Fred wasn't really an anxious child. He was frequently confused and overwhelmed by the world, but rarely anxious. If there was a problem, he either found a way to fix it, or he learned how to ignore it.
Sometimes the world around him was too loud, and too big, and it was like his brain stopped working, but Fred had never really felt like it was anxiety. He wasn't scared or uncertain of being left on his own for days on end, not hearing a word from his parents. It made him upset, and he definitely felt like just shutting everything out, but it didn't make him anxious.
Sometimes though Fred wondered if he was supposed to be nervous. Like now.
It was just a few weeks before he and Daphne were going into sixth grade and finally starting middle school. For the first time Fred was actually looking forward to school. He'd been wanting to go to middle school before he had even started first grade. Frederick was a teacher there, and Fred could finally have a teacher who knew how to help him learn. He wouldn't just give up on Fred and think he was lazy because he struggled with the homework.
Fred hadn't considered that middle school was anything to be afraid of, but then Daphne started to ask her sisters about what middle school was like, and the more she heard the more nervous she got. Fred still wasn't nervous, but he felt confused. If Daphne was nervous, did that mean he was supposed to be too? She was so much smarter than him, and she wouldn't get nervous about nothing.
When Fred got his schedule and info packet from the school he stared at it blankly, not really understanding what he was seeing. He didn't think he felt anxious, but he was confused and a little numb. He'd been going to the same school for six years, and every year he got a little lost and confused about having to go to a new classroom. It took him months to get used to the new location, decoration, and teacher.
This year he was going to a new building. He had six new classes. Six new teachers. How was he supposed to keep track of all of them?
Fred started to feel nervousness creep onto him. Before he could properly process that fear, his parents, who were home early for once, sat down with him to talk about school, and Fred blanked out during the whole conversation. He could understand the words being said to him, but it was like the meaning wasn't processing in his brain. By the time Fred figured out what he'd been told, they'd already started telling him something else, and he just grew more and more lost.
They were talking about how important it was that he keep his grades up. That he wasn't a little kid anymore and needed to be responsible for his schoolwork. That was where they lost him, because Fred was just confused. Did they think he wasn't trying? That he didn't work on his schoolwork for hours every single Sunday? That more often than not he had to bring assignments that they'd done in class home so he could redo them because they just hadn't been good enough? What did they think he was doing?
His parents said a few more things about school, but it all went in one ear and out the other. Fred just stared at the map of the school, trying to make heads or tails of it. He only started paying attention again when he heard the word 'soccer', because he was confused about why they would suddenly start talking about sports? Weren't they talking about school?
"Huh?" Fred looked at his dad in confusion. Brad just sighed in a familiar disappointment. Fred couldn't remember the last time his dad hadn't been disappointed in him.
"Soccer, Sport." Brad said. "You need to find out when try-outs are. You've been playing the game long enough. I expect you to make the team."
"O-oh." Fred looked back at the map again. He didn't want to play soccer in school. It was much more serious, and had a lot more pressure, and Frederick wouldn't be the coach. Fred didn't even know if he could play soccer without Frederick there, but he knew there was no point in saying as much to his dad.
His parents were never around, but they still decided everything in his life. They chose all of his classes for him. He hadn't even known that choosing at least some of his classes was even an option until Daphne asked if he had decided to take an art class. Fred had never drawn much, but Daphne had helped him to realize that he could express his thoughts through a visual medium easier than he could through his words.
Fred would have liked to take an art class, but he didn't get a say. Instead he was signed up for Spanish and Engineering. He didn't even understand what Engineering even meant, but it was what his parents wanted him to do, so it was where he was going. He just hoped the class wouldn't be too hard.
After what felt like forever Fred was sent off to bed. His legs felt a little like jelly and he didn't really want to move them, but more than that he didn't want to be around his parents. He stumbled a bit as he went upstairs and went into his bedroom. He felt a little numb as he closed the door and sat at the edge of the bed. He looked at the schedule and map in his hand, too overwhelmed to really feel anxious about it.
Fred was looking without really understanding what he was seeing. About ten minutes later he noticed something weird, and it pulled him back into focus. He dropped the map and stared intently at his schedule, carefully examining every word to make sure he hadn't missed something. No, he was reading this right.
According to his schedule, his history teacher was Breanna Stewart. Not Frederick Jones
Fred felt his anxiety spike at the realization. This was the whole reason he had been fine with going to middle school. The reason why he hadn't really been nervous about all of the classes he would be taking. It was hard to be scared when his greatest supporter was just a few hallways down, or if he was going to see him later that day.
Maybe Fred's parents forgot that Frederick was a history teacher at the middle school. Or maybe they didn't consider how much Fred needed the man's support.
Fred took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. He was spiraling, and he knew that when he did he was supposed to talk to someone. Sometimes he talked to Daphne, because she understood feelings much better than he did. Today he needed to talk to Frederick. If anybody could talk him through this, or could fix the problem, it would be him.
Fred called the familiar number. He relaxed as soon as it was picked up.
"Fred, are you okay?" Frederick got right to the point. Neither of them liked to bother with phone etiquette, so when it was just them they didn't. "Is something wrong?"
"School." Fred said. "Mom and Dad want me to do better this year. I don't know how to do better."
He heard Frederick take a deep breath. The man did that a lot when Fred talked about his parents. "I know you can't see it, and you don't believe me, but you have been doing much better."
Fred had heard the man say this kind of thing all the time, and he didn't know how he felt about it. Frederick didn't lie to him, and he seemed to understand things about Fred that he didn't know how to understand about himself. But Fred couldn't really see how he had changed, let alone improved these past several years. He felt the same as ever.
"There will be a lot of changes this school year." Frederick said. "It'll take you time to get used to it, but I'll be here to help you figure it out. And Daphne will be right there with you."
"But what if we don't take the same classes?" Fred asked. He knew from watching Frederick's classes that he taught multiple classes, even kids in the same grade. It was possible that Fred didn't share any classes with Daphne. The last time he'd gone through a school year without her, he was held back.
"You'll probably have some classes without her." Frederick said slowly. "But I can talk to the administrators and make sure you at least have the same lunch."
Fred fiddled with his sleeve. "Can you get me switched into a different class? My schedule says you're not my history teacher."
Frederick was quiet for a long moment, and Fred felt like he'd said something wrong. "Freddie, I won't be working at the middle school next year."
Fred felt like his heart stopped. He drew his legs close to his chest, wishing he had Tyler here. "You won't?" His voice cracked.
"I was given a job offer." Frederick said. "I'm going to be the principal at the High School starting next year."
"But you said you'd be my teacher when I go to middle school." Fred said. "You said you'd be there."
"I'm sorry, Fred, but plans change." Frederick was trying to be gentle, but Fred had heard this kind of thing before. This was similar to the way his parents talked to him when they had to be away for the weekend, or when they had to miss an event of his. They apologized, said 'maybe next time', and went on with their lives, because their jobs and plans were more important than his.
Fred didn't want to compare Frederick to his parents. He was so much better than them. He'd always been there. But he wasn't going to be now. Frederick had a job opportunity, and he was taking it without a second thought. Why shouldn't he? Fred was surprised it hadn't happened earlier.
This was just what grown-ups did. They only thought about their jobs, and their reputations. Nothing else mattered to them. Fred had thought that Frederick was different, but he just hadn't had the opportunity or situation come up and showed the truth. Now it had.
"Y-you said…you said…" Fred's mouth wasn't finding the words that his brain wanted to say. "What about my safe space?" For years Fred had considered Frederick's classroom to be a sanctuary of sorts. If Fred got sick, or if school was too much for him, he would go to the middle school and Frederick would always be right there to make sure he was okay. Fred didn't usually need his help in that way, but he didn't like the thought of not even having the option.
"Fred, don't you think you're big enough to handle school by yourself?" Frederick asked. He sounded tired.
He sounded like Fred's dad. Like he was trying to be patient and kind, but Fred had pushed him too far without trying, and all of a sudden the boy was finding out about expectations that he was failing to meet that he didn't even know about.
Fred let out a sobbing sound. He slammed a hand over his mouth and dropped the phone to try to keep from being heard. It didn't work. He heard Frederick say something, but the words didn't quite come through. His tone was stern and a little harsh.
Fred thought that Frederick was probably asking if he was okay, or trying to talk him through his distress as he usually did. But Fred still didn't want to hear it. He was hurt by what Frederick had done. He was numb from the way his parents were treating him. He didn't want to be comforted or reassured by any grown-ups right now, because their empty promises only lasted as long as nothing better came along.
Fred blocked the whole thing out, but then he heard Frederick say that he was coming over. For the first time, Fred didn't want to see Frederick. He didn't want to see any lying grown-ups. He didn't really stop to think. He just acted.
Fred ran out of the room and crept downstairs, past the kitchen where his parents were talking. They didn't notice him. They never did. Fred snuck outside, not even noticing that he wasn't wearing his shoes until he was halfway down the street. By that time he just didn't want to turn back around and go home. He would rather risk hurting his feet than turn back.
Fred had no idea where he was going. He just walked, feeling the need to keep moving. He only stopped when he realized that he had no idea where he was. He didn't know how to get home. He didn't even know if he wanted to go home, but where else was he supposed to go? Frederick's house? Fred didn't want to see him either.
He choked on a sob and just sat on the sidewalk. What was he supposed to do? He didn't even have his phone on him. He'd left it behind because he hadn't wanted to hear from Frederick, and he hadn't thought of the obvious idea to just hang up his phone and take it with him. He was lost, and alone, and he didn't even know if he wanted to be found.
"Hey, man, are you okay?" Fred stiffened when he heard a boy's voice. He turned to see a kid about his age, a dog at his side. There was no judgement in the boy's eyes. He just looked curious and concerned.
"I'm fine." Fred wiped his eyes. "Grown-ups are just dumb." The boy nodded in understanding and sat on the ground next to him. His dog came between them and rested its head against Fred's shoulder. He smiled and pet the dog.
"I get that." The boy said. "My parents want me to be this perfect kid. Like, if I want a snack, I have to make it myself, which is fine, except they want me to make it just right. If it's not perfect, I don't get to eat it. And I love eating. Way more than just what my Mom makes. So I've kinda had to learn how to cook."
Fred looked at the boy. Frederick had told him that it wasn't normal for kids his age to know how to make their own food beyond just the very basics. This boy knew though. So was it normal? Or was the boy just as weird as he was?
"What about you?" The boy asked. Fred shrugged.
"My parents are getting on my case about school." He said. "They're never home, and the only time they care about me is when they want to tell me how much of a failure I am." Fred wrapped his arms around his legs. "I've tried to be better, but I guess I'm not like you." The boy was learning how to cook just right so that he would be allowed to eat what he wanted. If Fred's parents told him that he couldn't eat unless it was something they made, or something he made perfectly, then he would have starved years ago.
"And my uncle is a liar." Fred clutched his knees tighter. He didn't really see Frederick as his uncle, but the man referred to himself that way whenever he had to explain the nature of their relationship to people. "He was supposed to be my teacher when I got to middle school. But then he got a new job, and he won't be there for me."
Fred realized how selfish and childish he sounded. He groaned and hid his face in his hands. "I'm being stupid."
"That's okay." The boy said. "I think it's okay to be stupid sometimes, even if my parents say it's not."
"I don't want to be mad at him." Fred said. "Maybe I'm not. It's just…I'd just finished talking to my parents, and then he sounded just like them." If Frederick had given Fred this news when he wasn't already overwhelmed, Fred would have at least listened to him. He would have been upset, but he would have been willing to listen. He would have gotten over it eventually.
And Frederick was right. Fred should be old enough to handle going to school without someone there to hold his hand all the time. He just didn't know how. Frederick was really good at teaching him things though. Maybe he could help Fred Learn. There was still a little bit of time before school started.
"Are you going to go to Crystal Cove middle school?" The boy asked. Fred nodded, and the boy smiled. "Cool. Me too. Maybe we'll be in the same classes."
Fred perked up. "And then we can talk about how stupid we are." As soon as the words left his mouth he realized that really wasn't what he'd meant to say. He'd just meant that they could remind each other that they didn't need to be the perfect son that their parents wanted them to be. The boy didn't make fun of him or give him a weird look for what he'd said. He just laughed and held out his hand.
"My parents call me Norville." The boy said. "But when they're not around I like to be called Shaggy."
"I'm Fred." He shook Shaggy's hand.
"And this is Scooby Doo." Shaggy pet his dog. "He's going to be at school with me. He's really good at calming me down when I start freaking out. He can help you too, if you want."
"I'd like that." Fred pet the dog again. He was still overwhelmed at the thought of school, but he didn't feel that numb blankness anymore. It was an improvement, even if he still felt bad. He felt good enough to at least go home. That was, if he knew where he was.
"I don't know how to get home." Fred sighed. "Who runs off without even thinking about how to get back?"
"Don't worry about it." Shaggy stood up and helped Fred to his feet too. "Scooby here is the best tracker I know. If your house smells like you, he should be able to find it if you don't live too far away."
"I don't think I live that far." Fred said. He hadn't paid attention to how far he went, but he thought his feet would hurt more if he'd walked for more than fifteen minutes. "You don't have to help me."
"I don't mind." Shaggy said. "Let's go before my parents realize that Scooby's walk is taking longer than normal." Fred couldn't argue with that when he really did appreciate the help, so the two boys set off, following Scooby's lead. The dog was leading them down the streets, seeming to know exactly where he was going.
Things were just starting to look familiar to Fred when a car pulled up next to them. Shaggy flinched slightly and grabbed Fred's arm, pulling him back. The boy wasn't afraid though. He knew this was no stranger. Sure enough when the driver stepped out he saw Frederick Jones, his face full of relief and lingering fear. Fred felt bad for worrying him.
"Freddie." Frederick came towards him. "Are you okay?" The man looked him over very quickly, his gaze lingering on the boy's bare feet. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"
"Sorry." Fred said. He rubbed his arm. "And I'm sorry for getting upset."
"Don't be." Frederick brushed Fred's hair away from his face. "You have a lot of experience with grown-ups prioritizing their work over your feelings, don't you?"
Fred's face got scrunched up as he felt a wave of exhaustion and sadness come over him. He was so tired. "Can I stay with you tonight?"
"I think that would be a good idea." Frederick said. "We can go over your schedule together. I may not be there at the school with you, but I can make sure you're as prepared as you can be."
Fred didn't want to think about school anymore, but he knew that if he wasn't ready for it, then when it started he would be completely lost. He nodded. "Okay." He turned to Shaggy and gave him a little wave. "I'll see you at school. And thanks." Shaggy nodded and waved goodbye before turning and making his way back home.
Fred and Frederick got in the car. They drove for a minute before Frederick cleared his throat and looked at Fred. "I hope you know that I didn't mean to say that you shouldn't have a safe space at the school." Frederick said. "I can talk to the school counselor and all of your teachers about what you might need. And you can still call me, no matter what. I might be a little busy sometimes, and won't be able to get to you right away, but I'll always come eventually."
Fred nodded. "I know you will." Frederick had already proved that much to him. Fred still didn't know if he could trust adults, because they all did dumb things and refused to admit it. But Frederick admitted when he was wrong. So maybe Fred had been right about him and he really was different.
Fred supposed he could at least give him a chance. After all these years, and all he'd done for Fred, he deserved that much.