Holy dancing monkey's pajamas, guys. Another batch of reviews that made me cry. I love you all!

Okay, time for me to shut up for the moment!

A younger Lilly Redwood sat on the front stoop of her house, humming a little song and tapping her feet to it. She was waiting for her very good friend Willy to come around and take her firefly hunting.

"What're you doing, Maggot Head?"

Lilly looked behind her briefly, but then looked back in front of her, rolling her eyes as her older brother Curtis stood there, eating a loaf of bread. "Mom said not to call me Maggot Head," she said quietly and almost half-heartedly. She knew exactly what Curtis was going to say.

He didn't disappoint her. "What Mom doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"

Lilly stood up and jumped down the remaining steps. Curtis stopped mid-chew and called after her, "You're not supposed to leave the house at night, Maggot Head!

As Lilly skipped away, she called over her shoulder, "What Mom doesn't know, won't hurt her, right?"

But Lilly had never disobeyed her mother before. So she ran back to the stoop and sat down, burying her face in her hands as Curtis laughed at her.

"Stop making fun of her," a voice in front of the Redwood house said.

Curtis looked up and saw a scrawny little boy standing there, his arms crossed and an angry look on his metal-covered face.

"Oh look," Curtis spat at Lilly. "Your little boyfriend's here." He rolled his eyes, laughing, and went back inside.

Lilly waited until she heard the door close before she looked up. "Hi, Willy," she said quietly, and she was thankful that it was dark outside, because she found herself blushing for some odd reason.

"Hey, Lilly!" Willy said cheerfully. "You ready to go look for fireflies?"

Lilly nodded, but just as Willy was walking away, she grabbed his arm. "Wait a second," she said. "What's that on your other arm?"

Willy gasped and covered his arms with his sleeves. "Nothing. Just…I accidentally spilled something on my arm. It's not a big deal."

Lilly frowned, but let it go otherwise. They left to go firefly hunting, during which, of course, Willy exclaimed that there was a firefly as big as a house.

Willy nodded, snapping out of his recollection. "You're right. I do remember him. But only vaguely, because I'd usually attempt to get him away from you. Or you away from him. Or myself…away from him…."

But Lilly was staring at Willy's arm as if she thought that if she stared hard enough, she could see through his sleeve. "I want you to tell me what that is."

Willy looked at his arm, then up at Lilly. She was staring at him intently, and he knew that this was it. She had a right to know by now.

Since Willy had his arms free (he had given Libby to Lilly at some point during their mutual flashback), he sighed and stretched his arms. Then he took a deep breath and rolled back his right sleeve.

Lilly craned her neck a little to see better…but she suddenly wished she hadn't.

The marking on his arm was that of a grungy, haphazard, black circle with a line through it. Beside it said LOSER.

"Willy," Lilly said in a strangulated voice. "What is that?"

"It's my little identification stamp," Willy said, abhorrence in his voice. "When I was seven, some older kids thought it would be funny to give 'Weird Willy' a tattoo." He gazed at the permanent marking on his arm, the loathing in his expression melting into misery. "'He's too young to know. Too stupid,'" he whispered, remembering with painful accuracy the quotes he had heard the thirteen-year-old bullies snicker to each other as they pinned him to ground, wielding the ink-filled needle.

"Oh, Willy," Lilly said, her eyes filling with tears. The times she'd been with Willy—the times she should have seen the tattoo—she had noticed nothing. Her feeling of guilt rammed head-on with a feeling of relief. She was guilty of never noticing something so prominent; yet relieved that it had taken her this long to see it. The collision of emotions only confused her. "I…." she stopped herself from crying and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Willy rolled his sleeve back down and promptly walked out of the room.

...Oh dear. Usually...when the last two paragraphs are longer than any in the chapter...that usually means the author had to make a very quick and steady edit. Erm...I'll explain where and why I edited it a little later.

Oh, by the way, we're about to jump very far ahead, so buckle yer seatbelts an' hold on tight! ((crashes))