Title: Another Brick in the Wall

Author: Lea of Mirkwood

Disclaimer: Own Kit, Greengrass High and it's students and Gracie. Own nothing else.

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Tuesday, November 3, 1998

Kit got out of her car slowly, throwing her backpack over her shoulder. She locked the door and tossed her keys into the side pocket of her bag. She had parked closer to the school today. She coldly passed the bus loop and headed towards the front doors. As she walked across the front lawn she heard male voices yelling, "One! Two! Three!" and a cry of "No, not the pole!" Kit's eyes moved towards the flagpole and Casey lying curled up on the ground. She looked at him for a moment and then turned her head and walked up the steps. Her shoulders hunched. She felt Casey's gaze boring into the back of her head. Her face flushed with shame and guilt. She walked towards the bank of pay phones by the entrance and picked up the receiver. It was - she checked her watch - six a.m. in Wyoming. She could call Rob. He would probably be feeding the horses. His mom would lean out the window and say, "Rob, it's Kit!" And he would drop the bucket of feed and vault over the fence and take the phone. His mom would shake her head with a little smile and he would say, "Hi honey!" and she would say...what? No, she couldn't call Rob. Nell? She would be sitting in the arbor probably reading or something. Nell she could talk to. She started to dial the number but stopped, hanging up the receiver and putting her hand to her throat. How could she talk long distance of she could barely speak for the lump in her throat? Tears pricked at her eyes and she searched the halls for a friendly face. Calculus was second period. She could sit next to Gracie in the back and ignore everyone. Suddenly she could hear everything. "Slut," hissed someone. "Freak-seeker," hissed another. She bit her lip and tried to focus on something else. She hurried over to her locker and opened it, putting her books inside. She finished and closed the door. A wolf whistle from behind her made her turn, ready to punch the whistler, but it was only Zeke, who hissed as he passed her, "Decided to come in to see how the gossip circle worked. Nice ass, by the way."

Kit let her breath hiss out from between her teeth. "You are such a jerk," she hissed, her voice low and ragged. He turned and flashed a crooked grin at her and pointed his finger at her with a wink. Kit whirled around and pounded her fist on her locker door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Casey slowly walk in, his arm wrapped around his stomach, looking queasy. Kit watched him carefully out of the corner of her eye, wishing she could go over there to see if he was okay, feeling a burning shame that she hadn't tried to stop it, and feeling a deep hurt and fury because of his angry words still echoing in her head. Finally she slammed her hand on her locker again, tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked them away and turned away from Casey and out the front doors again. She barely made it to her car before the emotional tide broke loose. She didn't cry at all, just stood next to her car taking deep, ragged breaths. She opened the car door and sat down in the passenger seat. Forget American History.

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Casey watched an angry Kit storm out the front doors.

"I guess she is human after all," he muttered, slamming his locker door. He went to American History. No Kit. She didn't show up all class long. But there she was in Calculus, sitting in the back with Gracie. He took a seat at the front. He ate lunch in the bleachers. She ate in her car, spilling crumbs all over the seat and making her curse loudly and wipe off the seats frantically. She was not in their World Lit. class.

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Casey Conner

When I was in sixth grade I had a friend named Justin. We were best friends. We'd hide from the pee-wee football team and the pee-wee wrestling team because they beat us up. The summer before seventh grade he went to Texas for summer camp. I went to day-camp because my parents didn't want me too far away. When seventh grade started I almost didn't recognize him. He had come back really tall and really muscular and his cousin had taught him how to play football, how to lift weights and how to shoot a gun. I was just naturally small, even then. We were good friends still, and he tried to teach me football, but I really didn't care so much. There was this girl I liked, her name was Joanie. I asked Justin to talk to her and find out if she liked me. She didn't, but she did like Justin, and they started dating. When I found out about this I yelled at Justin and said he did it on purpose. He yelled back and called me a little wimp with no backbone who would never get a girl. The next day he tried out for the football team, got in and never spoke to me again. One time I went to a game to see how it went. Joanie was a cheerleader. At the end of the game, when we won, Justin went over to Joanie and she pulled off his helmet and kissed him, right there in the middle of the field, not twenty feet away from me. All the parents (who were pretty much the only ones who went to middle school games) thought that was so cute and started taking pictures. I went home and cried myself to sleep for the loss of my best friend and the girl I liked. I haven't cried much since.

There's no crush involved now, but I think I lost another best friend.

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Friday, November 6, 1998, After school

Kit sat down on the front steps of the school, half-heartedly humming Hunk O Burnin Love.

Casey started to walk down the front steps. Suddenly he heard someone humming and froze, peering down the steps. He saw the back of Kit's head and the two braided pigtails hanging down to her shoulder blades. He took a few cautious steps down the stair and then froze again as her humming stopped abruptly. Her back stiffened. He tiptoed down to the step she was on and sat down next to her, looking down at the ground. He sat silently for a minute, at a loss for words. Finally he opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry."

Kit blinked.

"I'm so, so sorry, Kit. I...I didn't mean it."

Kit smiled briefly. "I expect you did mean it, Casey."

"Please, Kit. I'm really sorry."

Only then did Kit look at him. She was silent, and then something in her eyes changed. She reached up and brushed his bangs aside to reveal a small bruise. She made a little tsk-ing noise and said softly, "What happened here?"

Casey sighed in relief and closed his eyes. Kit sighed in resignation.

"I guess I'm doomed, huh Case?"

He opened one eye. "Why?"

"It is impossible to stay mad at someone who can look so vulnerable." She grinned and picked up a hickory nut shell and chucked it at him. He opened his other eyes and stared at her.

"Hey!" he said indignantly. She got up quickly, leaving her backpack and ran down to the lawn. Casey picked up the shell she'd thrown at him and threw it back. She picked up a few more and threw them back.

"Vengeance!" she yelled, throwing another.

"Ah! No! Take that! And that!"

"No! I've been hit!" Kit clutched at her chest melodramatically and staggered. She threw another at Casey and miraculously recovered. He yelled and pretended to "die." Suddenly the two froze when they heard Coach Willis yell, "What are you kids doing out there? Stop throwing those fucking nuts!"

Kit snorted at the coach's choice of words and grabbed her backpack. Casey grabbed his bag as well and they sprinted across the lawn and across the parking lot. Casey waved to Kit and boarded the bus.

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Kit O'Connell

I felt really, really guilty about ignoring when the football team was ragging on him.

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