I don't need your assistance, 
Any problem I got I just put my fist in
My life is violent but violent is life
Peace is a dream, reality is a knife

Colors ~ Ice T

💀💀💀

Tuesday ~ October 9th

After almost a week of walking around in the bulky black brace, May claims she feels well enough to walk on her own now. Electing to forgo wearing the encumbrance in favor of her new stomping boots. But instead of celebrating this newfound freedom with a walk in the park after dark? We elect to hit Study Buddies after school, just to be on the safe side.

No thanks to Or'sir, I have more than my fair share of a few hours to kill. But mostly because I don't want May walking on her leg too long. Regardless of the crazy cool stomping boots she is rocking today.  

After the last Study Buddies with Butchy, I always check now to make sure that Cliffboard is back in full effect. So we don't have a repeat of the fun I had Butchering English thanks to Fuzzo the flocking clown. After stamping us in, I wraith May back to our usual spot. Our semi-private corner carrel in the front enclave, where the glass comes together in a square fishbowl.

May settles into her seat at the end of the table against the window, where she can enjoy the feel the sunlight on her skin. I take up my usual station kitty-corner to her. Where from my vantage point behind the glass, I can see almost every direction out in front of the library. In order to keep a sharp eye out for Someone's Sister, whenever she shows up to get May.

After dropping into my usual spot, I check out the view through the library fishbowl windows. Out through the thick glass, I spot that freshmeat kid Polanski from swimming day. Oddly lurking around with Chad's little brother "Corky" Collins in the Quad. I only know Chad's idiot brother Corky in passing, as he was on the closing shift at the Plunge. But I am pretty sure he was the one that was supposed to do the drain checks at closing.

I watch them chatting up a couple of guys, who I assume are trying to pass for the serious swimming crowd. A group of lame lappers who call themselves the San Fall Sharks. Cause after all Falcons aren't waterfowl, so what else were they gonna call themselves?   

It's a pretty safe bet that these guys are the school swimming studs. Seeing most of them are abnormally tanned and lanky looking with fly wing shoulders. But more telling to me is the light gangrene tint to their hair. Which is always a dead giveaway for someone who spends a lot of time in chlorinated pool pee water. As the shiver of Sharks heads into the Other Library for detention, I chalk all of these all these idiots up to whatever. Unfortunately, I dismiss them from my radar way too soon.

Of course, May and I aren't actually doing any real homework today. But rather we are discussing this Friday's date night, and which potential pizza might be suited best for the showing of The Graduate. May is pushing hard for a traditional thin crust New York style double pepperoni. While I am extolling the many virtues of the greater calzone style pie. Which is right about when the next flock of unwanted clowns makes their unwelcomed appearance at Study Buddies.

"Well lookie here boys. If it isn't Princess Pee Pee, the king of the toilet bowl?" Corky Collins oozes up into our corner carrel. "I've been looking around for you, Princess."

I rotate around slowly and stare Corky down. It's immediately clear to me as winter water that this isn't just some casual run-in. Because not only can I not stand his douchey big brother, but I barely know this guy? Not to mention, the fact that this guy and I haven't said word one to each other in passing since school started. But all of the sudden he is looking for me? not to mention with freshmeat Polanski and four more of his lapper buddies in tow, filing in the carrel behind him? 

Yeah, I'm thinking that this is now going to be a thing. But even worse I have May with me.

"I thought you weren't long for San Fall, beach boy? What happened Princess, problems at home?" Corky smirks even wider, for the benefit of his buddies amusement.  

I don't bother responding to this veiled reference to whatever? Because it's becoming increasingly clear to me that Corky has come trolling for something. When I don't take the bait at whatever he is chumming for, he throws some more bad blood in the water.  

"So I heard you're still working winter down at the Annex with Joe Black, with all the rest of the retards." He laughs hard at his own joke, something that is clearly a genetic defect among the Collins kids.  

"It's Blake not Black, you racist retard." I eye bone him right back.

"Riiiight Blake." Corky drones playing up to his cohorts who all smirk back. "So Princess, this here is Kirk Moran and you already know Brad's little brother Bobby. They co-captain the school's swim teams this year." He informs me of the identities of his main henchmen like I give a whit. "I captain the water polo team of course."

"And I'm to flocking busy to give a whit." I shrug off the introductions.

Primarily because I don't care and I want to see where he is heading with all this whit. And seriously, what is it with me and the little brothers in San Fall? Butchy and Busty, Chad and Corky, now Brad and Bobby? I almost can't wait to butt heads with Buzzard's little brother Bird Turd, if he has one? So I can complete the trifecta of sibling rivalry for stupidity in San Fall.

"So I heard from Polanski here, that Princess thinks he's is pretty fast in the water. What do you think boys, should we let him try out for one of the teams? See if he can cut it with the Sharks?" Corky smirks again, probably just because smirking is the extent of his limited IQ.

"Not interested, so blaze off before you piss me off." I wave them away and turn back to May. Who by the frown on her face is growing increasingly concerned at the direction this hostile interaction is headed.

"Not interested, huh?" Corky snorts in the local custom. "So why don't you excuse yourself from your little girlfriend here? Then come out and have a little chat with us outside? So we can talk all about what you are interested in?" 

"Sorry about this May, you were saying something important about walking down to meet the Three Amigos? Right before Mini Midnight and the four assholes of the Apocalypse interrupted us." I heavily emphasize over to May. 

Which I am hoping to hell that she gets the not-so-subtle message. The message being, I am way outnumbered and that this thing with Corky is about to go very sideways very fast. So she should stay very far out of the way as possible.

"No need to be sorry, Dare." May intones coldly. "Do what you need to do,"

"Excuse me Batgirl, but I wasn't finished talking to Princess Dean yet." Corky hips up on the table between us and sneers down at me.  

May's reaction to the incursion into her space is immediate and apprehensive. As she pulls away from the table and back into herself, crossing her arms over her chest. It's the reaction of someone who's afraid of getting hit ...and I hate it. I seriously hate the fact that this asshole has made her even slightly fearful, or that he called her Batgirl. I know that I've extolled to her that she needs to own this moniker? So while it's true she does need to own it ...but that doesn't mean I have to.

"So how fast do you think you really are, Princess?" Corky pushes on, as one of the henchmen eases in on me from the backside.

Now it's my turn to edge away from the table, to give myself some room to rumble. In the process of pushing off, I palm my super sharp number 2 pencil shank off the desk, for a little light lead poisoning.

"Fast enough to kick your ass sideways, if you're not gone in the next two seconds." I counter coldly.

"Hey ease up beach boy, we're just messing around with you..." Corky leans in and pushes his hand onto my shoulder. Which I slide to the side, then jab my thumb right into his the hollow of his clavicle hard and fast.  

His eyes go wide in sudden shock at the strike. Then this dumbass does exactly what he's not supposed to in this situation. He reflexively tries to rear back instead of attacking inwards. Which makes it so easy to seize his throat by the windpipe, then slam his head down hard onto the tabletop. Which makes a very nice solid smack on contact, causing May to startle. Then I am right on him, pushing the old sharpened #2 pencil far enough into his ear to get his attention.

"You move another muscle asshole and I perforate your eardrum." I seethe reg rage down into Corky's fear face. 

Brad's brother Bobby recovers enough from the shock and starts to move in my peripheral. So I push the pencil in Corky's ear a little deeper, which makes him whine higher and start trembling slightly. 

"Don't even think it, asshole." I pin Bobby in place with my dead eyes, and he immediately backs off raising up his surrender hands.

"Any of you other assholes make a move to touch me or get anywhere near May ...and I skull bone Corky here hard." I emphasize the threat with a little twist of the pencil tip in Corky's ear. "Shove this spike all the way home and scramble his brains back to static."

I quick glance over to May and I can see that she is truly frightened now ...of me, of course. I know only too well, this is exactly the sort of confrontation that is way outside her skill set. But there is nothing I can do about that at the moment, other than make Corky pay for bringing out the Devil in me.

**And it's about flocking time kid!**  The dark voice of El Diablo chortles malevolently in my mind. **And seriously bro, what the hell is up with all this "flocking" bullshit you got rocking kid? Try to use your big boy words! Step up and be a man for Antichrist sake?**  

"May, please push all the way away from the table. Al the way back towards the wall behind you on your right." I instruct her calmly. "I don't want you getting Corky's blood on your new outfit. You know, cause bad blood is so hard to get out."   

"What the hell are you doing, man?" Kirk Moran is staring back and forth from me to the pencil worming into Corky's ear. "We just wanted to talk to you about trying out for the teams?"

"What teams?" Suddenly there is a crunch-snap sound like a bone-cracking in half behind us. The conversation immediately dies, as all eyes turn to the carrel doorway. Only to find my friendly funny psychopath study buddy standing there grinning. With his ever-present translator and consummate team apologist, Boomer Hayden in tow.

"Heya Deanz, whatcha doing? Making some more study buddies?" Butchy asks, pretending he hasn't been watching us from his usual knickknack snack spot out in Other Library proper.

"Sorry Butchy, I can't really chat right now. I'm a little busy playing cuts with Corky in the current." Who as we speak is starting to struggle slightly and keeps making whining "get off me" noises. 

"Yeah, I saw you playing around in here's with the underwear swimming crowd. What are they? All super glee gay for your butt hugs or something?" Butchy makes several highly awkward hand motions, which I assume are supposed to convey gleeful butt hugs on all parties present to the parlay. 

"Don't know, Butch," I reply evenly. "But I am definitely starting to get that awkward feeling."

"Touchy feelings are bad." Butchy pushes his bulk into the corner of the cubbyhole, looming large over Kirk and Bobby, who look properly intimidated. Behind him, Boomer Hayden translator extraordinaire leans against the door frame effectively pinning all the henchmen in the room. At the same time shielding what's going on from Cliffboard, or any other interested snitches with his double-wide shoulders.

"Hey, Butchy ...it's cool man." Kirk backs away from the Butcher like a sane person should. "This is just some sort of stupid misunderstanding..."

"Oh heya, underwear swimming guy Kirk Moron." Butchy snorts back. "I couldn't help but notice that you and the super skinny swimmers seem like pretty glee-gay for Surfer D here. So are you super glee gay for Deenz butt or what ...Kirk Moron?"

"Of course not." Kirk snaps back defensively. "We just came over to talk to Dean about trying out for the teams, but then..."

"...in your special swimming underwear." Butchy takes another large bite off his apple with a loud bone breaking snap.

"Yeah, I heard about what you water polo guys really do in the pool thing. With all the other flocking fags, all practicing pinching each other's penis with your toes and shit underwater, why you try to score some balls." Butchy starts to giggle psychotically.

"Wait? Is it true you guys shave your legs like girls, to come faster in your underwear? I mean go faster... when you are skinny swimming with the other underwear penis pinchers in the pool, with your shaved lady legs and shit?"

"Ah..." Kirk Moran looks over to Butchy's translator, who is seriously not wanting to clarify Butchy's latest confusion. After spending the last 'a weeks' with Butchering in English? I can't exactly say I really blame Boomer for his reluctance either.  

"Am I not the only one that thinks that guys shaving his legs, to practicing his penis pinching in special skinny swimming underwear is super glee gay, Boom?"

"When you put it like that, it does sound super suspect, Butchy." His ever-present translator grudgingly agrees.  

"Oh heya Maybe! I did not see you there being so quiet. It's me Butch from dummy math!" Butchy eases his massive bulk around me and all the way over to May's far side of the small study room. "Can I stand here next to you and watch Surfer D beat the shit out of the underwear swimming guys for a while?"

"Sure Butchy, knock yourself out." May snorts sardonically.

But I can tell she is all kinds of relieved, that we have at least one semi-friendly willing to stand by her. In all honesty, I never thought I would be glad to see Butcher and Boomer in the middle of another of my local political problems. But that was before these so-called Sharks started static, while May was with me. 

"Okay Surfer D, I got Maybe covered now. So you should do your Underroo bullying thing. O' wait...you underwear swimming guys know this school has that anti-bully thing, right?" Butchy points out to no one in particular.

"I mean I don't personally agree with that policy, cause I think bullies are good for building character and shit? Like I built my character up hard that once time, two a years ago at Da Frost? Shit Boom, do you remember that time freshman year? When I knocked the flock out that one 'thinking he was tougher than me guy' out at Da Frost? Alter then I pissed all over on his sleepy head?"

"How could anyone forget that day, Butch." Boomer shivers sadly. "Still have nightmares about that horrorshow to this day."

"Yeah Deenz, you should build some character like that too. Stand up to your underwear swimming bullies and shit, dude. Oh yeah, can you make them cry or something? Oooo, and make them pee pee themselves, cause that would be classic." Butchy stifles a small psychotic giggle behind the loud snapping crack of another bone-breaking bite of his apple.

"The underwear skinny swimming guys are getting pushed around by the strange surfer dude. Shit, you can't even make this kind of crap up if you tried." Butchy muses out to an uncaring universe. "Boom did you even know that the underwear swimming guys had bullies and shit?"

"I did not, Butch." Boomer muses back from the doorway.  

This is a joke, right? These are my bullies? I mean Butcher and some leatherheads, sure why not? They are the perfect stereotype for that, after all. But seriously ...swim team bullies? What the hell is wrong with my life?  

But then I remember the most basic rule in high school. That kids don't actually need a decent reason to inflict violence and pain on each other. Reinforcing the second most important lesson that school can teach you in a post-Columbine world. Always be ready to cut a bitch when shit goes sideways. 

"Look Dean, we're sorry about all this. We really didn't come here to start shit with you. We just heard about what you did in the water the other day. So me and Bobby wanted to see if you wanted to try out for teams. We didn't know Corky was going to start static with you..."  Kirk starts talking that weak talk. 

But I only have eyes for Corky, who is stilled pinned to the table and starting to struggle. Probably due to the pencil, that I am still worming around in his ear, driving him crazy with anticipation of the agony.  

So I do us both a favor and take Corky's legs out from under him and flip him flat on his back. Then ram my foot right down on his throat for good measure. Leaning my weight down on his neck, and effectively pinning him to the ground and at my mercy. 

"No means no, assholes." I face off on Kirk and the other lappers while Corky starts to struggling under heel. "You ever come sideways at me again, and we go right there. Or we can take it down to Da Frost after school and go one on one. Let's see how tough you really are without your lapper boys around to fight your battles for you?" 

I lean down and put my weight onto Corky's neck, and watch his fuming face turning from bone white to bright blood red until he gets the point.

"You ever come near me or mine again? I hunt you down and kick the life out of you." I crouch low and close, seething down into his pained expression. "You send anyone else after me?"

"I beat the shit out of them first. Then I hunt you down outside of school kick the crap out of you again. And every time after that, when I set eyes on you, I will come swinging." I begin bouncing my foot up and down on his throat to emphasize the point. "And again...and again....and again."

"And by the time I get done with you, Corky? You won't ever walk right again, let alone swim straight. So long college scholarship ride. Goodbye big dreams of glory, and hello nothingness. After I get done breaking you, the best you can ever even hope for is to become Buzzy's bitch boy one day? Albeit, many many years from now after you final heal up enough to hobble." I eye bone all the henchmen so they get the message. "So am I worth messing with now?"

"You fuc..." Unbelievably Corky is still talking trash from the floor.  

I am starting to see that stupidity and completely missing the point must run deep in his gene pool. So I drop down a heavy knee right into his exposed solar plexus up before he can finish the thought. As he flinches up, I snap a palm jab to his forehead fast, sending his head back to the floor hard enough to make a hollow thud. Followed by a nice swift heel kick right under ribs to the kidneys for good measure. I bounce back up before replacing my weight back on the side of his throat. Thankfully, this time Corky stays down, gasping for air and clearly in agony.

When the henchmen finally move to help him before I can do any more damage, but Butchy is instantly on his feet.

"Oh sheet, can anyone play too?" Butchy is facing off with the henchmen, with his arms are spread wide and smiling his second-best tombstone smile. "Cause I wanna play with you too ...Kirk Moron."

The Sharks look at Butch, then down at Corky, then shake their heads in unison. Before backpedaling back to the wall by Boomer, where it's still safe. Truth is only a complete lunatic would mess with The Butcher on a good day. But on opposite day where he thinks he's flocking funny? You'd have to be full-on Insansitni to think that was a good idea.

"Awww ...no one wants to play with me?" Butchy snorts, rocking his massive brick head back and forth. Just looking for an argument to the contrary, so he can play a more active part in the fun time being had. 

"Screw this, I'm outta here." Two of the teammates in the back of the audience, who I never caught their names, peel off and ease their way past politely Boomer and out the door.   

"Who sent you sideways after me? Chad, Brad, or Buzzy?" I intone coldly down at Corky.

"Screw you..." Corky seethes up from the floor cause this guy just does not know when to quit. 

So I twist the heel of my boot around on his throat until he starts to turn red and his lips go cyanotic. His hands are trying to punch my leg away. So yank his right wrist up and twist around hard, applying the pressure that I know will get the right results.

"Sorry Corky, I couldn't hear you over the sound of the tendons inside your elbow about to rupture." Giving his right wrist a little more twist, to add to his agony. "What was that last thing? I think you were saying something that sounded a lot like hurt me more? I love it, and I never want to swim straight again?"

"Okay. I'm sorry.  Please..." He whines at me through pleading teary fear eyes. By the smell of ammonia evaporating off his skin I know he is broken, or close to it.    

"Chad, Brad or Buzzy?" I repeat evenly. 

"No one, sent me, I swear. We were just messing around..." He lies through his teeth.

"Bullshit." I start twisting a little more to increase the agony to unbearable pain.

"It was Chad, obviously." Brad's brother Bobby replies over Butchy's wide shoulders.

"Why?" As if I don't already know, but I still need to hear him say it.

"You're kidding, right?" Bobby blinks at me in incomprehension of my question.

"Why?" I repeat.

"Because you beat his best time in the water by over a minute and a half? In a flocking freshmeat PE class, without even trying?" Bobby finally owns up to the truth.  

So this shit is the payback for Blue Balls day in the pool? Gods in Hell be dammed, I knew that water god bullshit was gonna come back to bite me in the ass eventually.

"Now you give Brad'n'Chad a little message back for me." I eye Bobby, who looks like he wants nothing to do with any of this at all. "One more bad move on their part? I'll have three kids accuse Chad of peeping them in the showers and touching himself. Tomorrow morning before school even starts, he can meet his new jailhouse boyfriend for a tossed salad before lunch even gets served."

"Oh yeah, you can count me in on that action. You know...cause I feel all kinds of violated." Comes the jovial double-chinned chuckle from the doorway. Now apparently Sporka and Brother Lee's have decided to join the Study Buddy party in the quiet corner. "So this is the secret spot where the Satan gang meets, huh? Who knew?"

"Not now, Spork." I snap back.

"All Surfer D has to say is shit's on and you and me go, Polanski." Brother Lee's bumps right into the lanky swimmer, who wisely backs off from the suddenly edgier Brother Lee's.

Brother Lee's may not be able to swim for shit, but my money would defiantly be on him in an unfair fight. Assassin sister aside, there is something a little edgy about this kid that all the dark voices in my mind kind of like. Which in my experience is probably not a good thing to get going.

"So just you four of you then at Da Frost tomorrow, to get your ass kicked back to back?" Butchy cocks his massive head at Corky, Kirk, Bobby, and Polanski. "Or is this shit over and done now, Kirk Moron?"

"It's definitely done." Kirk waives this whole thing away. "None of us need this kind of static over Chad Collins problems."

"Say it's done now Dorky Corky dying on the floor, or it's Da Frost for you in your underroos." Butchy laughs like a nutter at his new rhyme.  

"Done." Corky grudgingly gives in, but I can already tell it's not done. We are a long, long way from done, this shit is just getting started. 

"Okay good, so now we're all friends again." Butchy frowns down at the remaining flocks. "So then why are you still here annoying, Maybe? Can't you see she has special study stuff to do? Right, Maybe?"

"Oh yeah ...sure ...special study stuff?" May cautiously agrees with the monster.  

I give Cork a solid shove back into the ground and step back to see what his next move is. Corky slowly stands up defiantly and is clearly about to say something seriously stupid. But then Butchy starts to chortle malevolently into his face.  

"Now buh bye, Dorky Corky the skinny swimming guy and his super special underwear friends. Or let me know right now that you want to show up at Da Frost tomorrow, so we can sort this shit out right. And if you run Dorky Corky, everyone will know ...especially all the girls." Butchy smiles his tombstone grin of malevolence, so there is no misunderstanding. "Not that that would matter to you penis pinchers."

"That's not necessary, this is over." Bobby shakes off the invitation pulling Corky and the boys out of the fishbowl carrel.  

"We never wanted you on the teams anyways. You probably can't pass the drug test anyways. I heard it runs in the family, like your mom's in rehab or some shit, right? So you probably have AIDS from all those needles you share with your druggie mom..." Corky seethes back his parting shot.     

And my parting shot is a just lame, "Anytime anywhere asshole."     

After my swimming bullies leave the room, I slow-roll my shoulders and prepare to deal with the next round of whatever with the Butcher.

"Butchy? Thoughts?" I eye the spycho, waiting to see where the crazy train is going next.

"Well, that was fun, but I think my damage here is done." Butchy intones seriously, pushing up his massive bulk off the table and stretches out like a Gorilla popping his spine. "Okay, bye Maybe. You have fun doing your fun special study stuff with Surfer D."  

"You too, Butch." May sighs. "And thanks again for dropping by."

"No worries, Maybe." Butchy grins on the way past me. "Damn your funny Surfer D. Swimming bullies, I mean how is that even a thing? Oh, and that again, and again, and again line was classic. Yeah, I am gonna rip that one from you and use that next time I meet 'a thinking he is tough guy' on another team."

"Keep it, it's all yours to use and abuse as you see fit." I nod my thanks back to him.

"Oh, and we're even Dean. Okay?" Butchy gives me the evil eye.

"Yeah, even." I nod the nonce.

"Good, now let's not be friends again. Okay?" Butchy beams and winks at me on the way out the door.

"No worries," I nod back, sealing the deal. I'm pretty sure my B in English is just about to go down another notch thanks to the old bootleg switcharoo.

"So who the flock are you little fat flocking piece of freshmeat?" Butchy frowns down, lording over Spork and Lee's in the doorway.

"Sporka, we're on Dean's Satan Gang swimming team. Which is probably what started this static." Sporka mugs proudly, as if this fact will save him from the psychotic. "We heard that dick Polanski has been talking shit about how they were gonna come see Dean in detention. So I showed up to pick a team." 

"Oh yeah? You're flocking fat. I was fat once as a kid, but and then I became me." Butchy muses over his awesomeness. "Yeah, you should be me."

"I should?" Sporka blinks up, unsure what he just stepped into with San Fall's biggest psychopath.  

"Yeah, turned out being big asshole me was a way better than being lazy fat flocking me." Butchy grins his best tombstone grin. "Cause asshole me gets laid a way lot more than fat flocking kid me ever even thought he could."

"Then I should definitely be asshole you, dude." Sporka starts to belly laugh, and Butchy starts to giggle, and both me and Brother Lee's roll our eyes. I'm thinking these two idiots together are not a good mix at all, for anyone. A big angry psychopath is one thing ...but I'm thinking a jovial one could possibly be way worse for everyone in the long run.     

"You're a Brother Lee's, huh?" Butchy eyes Lee's hard. 

"Yeah." Lee's nods slowly, clearly waiting for someone to say something stupid about his second hottest sister again.

"Okay, Lee's is cool." Butch shrugs and departs with his translator back to his flock of leatherheads waiting around for their glorious leader to return and say something stupid.  

I look out the door past Sporka to see if we've been spotted by any of the interested flocks. But thanks to Butchy and the boys, no one seems stupid enough to be paying attention. There are a few interested leatherheads lurking around the big books behind Boomer. But Butchy has raised his finger to his lips, so suddenly they are all smiles.

Yeah, I'll  say it again, I love detention...my kind of people.

"So you and the Satan gang cool, or what?" Spork chortles.

"Yeah." I nod. "Thanks for..."

"No worries Sufer D, it was the least after everything you've done for us, taking the heat with Captain Midnight." Lee's cuts off whatever I was gonna say. 

"Coo'cool." I nod my thanks to my teammates. 

"Yeah, coo'cool." Lee's nods back and pulls the jovial fat floater away. "Com'on ya fat bastard it's snack time. Your blood sugar is probably low now after all that moving around your fat ass just did."

"This is true, I do feel a bit peaked now that you mentioned it?" The future menace to society laughs his way off to the snack machines.       

When it's finally just us alone in our small space in the corner once more, I finally face my dark goddess to explain my many sins. 

"May, it's just us alone again...are you okay?" I come close without touching her, so as to not startle her anymore than she already has been. 

"Mmmm, I'm okay." She nods slowly. "But that was very..."

"Scary?" I sigh. "I know, and I am so sorry. I didn't mean to drag you into my stupid shit again."

"Oh, that's okay." She waves me off. "What I was going to say was that was very not nice of them to bring your bring your mom up into the mix."

"Yeah well, there's nothing that can be done about that. And trust me, at the moment, I'm a lot more worried about you than her."

"Don't be." She sighs sadly, reaching out to hesitantly brushing my hair out of my face.

"Once upon a time ...a very brave but stupid boy I knew, told me never to get involved with stupid guy stuff.  That 'girl thing' was a much better color on me." She feigns innocence for a second and then burst out giggling.

"Oh my gawd, you should see the look on your face right now." Then her giggling turns slightly psychotic, in imitation of her new bestie and potential future boyfriend-in-law, The Butcher Boy.

"So that was our first Satan Gang fight huh?" May finally mugs. "I don't know Mr. Devil, but somehow I thought it would be ...more?"

"Second gang fight actually." I counter evenly. "I mean if we're still counting that day on the Annex Bleachers."

"Oh Holy Hell, how could I ever forget the Annex bleachers!" She sighs. "My hero..."

"More like your victim." I laugh back affectionately, just glad to see that she can make light of all this stupidity. "Besides I'm not really supposed to be the hero, I'm supposed to be the villain. Or at best the strange sidekick kid?"

"Well, sorry to kill the dream tough guy. But ever since you walked down the bleachers that day ...you're sorta my hero." She beams her best smile up at me and pinches her fingers together. "Just a little bit."

"You said, I scared you?"

"Yeah, but people can be scared of heroes too." She counters seriously. "At least until they figure out what side they're on, then they're cool."

"Right." I snort. So speaking of what side of Insanistan they're on, a new thought occurs to me? How exactly did that asshole Corky know anything about my mother?

"May you didn't happen to say anything to April about my mother being in rehab, did you?" The question of where the source of Corky's insults came from starts to occur.

"No, I would never do that to you, Darren." May instantly bristles defensively. "I swear, I would never do that to you. You have to believe me." Now May is starting to get panicky on the aftermath of my accusation.

"Relax May, I trust you above all others," I reassure her of my heresy. "I was just asking to make sure." 

"Because now it occurs to me that I have another potential problem? Seems that someone around here thinks they know some things about me and home? And you're the only one I told, so if it's not you to April to whoever? Then that means someone else knows something about my family and has been talking whit." And who do I know that is the master whit-talker of all San Fall? 

"Yeah, the Irish Antichrist must have told her buddy Mrs. St. Claire. Or Aces told Buzzard and the warmonger boys down at the Hall of Heroes." I surmise the obvious explanation. "That's the only thing that makes sense."

"Why would your grandparents do something that?" May tilts her head curiously.

"Because of a lot of hard history, and an ocean of bad blood between them and my mother. But still, that's sorta like Irish spitting in her own face? Talking trash with a half Insnistani grandson and his dumb drunk druggie mother?" I shake my head slowly. "I don't know, I just don't see Irish making herself look bad like that, even at my expense? But then again hate makes you do funny things."

"I thought that was love?" May smiles up at me. But I suddenly forget a lot of things I was going to say after that. Because that's right about when the first of the shivers starts up and attaches itself to my spine.

"What's wrong, Dare?" May can feel the vibrations. 

"Battle rattles..." I can barely get the words out as the shiver shakes start to take me away.  

And I hate myself a little more than before. Because I am so weak...

"Come here Mr. Devil, and look me in the eyes." I feel her elfinine fingers slide up my chest to my face and hold me in place.

May pushes her nightshades up into her hair. Her golden eyes open wide and zoom into me, and take me far far away from my troubles. I fall deep down into her darkness and feel her warm embrace around what little is left of my cold soul. 

"Dare to be better." I hear the distant voice of my dark goddess whisper in the abyss.   

"Goddess, I will try...until I die." I absolutely assure her of my heresy. 

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