Summer had come and gone. Fall brought changes both in nature and in the lives of students. For Heather and her friends, autumn meant that there would be a transition from junior high to high school. She was excited to begin this new phase of her life. Of her friend group, the other one who was the most excited was Snotlout. He was coming around Heather's home more, partially to avoid his overbearing father but mostly to spend time with the siblings. First, the boy had to go through a learning phase with them. Lesson one: do not flirt with Heather; it made her brother mad. Lesson two: do not joke about Dagur's eccentricities; it made his sister mad. Once those were learned, Snotlout began to really like them both and the feelings were mutual. So, he was spending another afternoon with the pair, playing a game of H.O.R.S.E. with Dagur while Heather was rereading her favorite story.

"High school is going to be so cool!" Snotlout exclaimed, tossing the ball into the hoop backwards. When he heard the swoosh of the net, he grinned. "Look at that! I can see it now. I'll have 'Jorgenson number one' right in the center of my jersey. Number one baby!" He spread out his arms. "The people in the bleachers will love me. They'll all be screaming my name with tears in their eyes."

The dark-haired boy felt the basketball bop him on the shoulder, bringing him out of his fantasy. Turning, he saw Dagur with a smirk.

"I'm going to tell them to scream 'Snothat' instead."

Snotlout's jaw dropped. "You wouldn't!"

"You're right," the redhead said, tapping his chin. "I'd probably just start it and it would spread like the wave."

Snotlout fought against a grin and tackled the older boy. They wrestled a bit as Dagur laughed wildly and Heather looked up from her book with a smile.

"At least you're going in with a friend already," she mentioned.

The shorter boy nodded as he was pinned to the floor. "Yeah! It'll make it way easier to fit in with the cool crowd."

Immediately, Dagur's laugh stopped. "What do you mean?"

"That you're one of the cool kids, so you can just introduce me to the others."

The redhead's smile faded and he got up from the ground. "Who told you that?"

"No one technically, but they didn't have to," Snotlout said, standing up as well. "I figured you'd either be in the cool and popular group or the rebellious group. I'm fine with being brought into either."

Dagur started to say something, then stopped. "You want to be popular, right?"

"Of course! Who doesn't?"

"Me," Heather chimed in.

"Rhetorical question," Snotlout said, rolling his eyes.

"Then, join one of the sports teams. They'd like you."

Snotlout thought about something. "You know what, I don't think you've ever mentioned being in one."

"I haven't because I'm not."

"Why not? You're athletic."

The redhead snarled and clenched his fists. "Because the players suck!"

Snotlout drew back a little. Dagur saw this and frowned at the grass. Heather peeked up again from her book.

"Someone on the football team was being a jerk and Dagur knocked him out."

"What did he say?"

Dagur glared at the basketball hoop. "Something I didn't like, but now, I'm not allowed on any team."

"That's okay," Snotlout assured him. "I'm still cool with that rebel group thing."

This did not make the other boy look happier. "When school starts, I'm going to avoid you."

Snotlout looked hurt. "Why? I'd mess up your rep?"

"No, that's not it."

"Then–"

"I'm giving you a heads up, so you're welcome. We can hang out afterwards like usual."

Snotlout looked at him in confusion, then at Heather for an answer. She did not have one for him. They were quiet for a moment until Dagur picked up the basketball again.

"I'm bored talking about this. Your turn, Snotknuckles."

Still confused, the boy caught the ball and they continued. When Oswald got home and called out the door for Dagur to collect the trash, Snotlout went over to Heather.

"What was that about? Are you ditching me too?"

"No, I'm not. I'm not really sure if he is either."

"That's what it sounded like to me. And what was that about that other player?"

Heather glanced towards the house, seeing Dagur climbing out of their father's bedroom window with trash bags. He slid off the roof and landed, putting the bags in the trash bin. Heather let out a sigh before looking back at her friend.

"The guy called him crazy."

Snotlout frowned. "I would've knocked him out too." He paused, turning to see the redhead riding down the driveway on the trash bins. "But…"

"Don't say it."

"I won't," the boy quickly said, then grimaced. "But…you know."

Heather frowned at him and Snotlout let out a nervous chuckle.

"Well, I think I'm going to head home. Promised Mom I'd help her peel the potatoes for tonight."

He headed to the front yard and waved goodbye to the redhead. When Dagur got back to Heather, she crossed her arms.

"Why are you avoiding him? Am I also going to get avoided?"

The boy looked away from her. "I haven't decided yet. I'll always be close, though. If someone picks on any of you, I'll handle it."

"We're not asking for you to be this invisible body guard."

"But I'd be really good at it!"

"Dagur," the girl said seriously, "what's the problem?"

Dagur felt nerves in his stomach and started jogging in place. "Nothing. Let's not talk about school. Today's our last day off. Wanna play one of my video games? I unlocked a new level. It's so gory. I'll go get it."

The redhead ran off before Heather could say anything else. After dinner, they played a couple of rounds before it got too late, then the girl went to bed. The next day, Heather was surprised to not see Dagur in the kitchen. Curiously, she went by his room and saw the door was open. The room itself was empty. With a frown, the girl returned to the kitchen and ate breakfast. Heather walked to school on her own. She did not realize how long the walk was when there was no one to talk to along the way. When she got to the high school, she waved to Snotlout and joined him on the walk to a classroom. Lunch came and she still saw no sign of her brother. Heather sat with her friends, but she could not really pay attention to them because she was busy trying to spot the redhead.

"Where is he?" she thought aloud.

"Maybe he's eating outside?" Snotlout offered.

"Maybe."

Unhappily, Heather finished lunch and decided to go wait near the room for her next class. This was the first one she had without Snotlout or anyone else she knew. A few people walked past her in the hallway, some giving friendly smiles. After a couple minutes, another few people showed up and stopped.

"You're new," one of them said, eyeing the girl.

"Yeah, just started today," she said.

"You're kinda cute."

Heather did not like the way the supposed compliment was given. One of the guys got closer and she stepped back, hands balling into a fist. Before they were needed, the boys' faces paled. All but one ran off. The one was not fast enough to stop as he was yanked forward. Dagur snarled at him and used his forearm to press into his chest, keeping him pinned against the classroom door.

"Tell the others," he said, voice threatening, "the freshmen are under my protection."

The other boy quickly nodded his head. "Sorry! W-we didn't know."

"You do now. Don't forget."

Dagur let go and the boy scurried off. Then, the redhead looked at Heather. He said nothing as more students filed down the hall. The boy disappeared in the crowd when the teacher came to unlock the door. After class was over, Heather saw the boys from earlier exiting another room, but they hurried off as soon as they saw her. Her next classes went well. On her way to the last class, another student approached her, telling her about some clubs they offered. Heather decided to go see what they had. She just wished that she could have spotted her brother beforehand to let him know why she was going home later. Snotlout caught up with her with a happy grin.

"I'm going for basketball tryouts! Wish me luck."

"Good luck," she said, smiling at the happy student.

Heather went to listen to all the options and was happy to hear that there was a book club. Again, the girl walked home on her own. When she got there, Dagur was still nowhere to be seen.

"Dad," she called, knocking on the door to his office.

"Yes, dear?"

"Have you seen Dagur?"

"No, I thought he would've been with you."

"I didn't walk with him today. Maybe he's outside."

Heather began walking to the door to check, but it swung open and she saw a flash of red go by her, then up the stairs.

"Dagur?"

The boy did not answer, but Heather followed him. He slid into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Heather stopped, feeling weird about waiting. The water was running and after a few minutes, Dagur left, grinning at her.

"How was your first day?"

"Fine," Heather said unsurely. "Thanks for the help with those guys."

"Don't mention it. I told you that I'd look out for you all."

"I know…where did you go afterwards? You didn't even walk with me. It was sort of lonely to go without you."

"Sorry," the boy said, eyes lowering. "I wasn't trying to make you sad. I just–"

He stopped as Heather stepped closer, a squint forming. The girl's gaze was analyzing and he turned away from her.

"Do you have a split lip?"

"Bit it."

"You bit it?" Heather asked doubtfully. "I don't think that's how most people bite themselves."

Dagur laughed. "Well, I'm not like most people. You know that."

Heather put a hand on his face and he removed it, pulling back. Her expression became worried.

"It looks like you're about to have a black eye too."

"I'm okay."

"How'd it happen?"

"I told you, I'm okay."

"Was it from those guys?"

"No, and stop asking me."

"I'm not going to stop. Who attacked you?"

Dagur turned red from embarrassment and growled. "Drop it!"

Heather held firm, frown staying plastered on her face. Briskly, the boy went outside to let out some steam. He stayed there until Heather went to bed. That school week went smoothly. The new students were enjoying their extracurriculars. Any night Heather did not have gymnastics practice, she got to bond with the club members. Snotlout was also having fun since he made tryouts. All in all, Heather was enjoying high school. Only, she would have enjoyed it more if she did not miss seeing her brother. He would come home late, head upstairs without speaking to anyone, then go outside after Heather and Oswald went to sleep. When the weekend came, the redhead was finally seen. He had a bruised cheek but spoke before Heather could make a comment.

"Hey!" he greeted brightly.

"Hey, I've missed you this week."

"Missed you too! Want to go skating or something?"

Heather was about to agree when she caught herself. "I can't. Some of the others from the club invited me to a fundraising event they're doing for the school."

Dagur's spirits sank. "Oh, okay." With hope, he asked, "What about tomorrow?"

"I was going to use tomorrow to get a head start on some assignments for next week." Heather saw how unhappy the boy looked and came up with an idea. "I bet the others are free."

"Good point! I'll text them."

The redhead hurried off to get his phone, but he was met with no more success. Snotlout was invited to hang out with the other players and the rest of their friends all were getting together either with someone new from school or were attending something associated with a club. This happened the next week as well. Then, the week after that. And then, the weeks after that. Having gotten dropped off by a new friend's mom, Heather waved goodbye and entered her home. As soon as she did, she heard her father's angry tone.

"...such a stupid thing," was what she came in on.

Cringing, Heather gently shut the door. She was not sure if she wanted to be loud enough to let them know she was home or to just creep into her room. The sounds were coming from the main living area. If she were quiet enough, she could probably go unnoticed.

"Heather," Oswald said, sighing, "how was your day?"

Reluctantly, the girl went over to where he was. She saw him standing near Dagur who was frowning at the floor. His hair looked messy and she could see some scratches on his arms.

"It was fine," she said quietly.

Oswald's smile for her fell as he pointed at Dagur. "Your brother decided it was a good plan to put graffiti on the gym ceiling. I still don't even understand how you got up there."

"Well, it wasn't too tricky after I–"

"Your method isn't important," the man stated, exasperated. "You shouldn't have done it."

Heather looked at her brother, seeing his upset expression. "Why did you?"

Dagur shrugged. "I was bored. The tree needs a break if I want it to last through this winter."

Oswald put a hand over his face, groaning. "The principal wants you to clean it." His hand lowered and his eyes began to twinkle. "If you're so bored, you can find a way to fill your time like Heather and your friends have been."

"What would I be doing?" the boy asked, already feeling like he did not like this plan. "I'm not in a club."

"There's a student who…has been struggling. I want you to tutor him."

Dagur tensed. "Do you know his name?"

"Ansson."

The boy turned ashen. "Ansson? You want me to tutor Ansson?"

"Yes, is that a problem?"

Dagur let out a scornful laugh. "As many years as he's been held back, he could probably have graduated from a doctorate program!"

"All the more reason he would benefit from help."

"He doesn't care about school. He would've asked for a tutor years ago."

"It doesn't matter if he doesn't care. It just matters that you aren't getting into trouble."

"Nobody got hurt. It was just a bit of spray paint. When I clean it, it'll be like it never happened."

"That doesn't matter either."

Dagur stomped his foot. "He hates me and I hate him too."

"You shouldn't hate people."

"Doesn't change the fact that I do."

"Dagur, I've made my decision. Unless Ansson declines the offer, you'll be his tutor."

Briefly, an unreadable emotion flashed in the boy's eyes, then it became anger and he stormed away to his room. Heather went off after him, getting there just before he could close the door. Dagur saw her and reluctantly kept it open for her to enter.

"What was that about?" she asked. "You normally love proving that you're right about something. Wouldn't tutoring be perfect for that?"

The boy went over to his mirror and started fixing his hair. "I don't want to do it. He'd be a bad student." His face brightened and he poked his head out the door. "What if I tutor Snotlout?"

"Ansson. I'm already calling the school."

Grumbling, Dagur reentered the room. "He's insufferable."

"Ansson or Dad?"

"Both!"

The girl watched as he cleaned the scratches on his right arm. When she got closer, he moved further away.

"I'm fine," he said quietly.

"Is Ansson the one doing this?"

Dagur did not respond to her, instead focusing on the first aid.

"He is, isn't he?"

"Don't you have a book club meeting to go to?" Dagur asked, a bitter tone concealing an unhappy one.

Heather saw through this and crossed her arms. "Just because I've been busy this semester doesn't mean I don't care."

The redhead still did not look at her. "I don't want to talk right now. I've got to head back to the school to clean up the paint."

Sighing, Heather started to leave. She stopped just as she reached the door.

"What did you spray paint anyway?"

Dagur glanced at her. "A hunter with a knife."

Heather chuckled. "I should've expected something like that."

She left the room, but her thoughts did not leave her brother. He left soon afterwards to clean up the paint. When the boy returned, he got the news that the school had told Oswald that Ansson could be tutored by the redhead. It was scheduled for the next evening after school. They would go straight from the academy to the older boy's house. Dagur considered skipping, but that would just push the day back, not fix the problem entirely. When class was over, Dagur watched as Heather went with Astrid to gymnastics practice. Unhappily, the boy waited for the other student. The wait was not long and he soon saw a larger redhead approach after leaving the locker room.

"So, you actually waited," Ansson commented disbelievingly.

"I don't run." Keeping his eye on the other individual, Dagur began to turn towards the door. "I drove here, so I'll follow you to your place."

Ansson shook his head. "No, I'll drive us both."

"I'm not getting in the car with you."

"You just have a provisional license, so there are hours you're not allowed to drive. I've got a full one. By the time you're headed home, it'll be too late, but I'll give you a ride to your place and you can drive home after walking to the school tomorrow."

Dagur frowned at him. "I won't be there that long. We'll go through a few of the trickier subjects, then I'm out."

Ansson stepped closer and the boy puffed up. He got shoved roughly into the locker and when the larger student brought back his hands, Dagur's eyes widened. Ansson had taken a knife off him and wiggled it between his fingers.

"A knife on school property? Very bad, Dainty. Planning on killing someone? If I tell someone about this, you'll get expelled. Your pops would be so ashamed of you, but he's probably just counting down the day until it happens."

Dagur tried to snatch back the weapon but was elbowed in the gut. "I didn't bring it here to hurt anyone," he said, grimacing.

"But who would they believe?" The youth stopped talking, a grin spreading over his face. He turned his head. "Principal–"

"Stop," Dagur said, defeated. "Fine."

Content, Ansson put an arm around his shoulders. "Good. I think I'll keep this. You've always got cool things."

They went out to the parking lot and got into the car. Dagur anxiously kept his eyes on the driver, nearly expecting him to make them crash out of spite. While one hand stayed on the wheel, Ansson let the other one hold the knife. He frequently looked at the pale passenger, but when the ride became too silent, he pressed the knife against his throat. Dagur stopped breathing and his heart started beating faster. Ansson lifted an eyebrow at him.

"You're quiet today, Dainty. No weird laughing? Come on, I know you've got one in you."

"I…d-don't think this is funny," the boy said nervously.

"You never laugh when you should. Why should now be different? Laugh."

Dagur felt more pressure be applied to the knife and he forced out a laugh. It became genuine as more nerves filled him. Amused, Ansson lowered the weapon.

"You freak," he insulted. "Who'd laugh at a time like this?"

He chuckled to himself until they reached the building. Dagur eagerly exited the vehicle, but he was not looking forward to entering the home either. They went to the living room of the house and Ansson plopped on a sofa.

"Folks will be out late tonight," he said.

"Lucky me," Dagur grumbled. He began setting out some books. "What's giving you the most trouble?"

"You."

Dagur looked up from the textbooks to see a glare on Ansson's face. "Uh, I was talking about in school."

"Still you."

The boy frowned and pointed at the books. "Well, I can't do anything about that. I'm just here to help you with some classes, so how about you pick one, we work on it, then I leave because we clearly can't stand each other."

Ansson's scowl did not leave his face. "I don't want to learn from you. I should've graduated already. I could be in college by now, but I'm stuck here." He pointed and stood up angrily. "How are you moving up the grades each year like it's nothing? You? A little weirdo with a malfunctioning brain is a junior with me?"

Dagur's eyes lowered slightly and his cheeks burned. Suddenly, the young man grabbed him by the front of his shirt. Dagur hit Ansson's hands to make him let go, but the grip did not lessen. A dangerous glare was on the other redhead's face.

"Your brain doesn't work right," he snarled. "You're worse than an idiot. You're an idiot who's also a lunatic. It's not fair that your dad's loaded and can pay off teachers to move you up grades while I don't go anywhere."

"Dad never–"

Dagur stopped talking as a punch went into his stomach. It knocked the wind out of him and was followed by several more. The boy reached for another knife he had but stopped himself. If he took it out, he might lose control. He was not sure if he would be able to prevent himself from really causing some damage. Doing that would embarrass his family. His indecision made it easier for Ansson to continue the attack with kicks, headbutts, knees, and slashes with his new knife. When the attacker was less furious, he spat at the boy and dragged him out of the house by his hair. Ansson opened up the trunk of his car and threw him in. Dagur felt groggy and dazed, but when the trunk door closed, he felt panicked. He did not know where they were going or if he would just be left there indefinitely. He was also beginning to wonder if he was claustrophobic because it seemed like the tight space was suffocating him. Muffled sounds could be heard from the trunk as the boy kicked and yelled. Eventually, the car stopped and the door opened. Ansson pulled him up by the neck before he could move and delivered more blows to his head. He stopped when the redhead's body went limp.

"Told ya I'd drop you off, Dainty."

Dagur was dropped to the ground and faintly heard as the car drove away. After a few hours, another car came up. Heather was getting dropped off by Mrs. Hofferson and waved to her friends.

"See you in class," she said, smiling.

"Bye, Heather!"

With a smile, the girl began heading up the driveway. She stopped as she heard a shuffle behind the trash bin. Curiously, Heather began to creep over to see if there was a raccoon or an opossum causing the noise. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw her brother's bruised and bloodied body.

"Dagur!" she cried.

The boy barely heard her. He was trying to get to his feet. He had been trying ever since Ansson left but kept stumbling back down. It was not until Heather caught his arm, stopping him from hitting the ground again, that he realized she was there.

"Heather?" he asked, feeling like he was hallucinating. "Wh-why are you here?"

"This is our driveway."

Dagur turned to look up at the house, seeing that she was right. Heather worriedly began helping him walk to the front door.

"I can walk…"

"Let me help," she finished.

Dagur would have protested more, but everything hurt so badly. When they got inside, she led him to a seat. Then, Heather went to get some cloths and some water. Dagur reached for one cloth, but Heather pulled it back.

"I said let me help," she repeated.

The boy pouted and she began to rinse the cuts. There were so many more than the last time. She used a different cloth to dab with them hydrogen peroxide. Just before applying this, the girl looked at her brother with an apologetic expression.

"This'll sting. Sorry."

"Not more than what put them there."

Heather kept a frown from her face and began treating the wounds. She saw how the boy's face was red and he did not look at her.

"This was Ansson, wasn't it?" she asked. "Was it him the other times too?"

Dagur turned a deeper red. "Can we talk about something else please?"

"No, we can't," Heather said, putting some ointment on his right cheek. "You didn't want to talk about this before and it just happened again."

"It wouldn't have helped if we talked about it."

Dagur grimaced and let out a low groan. Concern covered Heather's face.

"What just happened?"

"Nothing."

"Dagur," she chastised.

The boy sighed. "My head. It really feels bad."

Heather undid his braid to check for a visible injury. She felt some warmth and gasped as she saw blood. Her own blood was boiling, but her rage needed to be quelled for the time being. Dagur did not need her to be angry, just for her to be there. She began cleaning this as well before wrapping a bandage around the wound. When she was done, she went and got some pain medicine as well as a water bottle.

"Thanks," Dagur said quietly, accepting the items.

The pain medicine would be very helpful and he wanted it to work faster. Heather looked at the boy in worry. She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped. The brunette angrily began walking away.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get Dad."

"He's probably busy working. Don't bother him."

"Then, I'm calling the police."

Dagur's eyes widened. "You can't do that."

"Yes, I can," she stated, frowning. "Ansson can't get away with this. If he really got held back a lot, he's an adult. So, this was technically an assault on a minor."

The redhead looked horrified. "If you tell someone, it'll just cause a problem. Everyone will think I started it."

"No one's going to think that."

"Yes, they will! People always think I'm doing something I shouldn't." Dagur's hands kept balling into fists and releasing. Finally, he let out a furious yell. "I'm sick of this!"

The boy rose from the chair and started going upstairs. His head was still fuzzy and he misjudged where the step was. Heather helped steady him and was surprised by what she saw. Dagur looked so sad. She was used to him being excited or angry. Those were the most common emotions for him, but at that moment, he just looked ashamed and devastated. Carefully, Heather guided him to the sofa. Dagur did not resist this time and laid back, closing his eyes to make the room stop seeming so blurry. Heather sat in the chair near him.

"What do you mean?" she asked gently. "Sick of Ansson?"

After a sigh, Dagur answered. "Sick of everything. Me especially."

The girl frowned at this. "Why?"

"Because I can't escape myself. Everywhere I go, I'm just this weirdo who people are scared of or target. It's always one of the two," he admitted, the edges of his mouth curving down. "Ansson's not the only one or the first. It's always been like this. Everyone calls me 'crazy' behind my back and 'freak' to my face."

Heather paused. "Is this why you didn't want to be around any of us when we first got to high school? You didn't want us to know?"

"Well, I didn't, but that's not why. I didn't want to mess you up. Snotty wanted to be popular so much. Even if you and the others don't care about all that, I don't want you to be associated with me. People would just think there's something wrong with you too. So, I have to stay away from you when people who know me are around. Otherwise, they'll think your brains are like mine and don't work."

Hearing this made Heather's heart ache. She could hear the hurt in the boy's voice. Leaning forward, she held his hand.

"Your brain works, Dagur."

"It doesn't work right."

"What's right?" Heather questioned. "There's no perfect answer for how people should be."

"There's a pretty good answer for how people shouldn't be." Dagur paused. "I don't even know what it is that makes everyone think I'm so messed up. I know my laugh weirds them out, but that's the only thing I know ahead of time that'll make someone side-eye me. I wish I knew what else did. I'd try to stop doing it."

"I'm glad you don't know."

The boy opened his eyes and turned to his sister with a hurt look. "Why would you say that? I'd give anything to be like you and Dad."

"I'm glad because then you wouldn't be like yourself."

"That's the point."

"I like who you are," Heather said sincerely. "So do our friends."

Dagur's voice got quiet. "I scare them sometimes. I've seen how they'll back away from me."

"It doesn't mean they care about you any less and you've never seen me back away."

The boy paused. "No, I haven't."

"Because I don't think you're a freak and you don't scare me."

Looking at Heather, the redhead had an unsure but hopeful expression. "Promise?"

"Promise."

A small smile spread over the boy's face. He closed his eyes again, feeling the headache making him tired. Before it caused too much fatigue, he spoke again.

"Thanks for patching me up."

"Of course."

"But could you not call anyone? I don't think they'd view me like you do and I don't want Dad to be disappointed."

The girl hesitated. She was about to say that she had to contact someone when an idea came to mind.

"I won't call the cops," she said.

"Thanks."

With a nod, Heather got quiet so that her brother could rest. She went to get one of her books and stayed on the chair near him. Even if she drifted off to sleep, she would be able to hear in case he woke up in the middle of the night in a daze. By morning, Heather saw that she had overestimated her hearing. Dagur was already gone. Sighing, she went to get ready for the day. School went well and like it usually did with not seeing the redhead. Despite what Heather had said, Dagur still did not want to ruin anything for her. She deserved to have friends. He would be a bad brother if he sabotaged her just because he got lonely from time to time. Unfortunately, lonely people are so easy to target. Like usual, the boy could not get to the exit before Ansson caught up to him.

"Back for more, Dainty?" he taunted, grabbing the boy's arm and pulling him into an empty classroom.

Dagur glared at him, trying to find a way around the other redhead. To his surprise, he saw the door open again.

"What's going on here?" Heather asked.

She entered the room, scowling at Ansson. The young man raised an eyebrow at her.

"Nothing you want any part of."

"It is if you're planning on hurting my brother."

"Brother? I feel bad for you to be related to this psycho."

Heather went over to Dagur, standing between him and the bully. "That's pretty bold talk since you attacked him just for trying to tutor you. You could've given Dagur a concussion."

"It's nothing I haven't done before. Nothing I won't do again. I just didn't do it very well this last time. He was good enough to come to school today, so next time, I'll break his arm too." The redhead stopped a moment as a sinister grin spread over his face. "Or maybe I'll just do that now."

"I don't think the principal would like to watch you attacking another student."

"The principal's not here."

Heather lifted up her hand, revealing that she was holding her phone. "Say hi, Ansson. This entire interaction has been on video. You won't need more tutoring after this. I'd say this is grounds for expulsion."

Ansson turned pale and quickly left the classroom. When he was gone, Dagur hugged Heather. She smiled and hugged him back.

"Now," she said with a twinkle in her eyes, "I spoke with Snotlout and he found this extreme skate park. He thinks it would be fun if we went there tomorrow. Are you up for it?"

"Yeah!" the boy said excitedly. Suddenly, his smile fell. "What about you two hanging out with club members and teammates?"

"They're great too, but it's not like we have to be around them every Saturday. We still need our Dagur time."

This caused a thrilled laugh to come out of the redhead. He excitedly bounced on his feet. Heather held up her pointer finger.

"There's one condition."

"There is?" Dagur asked, looking confused.

"I want you to stop avoiding us at school. That means you won't just be a ghost protector and you'll take your spot at the lunch table with us." Before he could argue, she continued. "I talked with the others. None of us is scared of what the other students might say."

"For real? Are they sure they don't care about that?"

Heather nodded. "Positive. What do you say?"

Dagur smiled brightly at her. "All right, I'm in!"

Gleefully, the siblings began leaving the school and enjoying the return of their walks home.