He always acted like he'd never see her again.

"Mandy!" the redhead had squeeked, arms wrapping around her, not noticing her recoil. "Hiiiiii!"

The blonde sighed, detangling herself from her friend. "Billy, please. You're making a scene."

He blinked at her. "What's for lunch?"

Looking at the wide array of lunch foods available at X, Mandy took two trays, and grabbed various things for Billy. Nothing with sugar. The boy was hyper enough as it was. Handing him his tray, she sighed visibly as he began shoveling it into his mouth with one hand, standing in the middle of the line stupidly. She'd known him for what seemed to be a nightmarishly long time, and yet he never seemed to get any smarter as time went on. Back when they were little kids, she'd just thought he was silly or a little dim witted. By middle school, however, she had lost all patience for him.

"Sit at a table, moron," she told him, and he sat down obediently, not understanding the angry expression on Mandy's face.

"What's wrong, Mandy?" he asked, looking up from licking his hand with confused brown-black eyes. "You want some of my mashed potatos?"

"No, Billy." She replied, never quite meeting his eyes. "I'm fine."

A few hours, she told herself, eyes focused on her juice. In a few hours, she would be completely free of this. She wouldn't have to babysit him anymore. The world wouldn't see Mandy, friend of the moron, they'd see Mandy, unappreciated genius. Chugging her apple juice, eyes closed, she decided she was doing him a favor. Billy would end up in a home or something anyway. He couldn't even find his classes without her help. Glancing over at him, she found he was building a square out of his food. Was there a doubt her mind? Was there a voice telling her that this was wrong, that her plans could go on without hurting him? Was there a part of her that recognized him as an old friend, someone who meant a lot to her?

No. There was no room for such things in her mind. Without any guilt, she grabbed his cup and added something to it under the table, handing it to him with the firm instruction to drink it. He downed it without hesitation.

"Irwin." Mandy snapped, causing the other boy to jump. "Today you're going to skip a few periods of school, alright?"

"Mandy?" he asked, confused.

"Just trust me," she told him softly. With that, she grabbed Billy by the hand, cringing slightly at the contact, and the two left the lunch room together. When she returned a moment later, Billy was nowehere in sight.

The next time he saw her, she knew, would be his last.

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

"I've noticed something," Fillmore said, staring her down. "No matter what your file says, people are telling me things less than stellar about you."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh, really? Like who?"

"A better question be who hasn't," he corrected her. "Everybody I meet is terrified of you. Everyone says you're cold. You're cruel. You don't care when people get hurt or when things go wrong, and you don't think of anybody but yourself. You aren't sorry when you make mistakes and you mock others for being less than perfect."

"So?"

"A lack of remorse as characterized by having no shame or concept of right and wrong. Constant lying, and an inability to tell the truth shown in your ability to pass a lie detector test. Shallow emotions, with abnormal reactions to serious consequences. And the real zinger, a total lack of empathy. Mandy, you're a sociopath." Fillmore smirked at her. "And with all the interviews we have here, we can land you in therapy until your 20's."

"What?" Mandy snarled, eyes narrowing to slits. "You can't do that, there's nothing wrong with-"

"Furthermore," he went on, as if she hadn't said anything, "You're authoritarian, you think you're fine, you go way our of your way to look normal, and you've said you want to rule the world. It wouldn't take much for me to get the school therapist to write up a diagnosis and reccommend you to a center. After that, your lawyer will make you plead insanity. I see some serious time in a lockdown facility in your future, sweet cheeks."

Mandy met his gaze with a kind of intensity that would have petrified a lesser man. "What do you want?"

"Truth. You can either tell me how it went down and why, or I'll have you locked up. This isn't some game, Mandy. This is murder, and you aren't gonna be walking the streets after this unless we know what happened. You can tell me and go to the police honestly, or I'll throw you away for life. 'Cause let me tell you something, girl, they don't let you out after a set amount of days in mental hospitals. They'll keep you there forever if they have to. Now, I'm gonna come back here in ten minutes with my partner, and you'll have made your choice." Fillmore stood, never once looking remotely unsure of himself. "Think about it."

The second he was clear of the room, Vallejo pulled him aside, eyes wide. "What the hell was that?"

"That was me wheelin' and dealin'," the Safety Patroller chortled. "And I'd say we got her where we want her."

"I know that, what I meant was where the heck did you learn all the stuff?"

Ingrid shared a smile with her partner. "I taught him. Figured it'd come in handy one of these days." She turned to Fillmore, expression serious. "Do you really think she'll crack?"

"Yeah, I do," he said, looking in at Mandy where she sat, looking far away. "I really do."

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

"Mandy, I don't feel so good..." Billy muttered, holding his stomach. "It feels like a weasel's inside."

He was so stupid. She smirked benignly down at him. "It'll be fine. You just ate too much at lunch, stupid." For good measure, she added, "You better not throw up on me."

Irwin was shaking. Visibly, physically shaking. His part wasn't done yet. In the quiet, Mandy could hear the pottery furnace's dull roar. With a look, she signaled to him to go while she stood by Billy, huddled in an oft forgotten tool shack. Irwin gulped, steadied his voice, and off he went to tell them to keep it on for the Egyptian Club so that they could make vases later. They bought it, just like she knew they would. Of course, they had no reason not to believe him. Lots of black kids were part of the Egyptian Club. He could be just another face in the EC they didn't recognize. They were trusting, the Pottery Club. They wouldn't check for paperwork or clearance for such a little request.

Billy was really in pain now, curled up into a ball. His red hair was matted with sweat, and his eyes looked small in his head. She stood over him, impassive and expressionless, just like she'd always been ever since they were little. It was nice to have her with him, he thought. He liked having Mandy around. She could talk to people when they spoke too fast for him to understand. She knew everything. He smiled up at her, tongue lolling out stupidly. She didn't return the smile. Mandy never did and never would. That was okay, though. That was just her.

"Mandy?" he asked, as she pulled him to his feet, "What're you doing?"

"We're going to go somewhere warmer," she told him, and he believed her.

"Will there be pizza there?"

And the glare she gave him was too familiar to be unsettling, and his mind was too simple to be frightened by it.