wasn't the same as Aunt Rita. His mother had no intention of excusing her embarrassing behavior at the wedding.

But Finn turned on his bed to face her.

"I tried to cheer someone up today, and I failed. Miserably." Finn admitted.

"Oh?"

"She's not someone you've ever met, but some guy was a total jerk and well...it didn't turn out well. Now she's all upset."

"Finn, everyone makes mistakes."

"Yeah, but this happens every time I talk to her and try to cheer her up."

"Maybe you should just change your words. I know your idea of cheering people up Finn, and you can't bludgeon your way through everything. Sometimes it takes a little grace."

"But I'm trying to be graceful about things."

"Then try to bludgeon, and maybe you'll get graceful." Helen noted.

"All right. How much worse could it make things." Finn sighed.

The next day was a Saturday, so Finn had to wait all weekend in anguish before he could see Bret Strand again. Finn didn't think he had any classes with the soccer player, but it was easy enough to find the guy in the hallway: the soccer players had a favorite hangout during lunch time.

When Finn approached however, Bret seemed nervous.

"I guess I deserve that." Finn thought.

"Yo, Bret, I wanted to talk to you." Finn stated.

"Errr...I think we're good, Finn. We're cool." Bret returned. Finn sighed. The guy was clearly worried Finn was going to pummel him again, and he wasn't about to look like a weakling in front of his soccer buddies.

"I need to have a word with you. It can be quick or slow, but one way or another, I'm getting my point across." Finn crossed his arms across his chest and shot him a glare. To himself, he realized that it seemed almost contrary to the point, but Finn reasoned that, as long as he didn't throw any actual punches, he should be good.

Bret stood up, and the two men stepped outside.

"Listen, I wanted to apologize for hitting you at the Renaissance Faire. I shouldn't have done that." Finn stated. Bret's eyes widened, and it was clear an apology was not what he expected the outcome of the conversation to be.

"Errr...okay." Bret stated.

"It's just...it's well, Stacy's a friend of mine, and when you didn't call her back, you really messed her up. Dude, be classy, and at least be thorough. Tell her you don't want to date again if you're not going to date her again."

"Why are you telling me this?" Bret stated. "How many girls have you gone on dates with and never called back."

"I call back." Finn stated. "I'm not perfect, I mean. I do go on a lot of dates."

"Dude, I know who you are, Finn. You're that guy in our grade who gets all the girls fawning all over him. And you date `em and then you leave `em hanging. I see the girls waiting outside your locker to give you things, and you don't give them a date."

"It's not an exchange service." Finn stated.

"What's the difference, dude?"

"I still acknowledge each and every one of them." Finn replied. "And I don't go about with festivities. Plus, I don't drive any of it. She doesn't want to do it, that's on her. I'll at least call and thank her for it."

Bret didn't seem to have a response to that one, so Finn walked away. He wasn't exactly sure what to make of Bret's words. Not that he'd listen to that sex-obsessed jerk.

"But anyway, now I feel better. I didn't have to throw a punch for that. Save those for when it's worth it. I wonder if that will work for the self-esteem course."

The self-esteem course was set for Tuesday after school. Finn arrived to the class early per O'Neill's instruction. There was a tall woman with glasses, presumably the counselor, already waiting. She regarded Finn with a strange look; perhaps O'Neill hadn't told her about the other counselor. But she said nothing as the class filtered in.

"Now, class, today we have a very exciting discussion today." Mr. O'Neill started the lecture exactly as he did class, and now Finn was certain this class was a load of bollocks. Finn couldn't even pay attention to O'Neill during class, and the center had self-esteem.

"I'd like to ask the ladies to please accompany Ms. Crane to the room across the hall." Mr. O'Neill instructed.

"Ladies, grab your backpacks." The woman stated and left the room. Once the girls left, there were only about ten guys left.

"Now, this class lecture is going to be about issues that come up for sensitive, struggling teenage boys." Mr' O'Neill addressed, and Finn suppressed a gag reflex.

"Because these issues can often be...well...a little yucky, we've separated the girls so that you can speak openly without being judged." O'Neill continued.

"Why's Finn here?" One of the students asked. It seemed Mr. O'Neill wasn't lying about Finn's celebrity status. Not that Finn thought he was.

"Well..." Mr. O'Neill started.

"I'm here to talk to you about them." Finn stated. "Well, let's get started." Finn was losing his patience with the teacher.

"So, who here ever got a stiffy during class?" Finn addressed the class. Mr. O'Neill's eyes widened, although whether it was from Finn's casual abrasiveness or the topic itself was unclear. None of the students rose their hands.

"Like O'Neill said earlier, this isn't about judgment." Finn noted. "I don't care if you do or not, but I'm willing to bet at least one person was sitting in Bennett's class, listening to her talk about geometry or whatever, and all of a sudden, boom." Finn leaned on O'Neill's desk. Again, he got silence.

"Tough crowd." Finn noted out loud.

"Umm...Finn, you don't need to be so..." Mr. O'Neill tried to speak, but his discomfort was making him stutter more than usual, and Finn ignored him.

"Who here has ever had a wet dream?" Finn moved on. No one participated.

"This stuff is all stuff that happens to every guy, every place, all the time. This isn't church or anything. No one's going to judge you." The crowd was quiet.

"Well, class, why don't start with the other part of the lecture first." O'Neill started. "This is also going to be a class about body image. I'm sure all of you have noticed that no two guys are alike. Finn here is all buff and macho, and well, I'm not. And it's important for you all to realize that it's okay to just be who you are. You don't have to spend all day on the bicep press or playing football. What's more important is..." Finn winced on the word "bicep press" but said nothing.

"What do you think, Finn?" One of the students asked, but his remark didn't seem like a challenge. It seemed like a dare. Finn reasoned to tread lightly.

"Same." Finn stated. "It's the Y chromosome thing that makes you a man, that's it. You don't need to be ashamed of it, no matter what Barch says." Mr. O'Neill shot Finn a look the center found very strange, but did not say anything to him.

"And you think that, just because the big man on campus says it, it's supposed to make us feel better?" The student challenged.

"Beg your pardon?" Finn asked.

"You think that just because you're the football captain, we should listen to you?"

"I'm not the..." Finn started.

"You come in here, trying to act all chummy, act like we're all friends here, but the second you walk out that door, it's back to you being the big man who ignores all us little people."

"You'd feel better if I invited you to keggers?" Finn challenged.

"Finn, we shouldn't encourage..." O'Neill started, but Finn pounded his fist on the desk and glared at the teacher. He yelped and remained quiet.

"It certainly would be better than listening to this bullcrap speech about feeling good about ourselves when you're the one making us all look bad."

"Huh?"

"Oh sure, maybe you don't do it on purpose. But every time we see you walking down the hall, lady on each arm, rubbing your arms, how the hell do you think that makes us feel?"

"You think that's fun? Every time one of those girls does that, I think I'm about to have a heart attack." Finn noted.

"You at least get them. I work out and I work out, and I never get ripped like you. And when I try to get a date, I've gotta pay through the nose for the "privilege" of her time, and then they run off and fawn over you like you're some movie star." The student challenged.

"How does that make you less of a man?" Finn challenged. "Go on, answer me."

"Because you get all the chicks."

"Two different things." Finn noted. "You're a man, they are chicks. Nothing to do with each other. You mean to say you think that being a man means getting chicks? Dude, I go on a lot of dates, and it's not that great. If you think it's all about getting lucky, that's not it at all. And while I'm not the topic, being a man does not mean getting lucky either. It's not about catching an interception or chugging the most or even having the biggest tool. Just be you. Stand up for yourself. That's all." The class was silent and looked at Finn. He was surprised that he said pretty much the exact same thing as Mr. O'Neill, but the class seemed to listen. Maybe it was because Finn stood up to being challenged by the student.

"Stand up for yourself." Finn echoed. A mantra he learned a long time a go,

"Now, let's get back to the dirty stuff we're supposed to cover." Finn stated as he started to go back to the topic of wet dreams. He thought he got through to them, and the students smiled as he left. And, as Finn walked home, he realized his mother was right so long ago, when he talked to her about body image before. It had been about Brooke Cameron then, but it worked here just as well.

When he got home, he was eager to see his mother, perhaps for the first time in a long time. She was talking on the phone in the kitchen to presumably Eric Schrecter.

"Actually, Eric, I have to go. My son just walked in. Goodbye." Helen hung up the phone.

"Mom, I..." Finn started.

"Finn, perfect timing." Helen interrupted him. "I needed to reach my stockbroker before 5." She started dialing on the phone another number, and Finn found himself saddened again.

"Easy come, easy go." Finn thought. She would be busy all night, assuredly. And he sighed, and wondered whether or not those kids at the self-esteem class had mothers like Helen, who took a passing interest, than stopped the second the boss called.

"Then I'd be in the class." Finn thought. And then he recalled how often his mother criticized him, and wondered if the real reason was just because he was good at a game of pretend.