"You're cold that way, and that's why you say the things that you say. You can't attract the things that you lack, you're trying in vain."

Jars of Clay Crazy Times

Maybe Today

By: The BatThing

Chapter Two: Unfurled and Underway

Dick retreated up into his room, deciding it might be a good idea to start studying math – or at least look like he was doing so. It was hard, being a bit bitter at the subject for getting him into trouble. Concentrating without thinking back on what Bruce had said was close to impossible, and finally the eleven-year-old snapped his textbook shut, tossing it aside with a bit of a huff. He sat on his bed, Indian style, with his arms folded across his chest and simply stared out his window towards the equally as bitter sky. For a few moments he just thought about the whole ordeal, but that did little to make things better.

He hadn't been grounded, so why did he feel a whole lot worse about everything? Probably due to the fact that Bruce had outright accused him of being lazy, taking the easy way out, and being untrustworthy.

Slipping away from his bed, Dick took up his phone, staring at it a few moments in guilt before deciding to go ahead and call. After all, he hadn't been grounded – so why couldn't he use the phone? The raven-haired boy dialed up a number and waited, and when answered, asked for Haden. He was quick to be informed that Haden couldn't come to the phone, but that his mother would tell him that Dick had called.

Dick hung up, knowing perfectly well what that meant.

Haden had been caught too. He dialed up Greg and Darcy, and finally found one of his friends that could talk. Darcy Kent – the boy who had given them the answers.

"I'm really sorry; I didn' know they weren't the right answers." Darcy reasoned, in his even though never properly accused. He and Dick rarely spoke, simply friends through friends. After all, the blonde-haired boy had moved in just this year, from 'In-e-ana' as Darcy would say. All Dick really knew about him was that he had a strange way of pronouncing his words at times, that, and a strange name. "I jus' saw'it were a Math quiz and, ya' know, figur'd it was us?

"Well, I'm not mad. It's my own fault for using the answers." Dick told him. "I was just wondering who all got caught?"

"Yer not the only one whose done gone and called. Felix, Josh, an' Haden already tol' me they're grounded. …Ya' didn' get grounded?"

"No."

Darcy gave a nervous laugh. "Tha's why yer not mad at me, then. Everyone else is pretty mad."

Dick shrugged, pacing towards his window and forcing it open while holding the phone with his shoulder. He was welcomed with a chilly breeze, though hardly cool enough to do anything about. "I have to go to Mr. Ganthers' help sessions now, Darc, so I could be mad."

Another harrumph of laughter followed this, and it sounded like Darcy was eating something. It was somewhat annoying to listen to. "Mr. Ganthers' talked all our parents inta' makin' us go. I heard Haden hasta' go, my dad's makin' me go – and now ya're too. He's the devil. I hate 'em."

"Well, it's all going to come around one day or another. If we just get through it, then next year we'll laugh about it, right?"

"S'all gonna' come 'roun'." Darcy repeated, agreeing.

The sound of approaching footsteps warned Dick and the gypsy gave a nervous jump. He put his hand over the receiver and quickly whispered a goodbye, then hung-up. Not sparing a second for anything else, Dick took a flying leap onto his bed and flipped his math book open, trying to look like he was innocently and genuinely studying.

The door gently opened - a slight knock, but nothing more than that. There was no pause for extra assurance that it would be ok to come in, no moment to wait and see if maybe Dick didn't want anyone to come in. No, Bruce just entered. His attention drew straight to the window, and with an admonishing sigh, he looked at Dick. "The heat is on."

"Oh -- yeah." Dick turned over, doing everything in his power not to roll his eyes at the comment. Bruce was a billionaire. Figures he could afford a little open window – after all, it brought in the fresh scent of outdoors, and Dick enjoyed it. He slid it shut and locked the top, not bothering to look at his mentor as he returned to the bed, flopping down and staring at his book.

As if he could really study while Bruce was just standing there.

"Alfred seems to disagree with me."

Huh? Dick lifted his head, looking at Bruce with complete and utter curiosity. Wherever the conversation was heading, it was bound to be interesting. If anyone disagreed with Bruce it was interesting. After all, he owned half of the city, he was the Batman, and well … he just wasn't someone you wanted to be on the bad side of. And even though Alfred was allowed to disagree with Bruce, it wasn't like the man would bring up the fact. Usually he'd just sulk about it and keep it to himself. So why was he telling Dick?

"He says you study, and you try hard, and I don't give you enough credit." A pause. "What do you think?"

Oh good. What do you think? Dick inwardly groaned - he despised that question. Bruce might as well ask him what he thought about the carpet in the Study. No matter what Dick thought, it wouldn't change anything. It was just Bruce trying to play the 'good guy' role. And what could the boy actually say? 'Well, I agree. I am a hard worker.'? That'd sound good, after he just cheated. Suspicious of a trap, and unwilling to make a fool of himself, Dick kept his mouth shut. He acted as if his comforter was of greater interest.

It wasn't.

"You're not going to say anything?"

"Well, I dunno."

"…"

Dick took in a deep breath and decided that if he didn't talk Bruce would be in a foul mood. He picked the lesser of two evils. "I try to do my best." There, that was a safe answer – wasn't it?

"Well, you don't have to go to the morning help sessions. After school should be enough. Though, if the subject of cheating comes up again, and we find out that you are, in fact, not doing your own work – well, we'll just have to talk again."

I'd love that. Dick nodded. He hated it when Bruce got like this. It was strange, as much as he wanted the man to be act like his father – he hated it when this sort of thing occurred. He hated it when Bruce acted like Dick should fear him. And Dick hated it that he did.

As much as he adored the man, it was so easy to get pissed: real quick, real fast.

"Alfred says dinner's ready – I've got a case." And the man turned, leaving the room, and probably planning to be gone for half the night. It would be the last time the eleven-year-old would see him till tomorrow.

Oh well, he didn't care. Thankful that he wouldn't have to sit through an awkward dinner with his guardian, Dick got to his feet and started for the door. Thank God for Alfred.

As it turned out, all Dick's friends were forced into going to the after school help sessions, and not a single one was happy about it. Dick and Greg didn't outright blame Darcy, but it was hard not to get mad at him. Especially now that they were there, suffering for getting caught. Dick had to remind himself that he was the one who had accepted the answers. Darcy hadn't even given them to him. Haden had.

Still.

Haden and Felix Marsh were giving Darcy the silent treatment, and doing what they could to get Dick and Greg to join them in their quest for justice. Though, by the end of the session, it seemed like they were mad at the two for not being mad with Darcy.

Mr. Ganthers just stared at the five, answered the few questions asked, and by the end of the session, appeared angered. "You all are here for your obvious lack of intellectual capacity of what we're studying. So, what I don't seem to understand is why there aren't more questions being raised. As it appears, Mr. Grayson is the only one of you doing moderately well, and the only one asking questions."

It was an unwanted complement, and Dick had a feeling the teacher knew that. The last thing the eleven-year-old wanted was for his friends to be put under him by Mr. Ganthers. He braced himself and looked down at his book, deciding not to ask as many questions next time.

"All of your parents and or guardians have requested that I provide updates to tell them how you are doing. So, I would suggest starting acting a little more interested in the subject. Comprende, gentleman?"

A small murmur.

"I hear he's got lives with some guy." Haden was waiting outside the school with Dick and Greg. Darcy and Felix's rides had already come and gone, leaving the three to wait. "I heard that his … boyfriend, or whatever the hell it is, is really sick too."

"Boyfriend?" Greg asked, looking confused. "You mean – he's gay?"

Dick sighed; this wasn't any of their business. He didn't care about Mr. Ganthers' life anymore than Mr. Ganthers' cared about his. Besides, he knew what it was like to have rumors going around like this. "At least he let us out a few minutes early."

Haden looked at Dick for a few moments and then shrugged. "He would have let us out earlier if you hadn't asked so many questions."

"I had to ask something."

"Yeah, right – whatever." Haden slouched a bit, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket and staring out, wishing his ride would appear to take him home.

Swallowing a comeback, as usual, Dick wondered why he even bothered with Haden at times. Well, it wasn't like he had a choice. The two ran in the same circles, both popular, and both in all the same classes. It wasn't that Haden was annoying all the time, it was just …he could get bad at the drop of a hat. Besides, Dick had his own friends. Roy, Wally, Garth, Donna … he even got to pal around with the Superman at times. He didn't need a bunch of rich-kids to be his friend. 'Beat that.' The boy thought to himself with a small smile.

"Is that your car, Dick?" Greg questioned as the Royce pulled into the school drive. He looked disappointed at the fact that it wasn't his ride.

"See you guys tomorrow."

"Later."

The weeks seemed to do anything but drag. It was a continuous loop, week after week of the same routine – and it was getting old. The help sessions did little to brighten any day. The knowledge that right after school, when everyone else was so happy to go home, Dick and the other four found themselves waiting in silence for Mr. Ganthers to come and start their question-answer time. And even though they had been attending for the past three weeks, their grades did little to improve. Dick did manage to raise above the sudden drop after being caught cheating and once more retained a low B, but it did little to appease Bruce.

Not that the billionaire was upset by it, or mad – he would just offer the same line each time the subject came up. "I know you can do better." Dick was just thankful that he was still allowed to hit the roofs every weekend, and even some school nights that he got lucky. Despite the small collision he and his mentor had at times, it hardly lasted.

"It's really raging out there!" Felix proclaimed later that day, as the five waited for their math teach to show up. School had let out ten minutes ago, and they had dragged themselves into the empty classroom to await their doom. Though, there was a little comfort in the weather.

Even though it was raining, and dark – the fact that there was lightning and thunder pulled their attention away. It didn't lightning and thunder very often – it was almost a rare treat. Though, it was clear Greg didn't agree. He'd jump at the sudden book, and occasionally wince at the flash of light.

Dick made his way beside Felix, pushing a hand against the window as he looked outside. They were two stories up, and below students could be seen getting in their parent's cars, and filing on home. "They're all getting wet."

"Hah! Suckers." Felix smirked at the sight. "For once, this help session is worth something. They're out there getting drenched, and we're in here not getting drenched."

Casting an ill amused look at the other boy's direction, Dick opened up the window. "You think Mr. Ganthers is sick? He's usually here waiting, and it's been ten minutes."

It was Haden's turn to make his way to the two at the window. He gave a lame shrug and took a turn to see the sight below them. "He's never sick. With our luck, he's probably running off extra assignments so we can get more practice in. He'll probably make them homework too, just for us."

"He can' do that!" Darcy exclaimed, not enjoying hearing this.

"I don't think he can." Dick told him, looking at Haden, unsure.

Haden simply gave a smile and shook his head.

As if to answer the lingering question, the door boomed open and their teacher entered, looking a bit more out of sorts than usual. He didn't have any of his things with him, no satchel, no papers, no books. "The help session has been cancelled – get out."

There was a communal silence at this. All five were unsure what to make of this strange statement. Was it because of the rain? Was the weather going to get worse? Was Mr. Ganthers sick? They stayed immobile for a few moments, and then as if released, started to pack up their things, saying nothing until they were out in the hall.

"That was weird." Dick breathed, looking at Haden, as if his friend might have the answer to why they were dismissed. He knew better than to think Haden would know anything, after all, the boy lived off of assumptions and rumors. Still, an assumption was better than nothing. With an assumption, Dick could at least assume something – right?

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it?"

Greg looked confused. "No."

"He's talking about Ganthers' 'friend'." Felix sighed, hitching up his backpack and starting down the stairs. He shook his head as he spoke. "You don't know anything, Haden."

"I know that his boyfriend was getting sicker last week, I'll bet you anything he died or something. I bet that's why the help session was cancelled." He sported a secure smile at his statement and looked back to Dick. "We got lucky."

"Someone dyin' ain't lucky t'all." Darcy said softly, more to himself then the others. "But I'm glad that we don' hafta sit through another 'our of that."

"A what? Talk normal, Darcy! " Haden accused, which only served to start a fight between him and the blonde.

"An 'our! I can say 'our!"

"It's HOUR! Just like it isn't tal! It's TOWEL! You talk like a retard."

Darcy gave a centered glare. "Least I don' talk like a'snob."

"Thank God I do! It's better than your …"

Dick ignored them, though he couldn't help but feel a bit happy about the help session being cancelled. If someone had died, he shouldn't be thankful that it was the reason he was freed of a few hours of boredom. It was hard to help though, Gathers was like the devil's spawn at times. The eleven-year-old dug through his backpack and pulled out his cell phone, dialing home.

Greg looked at him. "Can I use that when you're done?"

"Sure."

To be continued …