Summary: Blake decides that he wants to stop wearing long-sleeves. His mom, Dylan, Alex, Dean, Roman, and Seth are there for him.

Maybe it was impulse decision. Maybe Blake wanted to see how his classmates and how the teachers would react when they realize that it was worse than they thought. Maybe he wanted everyone to see how 'screwed up' he was in the head. Maybe he was tired of hiding his scars. Maybe it was the warm weather that caused him to decide to go without sleeves.

He didn't know what made him go sleeveless and it made his heart pound, seeing the scars. He wanted to put on a long-sleeved shirt back on. He didn't put a long-sleeve shirt on and he looked at his scars.

The deeper vertical scar on both wrists was a reminder that he tried to end his life. A reminder on how 'stupid' he felt trying to end his life. A part of him wanted to try again and again to end it all. He didn't want to put his dad through pain of losing his only other relative.

He didn't like his scars; it was a reminder to him on how he needed someone to listen.

Christina was surprised to see Blake without long-sleeves. It wasn't a shock since she did see him without long-sleeves on at times, but he usually wore something covering his arms. This time, he was revealing his scars and a bit of happiness spread in her. She was so proud she could cry.

Blake looked uncertain and possible regretting his decision.

"Are you okay?" Christina asked.

Blake shook his head, "No."

Christina wasn't sure. "You can put a long-sleeved shirt on."

Blake shook his head. "I'm going to try to go sleeveless."

Christina ruffled Blake's black shoulder-length hair. "Maybe you could do something with that hair."

"No," Blake replied. He liked his hair just fine.

Apparently Dylan and Alex made up after Dylan wanted to sacrifice Alex to the Celtic gods.

Blake wasn't sure what the fight was about and didn't want to ask questions. Sort of.

"Sacrificing him to the Celtic gods?" Blake asked, looking at Dylan, really confused.

"Hey, you're not wearing long-sleeves," Dylan replied. He changed the topics and looked at Blake's arms. He grabbed one of Blake's arms and looked at the scars. He looked at the scars before when he was making sure he wasn't cutting again. Somehow it was different. He didn't know why.

"Celtic gods, Dylan," Blake replied.

"I was pissed off and was looking into Celtic myth," Dylan replied. He was touching the scars and Blake pulled his arms away.

"Why?" Alex asked. Maybe was still mad at getting told that he's going to be sacrificed to Celtic gods.

"I was bored," Dylan replied.

"How come you're not wearing sleeves?" Alex asked changing subjects.

Blake shrugged, "I wanted to." Dylan pulled Blake into a hug. "Did you just kiss the side of my head?"

"Sorry." Dylan said, as his cheeks warmed up.

"It's okay," Blake replied. Alex was standing there, looking uncomfortable and Blake held one arm out towards him. Alex smiled and went to hug his friends.

It felt like people were staring at his arms, Blake wasn't sure if they were or he was paranoid.

Maybe Dean rubbed off of him.

He didn't know and looked at the scars on his arms. He accumulated two years worth of them.

Blake noticed a boy staring at the scars on his arms, "What?" The teacher was writing something on the board and Blake was trying to take notes.

"Wow. You're really fucked up," The boy said. Some kids near Blake and Eric, gave Eric a dirty look.

"Eric! Stop staring at someone's scars! That's impolite!" The teacher Mrs. Chambers ordered. "And it's impolite telling someone they're messed up! It's also impolite making fun of someone's disorder!"

"I didn't make fun of him," Eric countered.

"You told him that he's messed up. How is that not making fun of someone?" Mrs. Chambers demanded and Eric sank down in his desk. "I should write you up for that. Go wait out in the hall." Eric left the classroom and Blake sat there confused. Mrs. Chambers looked at Blake, "Except for you, dear. Continue with writing the notes down."

Mrs. Chambers went to her desk and took out a notepad of orange-red paper and started writing a referral.

Blake felt eyes on him and looked down at his desk. He had the sudden urge to leave the classroom in embarrassment.

"The Happy Birthday thing is vaguely Satanic," Roman said. They were walking up to Dean's house.

"It kind of is," Seth replied.

"What makes you think that?" Dean asked.

"Think about it." Roman explained, "You're in a circle around a burning object. You sing a song in unison. The fire is blown out and you stab the object."

"I bet you were fun at parties," Dean replied. He wasn't sure if he should be concerned or not.

"Have you been to parties?" Seth asked, suspiciously.

"No. My friends were those people who read the original Shakespeare scripts while high," Dean said. "This one chick got all philosopher-like on us; which wasn't that much of a difference. Except that she talked slower and had red eyes."

"I bet you were that exciting group," Roman said.

"No. I left when they started pulling out their drugs and went to the park." Dean explained and opened the door to his house.

Blake was lying on the couch and Dean wasn't surprised at all. The only thing that was surprising was that Blake wasn't wearing long-sleeves at all.

"I see you're not wearing long-sleeves," Dean pointed.

Blake nodded and stood up. He walked to his dad and hugged him. Dean hugged him back. "Some people are calling me wrist-slasher."

Seth and Roman looked at each other. It made Seth feel like he was intruding in a private matter and Roman was just awkward as hell.

"It's going to be okay," Dean replied. "They're just morons who get off on insulting somebody."

Seth and Roman nodded.

"Ignore them. They have nothing better to do then insult somebody," Seth said. "It's like high school for me all over again. My parents get called hippies too."

Dean gave him a weird look and released Blake. "I'll be right back." He went in the kitchen.

"Ignore them. They have nothing better to do." Roman said and ruffled Blake's hair.

"You have friends and family that care about you." Seth said and patted Blake on the shoulder.

"Just agree with everything they say. They have no 'fire' if you agree with those insults." Dean explained, as he was holding Azrael. "I keep finding him in my sink." Blake grabbed the cat.

"Okay," Blake said.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait for an update.

I would say that I got writer's block, but I didn't.

I figured that Blake needed to remove the long-sleeves.

The cake and philosopher conversation are the type of conversations that my friends and I have.