Prologue

Admittedly, it wasn't the first time Gilbert had been in trouble with the school. If it had been he might have been shaken up. He would have stuttered out about a million excuses on why he had done something so terrible…Yada yada.

As it was, he wasn't giving any excuses this time. This time he was actually going to fess up and take whatever dumbass punishment the school would dole out. Detention, suspension, whatever they felt was 'necessary' to improve his behavior. He actually had a pretty good relationship with the detention teacher. Sometimes they would play board games, if no other students had been lucky enough to get detention for the day.

Realistically, at this rate Gilbert was on track for expulsion, forget suspension.

He sat in the counselor's office, waiting for Ms. Elizaveta to finish up with her advising session. She would say that the long wait in the uncomfortable chairs should be more than enough to get the guilty thoughts rolling. To Gilbert, it was just enough to make his lower back scream.

The door clicked open. A young kid, maybe fifteen, close to ran from the office; his cheeks were flushed and it looked like there might have been the faintest tear tracks on his face. Not far behind him was Ms. Elizaveta, who cocked her hip and leaned against the doorway to her office. She considered Gilbert and pursed her lips. He tried to throw a charming grin her way but the way her brow furrowed made his grin drop almost immediately.

"Get in here," she said, "and don't think you are going to escape this time." She straightened and returned to the office.

No one really knew what it was about Ms. Elizaveta that made students react the way they did. Some people said it depended on why you were there and how much of a bitch you were being. Sometimes people would enter crying and emerge with a relieved smile. Sometimes it was the other way around, and a perfectly relaxed individual would return with newfound anxiety.

He followed her and sat. She regarded him pensively, sitting with her hands clasped under her chin. Her dark hair fell in waves across her shoulders, and it struck Gilbert that despite how pretty she looked in the moment, she could snap his neck in a heartbeat.

"I assume you know why you're here." She stated.

Gilbert sighed. "Yes, I know why I'm here. Listen, I'm not going to make some lame ass excuse or lie. He pissed me off, so I hit him." Her eyebrow arched.

"I'm almost impressed." He smirked. "Almost," she accentuated. "The fact that you aren't lying at least gives me some hope. Normally we would be having a mediation with Roderich, but…"

She didn't have to finish her thought. Roderich was a sore loser, and a pansy in addition. As he'd retreated, he'd shrieked girlishly and declared that Gilbert's parents would be hearing from a lawyer. In the moment Gilbert hadn't cared and took some satisfaction in the fact that he had probably just made Roderich wet himself in his stupid ass Ralph Lauren khakis.

Now Gilbert felt a little bad. But only a little.

Roderich held the opinion that he was god's gift to Earth. He made it clear by the snide remarks he made and the way he would wipe down anything handed to him. It was infuriating. This time the breaking point had been when Roderich had made a snide comment to his brother. Gilbert could stand a lot of things, but his brother being bullied was not one of them.

Ms. Elizaveta exhaled quickly, like the last of her energy was ready to leave her body. "I'm aware that Roderich can be a little…much…sometimes, but we can't just go punching everyone who pisses us off. As nice as it would be to imagine, there are consequences to our actions." She turned, then, and rummaged through one of the drawers in her filing cabinet. She found a folder and slid it out, thumbing through it mindlessly. Gilbert wanted to make a joke, but then he stopped himself, reminding himself that he was trying to atone.

She continued. "I'm aware that there were certain extenuating circumstances here, so we are making some adjustments to the way we would normally handle this."

"Detention?" he guessed. She shook her head, making a small snorting sound with her nose.

"I think we both know that detention is just a way to keep you out of trouble, Mr. Beilschmidt. We need to actually improve your behavior in a productive way."

Dread pooled in the bottom of his gut. What was she talking about? Community service? Cleanup duty with the janitors? He regretted not making excuses, cursing that the one time he told the truth that he would actually get punished.

Ms. Elizavetaa opened the file in front of him, revealing a stack of report cards. Gilbert peered down at them and then saw his name in the top left corner.

What the fuck?

"Gilbert, you're too smart to be acting like this. You have honors level Algebra, Chemistry, and Physics. Your history grades are proficient. The only class you struggle with is English." He momentarily preened under her praise before snapping back to reality. Whatever was happening couldn't be good.

"What does this have to do with my punishment? I get that I'm awesome, but I'd honestly rather skip to the part where you tell me what shitty scheme you have lined up." Gilbert prodded, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. She glared.

"I'm getting there. The principal and I have agreed that it might be mutually beneficial for us to pair you up with another troubled student. Now this student would be responsible for getting your grades up in your English courses. In return, you will be helping this student raise his grade in his math courses." She sat back and spread her hands, suggesting that now was the time for questions.

Troubled student…

They wanted to pair him up with some nutjob so he could tutor him in math? Hell no.

"So you want me to tutor the kid." She nodded.

"Both of you are failing in two courses required to graduate. So, clearly, now is the time to fix this conundrum before both of you have to repeat your senior year. He has already agreed to this," Ms. Elizaveta explained.

Gilbert decided to push his luck; he felt the irritation begin to prick his skin. "And what if I don't agree to this?"

She smiled, but not kindly. It was a tight smile, suggesting that Gilbert was not going to like her answer. "It is in the school's opinion that students failing out of courses reflects badly on us as staff. They do not want to fail either of you, so they are offering this option as an alternative to your expulsion."

Shit.

He had to bite back the stream of expletives ready to leave his lips. This was…

Ridiculous.

Asinine.

Totally not awesome.

And his last chance. He sighed, closing his ruby eyes in resignation. "Ja… I get it. So what's the deal with the kid?"

Ms. Elizaveta smiled the grin of a woman who knew that refusal wasn't an option.

"I'm glad you asked."

The library was quiet except for the ticking of the clock at reception. It was deafening in the silence. Matthew had been staring at the same page for an hour. Whatever he did the numbers just seemed to float off the page, and when they stayed there they would jumble themselves all up. He had another test tomorrow. He sighed.

Matthew spent two to three hours a day in the library. He thought that the quiet might make it easier to focus, but it turns out that it was just as bad as anywhere else. The only difference was that there was no one in the library to bother him while he was studying. So he was stuck there, just him and that damn clock. He looked up from his worksheet to check the time. 5:50PM. He was going to be late for dinner again.

He stood, folding his worksheet in half and shoving his textbook down into his backpack. He shouldered it, taking one more moment to unfold the paper and stare at the equations on them. It was like looking at a different language.

Alfred had always offered Matthew a ride home, but Matthew always needed the walk to build the confidence to pretend that everything was okay. At least as far as his family was concerned. He gritted his teeth, thinking about his continuously sinking algebra grade.

His house was only a few blocks from school, so it only took him a few minutes before he was standing in front of the burgundy door. A Christmas wreath hung there happily. Matthew scowled. Finals… He shook his head, pushed his blonde curls off his forehead, fixed a plastic smile on his face, opened the door.

"Mattie!"

Alfred was lounging on the couch, head hanging off of the seat cushions and socked feet straight up in the air. "You're late!"

Matthew mumbled, "Sorry."

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Arthur Kirkland stood, holding a plate in one hand and a dishtowel in the other. "Oh, Matthew. I was ready to send out a search party." His British accent was clipped. "This is the third time this week." Matthew winced. The smart thing to do would be to tell his guardian that he was failing algebra. Badly. Alfred wasn't exactly the best student and Arthur was still proud of him. But…

Matthew wasn't Alfred. He wasn't the golden boy with the dashing grin or the charm of a playboy. He wasn't the star of their school's football team. Matthew didn't really do much besides go to school and occasionally hang out with Alfred or his cousin Francis. Francis was the closest thing to a friend that Matthew had.

Depressing.

"Never mind." Arthur sighed. "There's meat pies on the counter. You might have to reheat them in the oven, they're a bit stodgy." Alfred snorted and Arthur shot him a look. "Arthur, they were stodgy when you made them." Arthur ignored him. "They're quite good this time I think."

Matthew walked past them both and went straight to his bedroom. The sun was setting and it cast an orange glow on the room, which would have been pretty had Matthew not been in such a poor mood. He dropped his bag, letting it thud loudly on the floor, and slumped onto his bed. He laid back and pushed his glasses up until they sat on his forehead. He pressed his knuckles into his eyes and let out an aggravated growl.

"Woah," Alfred whistled lowly from the doorframe. Matthew sat up quickly. "Bad day?"

Matthew sighed. "Something like that." It was too much to explain. And even if he did, it would just lead to more questions. Alfred sat down next to him and stared patiently at him. "Well?" Alfred burst out after a few moments of Matthew being silent. He knew that Alfred meant well but… No. He needed some alone time.

Matthew shook himself. "It's nothing. I have a test tomorrow so I stayed late studying and now my head hurts."

…It wasn't exactly a lie. His head did hurt.

Alfred didn't look convinced, but he shrugged and got up. He stopped at the doorway and turned. "Just let me know if you need anything, broseph." Matthew managed a smile and watched his brother's body leave his line of sight.

He laid there for a while. He thought about how he'd gotten here. He was lucky, really. He and Alfred were technically half-brothers. When their father had died, he had had custody of both brothers, and his father had just finished burying Maria Jones when the cancer diagnosis came.

As a result, the boys' closest relative had been Arthur. He took two young boys into his home at age twenty and did the best he could. He'd finished his doctoral program the year Matthew turned thirteen and got a job teaching at a local university. Matthew couldn't help but feel that the effort was wasted on him. His cat Kumajirou suddenly leapt up onto the bed and flopped down next to Matthew. She looked at him expectantly. He pet her and she closed her eyes happily.

As the sun set in Matthew William's bedroom, he turned over in bed and fell into a fitful sleep.