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Chapter Text

tim·or·ous
/ˈtim(ə)rəs/
adjective
1. showing or suffering from nervousness, fear, or a lack of confidence.

BECKY BOTSFORD'S HOME RESIDENCE, 0534 HOURS

Becky Botsford has faced terrors unimaginable before as a young super-heroine. Nearly every day she's faced with crazed scientists, bitter old ladies, weird mutant sandwich people - the list was endless. She'd gone against super-powered aliens, stared new villains in the eye without so much as breaking a sweat-

And so, the mighty Lexiconian stood in her room, two whole hours before she had to leave for school, ten times more nervous than she'd ever been in most of her life.

While her qualms with high school had been temporarily mollified the past week, there was absolutely no stopping her worrying the moment orientation day passed. It was a steady countdown to her first day of high school, and Becky was terrified with every second. It wasn't as if she was unprepared; in fact she had read and annotated her summer reading books twelve times over, filled out every study guide, packed away every notebook and color-coded her pens and sticky notes. If anything, she was too prepared, if there was such thing.

No, in reality, Becky was just terrified of the new, alien environment she would be facing. All of her novels described high school as a playground of deception, betrayal, and drama - and with how dramatic her junior high life already was, she wasn't ready to dig into that new experience, not at all. She could say for certain that she was more nervous to enter the wayward high school halls then she was for any of her regular villain battles. Which, in hindsight, didn't say a whole lot.

She had barely been able to sleep, so there was really no gripe with her being up freakishly early preparing herself for ... everything. And much to the disgruntlement of her pet monkey, she wasn't really respecting his sleeping either as she paced and talked her poor sidekick's ear off.

"Should I put on the hoops? Would that be too much?" Becky looks into her vanity mirror, her mouth running a mile a minute as she dissects her appearance, "Hair up, or down? What do you think? What about makeup? Do high schoolers wear makeup? They do on TV - oh Bob, I'm so nervous!" she squeaks, looking back to her pet who was in no way comprehending the words she was saying, half-asleep.

"You're sooo lucky you don't have to go to high school. It's like - the most terrifying thing in the world!" Becky frets.

Bob levels her with a narrowed look and flat trill.

"Okay, maybe not the most terrifying thing." the umber-skinned girl relents, turning back to her reflection, "But it's up there."

She surveys herself, tracing her fingers over her face. Even though she was fourteen, and a fresh ninth grader, she didn't feel like one. Becky had barely changed over the summer; her face was still round and childish and she'd not grown an inch - unlike her friends who now broke five feet. She frowns softly at herself, at the freckles scattering the bridge of her nose and making her look girlish, and at her frizzy hair that puffs up in the back.

"I don't .... look like a high schooler." she mumbles to herself, slightly dejected at this newfound fact she realizes the day she has to go to school.

BOTSFORD BREAKFAST TABLE, 0702 HOURS

Her demeanor doesn't change much when she gets down at the appropriate time for breakfast. Becky's changed into the clothes she already picked out for her first day after staring at herself in the mirror for half an hour. It's relatively the same style, but she can't help but notice how her teal oversized sweater hangs off her frame a little more, and that she has to hike her skirt up to give it that shorter, more mature length she wanted above the knee.

She's tied her springy hair above her head in a small knot, choppy bangs that are beginning to get a bit too long grazing her eyebrows. Becky hopes that it gives her that little shift in her brain she needs to trick herself into seeing a high schooler when staring at her reflection, but it doesn't work. Becky goes down for breakfast, mindlessly picking at the pancakes her dad decided to make for this 'special occasion', as he calls it. They are one of her favorites but she really can't stomach the food because of the incessant twisting of her stomach.

Her mother, sat next to her and sipping on some coffee, peers at her with concern, "What's wrong, dear? I thought you liked banana oat pancakes." she asks, "You've hardly touched your breakfast."

Becky sighs, resting her cheek in her hand, "I'm just really nervous for school today."

"Why are you nervous?" blasts TJ with his mouth full, "It's not like it's any different from last year, you're just moving up a grade."

"TJ, napkin." Her mother scolds.

"It IS different!" Becky argues, glaring at her brother, "You'll know IF you ever make it to high school-"

"It's way too early in the morning, you two," her mother says, then diverts her attention back to the eldest child, "And you have nothing to be nervous about, Becky. High school is going to be fun, I promise!"

But that's not what I'm worried about, the umber-skinned girl thinks glumly, "Mom, do you think I look like a high schooler?"

Her mother's face deepens in thought, humming astutely. Before she can answer, her father leans in right between them as he serves another helping right onto the table, laughing jovially. "Don't worry, Beck-a-roo, you'll always be our baby girl, no matter what!" he beams and pats her head, before returning to the stove.

Her mother laughs along, standing up and smoothing down some stray hairs coming up from her top knot, "He's right, Becky. You'll always be our adorable little girl to us." she remarks, "And try to eat a little, okay?" she adds before meandering back to their kitchen

Becky frowns, her appetite thinning out even more. It was clear they didn't understand her initial question or her concerns; in fact, they ended up making her feel worse. That was not at all what she wanted to hear.

She glances to her warped reflection on the metal of her spoon, pouting as she traces her features with her eyes. Just don't worry about it, Becky, she internally scolds herself, you have bigger things to be thinking about. You're a super heroine, remember? High school is not a big deal.

Though, as she tries to eat a bit of the heaping helping of pancakes her dad served her, Becky knows that the jitters aren't completely gone yet, just hidden behind a veil of forced pragmatism.

Not a big deal....

FAIR CITY HIGH SCHOOL, 0745 HOURS

One relieving thing about high school was that although Becky wasn't completely used to it, it wasn't entirely new and alien either. At least with their orientation a week ago the handful of new freshman had a tour and tested out their class schedules. Though she wished that would relieve her, the nerves were ever so prevalent walking through her high school halls. There were so many people that it was overwhelming, though mainly Becky was taking notice of how mature everyone looked. She couldn't help but feel a bit timorous in comparison to everyone.

She sets her backpack on the floor, which if she wasn't using super strength and durability to carry it, would have definitely crushed her beneath the weight of all the books she was carrying. Becky wanted to get everything into her locker so she was basically harboring a massive load of extra wide textbooks and notebooks. And on that note, she begins the steady process of shoving everything into her high school locker.

In the midst of her task, Becky is ambushed by warm arms wrapping around her, being squeezed into a surprisingly strong embrace. "Becky!" she hears the familiar soft tone of her best friend, which induces a warm feeling of relief and a wide grin. She turns, returning the swift hug, "Violet!" she echoes in greeting, pulling back to peer at her, "You're here!"

"And you're here!" Violet blinks warmly at the super heroine, "Isn't this exciting, Becky?" she squeals in excitement, "We're finally here... it feels so ... unreal."

Becky was a bit disappointed that Violet didn't feel as vexed as and that she didn't seem to have any qualms, because while her family didn't seem to understand she was hoping at least she would. But still, the bliss that her friend was happy was enough. Becky smiles wanly, "More or less."

"Is something wrong, Becky?" the blonde tilts her head in inquisition, "I know you were nervous about this, but you seem-"

"Angel!"

Her voiced concerns are briefly cut off when another voice enters the fray; a voice belonging to none other than her beloved boyfriend. She turns at the sound of it, heart fluttering in her chest from his term of endearment, though the wind is thoroughly knocked out of her when she's met with the full force of Tobey knocking into her and squeezing her into a tight hug. Becky's even more shocked, and a bit embarrassed, when Tobey lifts her off the ground to spin her around for a mere second, still locked him his crushing embrace. When she's set on her feet again, cheeks blushing brightly, his hands cup her face.

"Goodness, my dear." Tobey marvels, "You look so gorgeous."

"Tobey!" Becky squeaks, pushing him back as gently as possible, "W-we're in public!"

"Sorry, darling." Tobey hums, clearly not apologetic at all as he clasps his hand onto her shoulder, "I was just excited. I haven't seen you in so long."

Her stomach flips, "You saw me yesterday."

"Yes, yes - far too long. And you've only grown more beautiful with time." the boy genius presses a light kiss to her temple.

"Tobey." she squeezes her eyes shut and speaks his name in what she's been beginning to call the 'Tobey-you're-being-far-too-lovey-dovey-right-now' tone.

"Alright, alright. No PDA." he chuckles amusedly, though still holds her close. Becky's face still tingles with the faint remnants of her fierce flush, lightly brushing her fingers against his hand. She had him promise not to pull any brazen displays of affection out in public very recently, because Tobey apparently had no inhibitions when it came to that sort of thing, unlike Becky.

Violet watches with an airy giggle, not at all perturbed by Tobey's smothering endearments, "Hello, Tobey." she greets, "Have you seen Scoops anywhere?"

"Violet." he nods in her direction, finally acknowledging her, "I did see him, but I lost track of him the moment I laid my eyes upon my beloved."

"I'm here." the reporter approaches the group in a pained voice, eyes sunken, "I was just retching from watching Tobey say hi to Becky."

Tobey scoffs, baring his teeth in an overzealous simper, "Stay jealous and single, ace reporter."

Violet muffles her slew of laughter with her hands while Becky glows bright red again. Despite the embarrassment, her spirits are graciously lifted being with her group of friends.

All of which looked substantially more grown than her....

Unlike herself, Becky could see the shiny, new changes her friends went through over the years, even over the summer. They'd all blossomed into newer (though dubiously refined) versions of themselves, like true high schoolers. Even Tobey, who was as awkward yet beguiling with his gauche charms as ever, seemed to carry the high schooler title with ease.

Were they all ready for this, except for her?

FAIR CITY HIGH SCHOOL, 0830 HOURS

Becky stays with her friends, chatting for a little while before they have to go their separate ways. She can say for certain her spirits are a bit more uplifted though, but that's promptly cut off as the bell rings for their first period classes. She didn't share a lot of her classes with her group, so getting through the day would be the hard part.

"Come on, Becky." Violet tugs on the sleeve of Becky's sweater with a smile, "Our first classes are in the same building. Let's walk together."

Becky nods in agreement and tilts her head towards the boys, "Bye, you two. See you later."

Tobey huffs pelutantly, "Can't I walk you to your class?"

"Nope." the super heroine rolls her eyes, and though she's thoroughly touched by his offer she wouldn't let him know that lest she encourage him. Becky knows he can go without her for a little bit, he's just making a scene for the sake of it. "You're going to be late if you do, they're in opposite buildings. Besides, I'll see you at lunch and fourth period."

"I thoroughly rebuke the notion of class punctuality." Tobey clamors, busting out the coloquial English, "And it would be worth it to see that my fair lady gets to her destination safely."

"Mmkay. Walking away now, can't hear you!" Becky calls over her shoulders while she tugs a beatific, giggling Violet along, heat blossoming in her cheeks.

"Arrivederci! Au revoir! So long, my love! Parting is such sweet sorrow-!"

"Dude, you cannot be shouting that in the halls in public." Scoops groans as he pushes Tobey farther down the hall.

"That boy, I swear." She grumbles under her breath once they're out of earshot, though despite her words there's an obvious affectionate edge to them. Tobey really wouldn't be Tobey without his disgustingly sweet mannerisms, and she wouldn't trade it for the world.

"I think it's really sweet." Violet counters, "He likes you a lot."

"I know." Becky can't stifle the dreamy smile on her face that begins to form at the notion. She really was lucky to have him, even if he was a massive dork, with a really nice smile-

"But anyway..." her best friend bumps their shoulders together before Becky can get too carried away with romantic daydreams, "Are you still nervous about today, Becky? I promise, there's nothing to worry about."

Despondency slowly settles across her features, "Well, I guess." she sighs, her voice lowering to a quiet murmur, "I feel... out-of-place still, you know? Everyone here looks so grown, including all of you, that it makes me feel a bit timorous."

"Oh," Violet gives a quizzical frown, "Tim.. timorous?"

Becky perks up, "Well, when someone is timorous it means they're a bit self-conscious or nervous. So when I say I'm feeling timorous, I'm referring to how uncomfortable I am."

"Becky..." the chubby blonde knits her eyebrows in concern, "You're like, the smartest girl I know! You shouldn't feel tim-o-rous at all!"

"That's... not what I'm worried about." she responds, shoulders slumping over, "It's just - everything else about me! I'm too small, my clothes are too nerdy - I just feel like a fish out of water!"

"That's not true!" Violet interjects, then takes a brief pause, "I think you look pretty grown."

"You mean it?" Becky looks to her hopefully.

"Yeah! You could be like... sixteen or something!" her best friend reiterates cheerfully, before coming to a full stop by one of the doors and beaming down at her, "Oh, this is my class!"

She feels the slightest bit soothed by the words of Violet, even if she has the inkling she's exaggerating just to placate her. But it doesn't matter, Becky's worries are muffled for the moment, "Thanks, Violet." the umber-skinned girl says serenely, letting her eyes flutter shut with a gentle exhale, "See you at lunch."

BECKY BOTSFORD'S ENGLISH HONORS II CLASS, 0830 HOURS

It turns out, her moment of clarity it swiftly captured and snuffed out once again when she settles into her first period class, Honors English II (Becky had to take a placement test for that, but they wouldn't let her go above Honors II). And a setback of being placed in a higher class meant she was the youngest and newest out of everyone.

Her fellow classmates, a full grade above her, seemed to already have pre-established connects with each other; even if they weren't friends, their background chatter about previous classes and experiences made Becky feel more out of place than she already was. Not to mention, they all carried themselves with a realness that she thought was a fictional concept in trashy teenage novels. Weren't they nervous? She tries to shrink into herself, and even as the professor goes up and begins to explain their syllabus, Becky can't help but want to disappear.

(This would be a long year if she couldn't get it together.)

THE HARROWING HIGH SCHOOL HALLS, UH OH UH OH UH OH, 1107

Becky manages to get through her first couple of classes, though her mind is still as foggy as can be. Her classes are filled to the brim with outlandish and colorful characters, though one thing she notes about almost all of them is that they fit in, which is more she can say for herself.

Though, she's given the excuse she didn't know she was looking for on her way to lunch when some of her super hearing picks up a very familiar sound: the clear ringing of the jewelry store alarm going off. At that, Becky is flooded with a storm of emotions. Annoyance, because lunch was the only time she was actually looking forward to because of all of her friends; relief, because this might be a helpful way to let off some of her frustrations; and a bit skittish because she doesn't know how long this fight will last - and she really didn't want to make a poor impression by showing up late.

Becky grips the brown bag containing her lunch, quickly surveying the halls before she catches a glimpse of friend and former school girl crush, Scoops. Quickly, she flanks to his side, a twitchy smile on her face as she greets him, "Hey, uh, Scoops-!""

"What's up, Becky?" The reporter raises a furrowed brow, a flash of recognition in his eyes, "Uh oh. I know that look." he remarks affably, and in an instinctive swoop he takes her lunch, "Where's the fire?"

"Jewelry store." Becky sighs out, "Tell the others, won't you?"

"You want me to tell Tobey?" Scoops blasts, "You know he's going to think I personally victimized him."

The umber-skinned girl rolls her eyes. The relationship between Tobey and Scoops is still tumultuous at best, mainly because her boyfriend harbors heavy feelings of jealousy from her old, forgotten crush on the junior reporter. But, they were working on it. "Don't be dramatic." Becky brushes past him, before pausing briefly and throwing him a look over her shoulder, "... just have Violet tell him, if you're that scared."

With that little jab, Becky turns into an empty corner and transforms in a flash.

FLYING AT THE SPEED OF SOUND, ON HER WAY TO THE JEWELRY STORE, 1123 HOURS

Ever since her sidekick stopped being brought with her to school, Bob, or Captain Huggyface, now had one of his own little crime alert gadgets in the form of a watch. It helped Wordgirl save on time so she didn't have to make that detour, since her sidekick usually always finds his own way onto the scene of the crime - and it was no different as she zips to the jewelry store, being greeted with the Butcher and her sidekick duking it out outside on the street (is more convenient for her). By that, Huggyface was just using his usual strategy against the villain - unhinging his maw and gulping down whatever was thrown his way.

"Sorry I'm late!" Wordgirl lands beside her sidekick, newly invigorated with the presiding battle, "But stop right there, Butcher!"

"Oh, Wordgirl! Thank goodness!" The Butcher gives a firm glare to the monkey, who grins back smugly, "Your sidekick just keeps eating my attacks!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Wordgirl picks up Huggyface by the arms, "Let me just -" she builds up her momentum by spinning around at a breakneck pace, "-rectify that!" she flings her sidekick and sends him crashing into the Butcher, both parties letting out a squeal of terror at the impact.

"Great job, Huggy! Keep him distracted!" the super heroine chirps as the Butcher thrashes about while Huggy clings onto his head for dear life. The villain gets even sloppier, sending his attacks everywhere since he can't really see where he's going. Wordgirl ignores the pandemonium to yank out a city lamppost, holding it with ease with her super strength (and looking comically tiny when she carries it over).

The Butcher, with his eyesight impaired by the monkey, slips on one of his rogue burger patties from his chaotic attacks, sending him crashing to the ground. "Alright, I can take it from here," Wordgirl hums loftily, twisting the lamppost with ease. As Huggyface releases, she zips around the large villain on the floor and ties him up with the post.

"Ugh, typical." the Butcher groans, defeated.

"There we go." the super-heroine dusts off her hands, "Looks like ... I'm all done here..." she trails off with a frown, the realization setting in that she has to go back to class. Back to high school.

She frowns, settling down on the tremendous pile of meat that the Butcher created. At the bottom, Huggyface continues to shovel patties into his mouth. The tied-up villain shoots Wordgirl a harrowed look, "What's up, kid? You look pretty down." he struggles to turn and face her, since he's pretty handicapped at the moment and can't use his hands, "You don't have to wait for the police to get here, you know."

"I know..." she sighs, cupping her face in her hands, "Mr. The Butcher... how old do you think I look?" the super-heroine tilts her head up towards the captured villain.

"Uh..." he squints his eyes, "... twelve, maybe?"

"Twelve?" Wordgirl cries, her eyes stretching wide and threatening to fill with tears.

"Oh - uh, d-don't cry or anything!" the Butcher panics, "L-look, I'm terrible with ages! I have terrible depth perception - and astigmatism!"

The umber-skinned heroine brings her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on top of them, "I'm fourteen." she mumbles woefully.

"That was, like, my next guess! You're the most fourteen I've ever seen!" he barks with laughter, attempting to beseech her, "I-in fact, I was gonna say you were older! Like, twenty-"

"It's okay," Wordgirl lets out a long breath, her cheeks puffing out, "You don't have to do that."

The Butcher frowns a bit at her mien, and kicks up one of the meat patties on the pile they were sitting on, "Burger?" he offers, the oily thing sliding off his shoe.

Wordgirl scrunches up her nose at the sight of it. Technically, this WAS her lunch time - but the greasy slab of meat that was sitting on the floor didn't seem too appetizing. She picks it up delicately, "Uhm... thanks, but no thanks." she gives a wavy smile and drops it into her sidekick's open and awaiting mouth, who swallows it in one gulp. She makes a face at his uncouthness.

"Sorry, I don't mean to bring this all onto you." Wordgirl resumes, "It's just, I'm having my first day of high school today, and ..."

"Must be rough, huh?" the Butcher sympathizes.

"Like you wouldn't believe!" Wordgirl groans, leaning back on her hands, "I want to fit in, but I feel - I look too scrappy and childish compared to everyone else!"

He blinks, "Aren't you a child?"

"I am a teenager!" blasts Wordgirl, beginning floating above him in her fervor, "I want to look like a teenager!"

"Ah, w-wait, you do! You do, I swear!" The Butcher flinches at her tone, "I didn't mean to upset you! Kids and teenagers just blend the same for me. And I know high school is a weird place to be in," he nods, a small smile forming on the villain's face, "But I gotta tell you, it does NOT get easier. So you either gotta keep goin' or get held back. Literally. I was held back, like two grades." he shakes his head, "Ah, anyway, it's the most grown thing you can do."

Wordgirl lets his words sink in, drifting back down onto the throne of meat. "Huh." she says finally, the warmth of her worries finally whisking away beginning to settle, "Who knew the winning counseling today would come from the Butcher?"

"What can I say?" he grins, "I am very in touch with my emotions."

"Well, thank you." the superheroine returns his fatherly smile, "I mean it."

FAIR CITY HIGH SCHOOL, 1536 HOURS

The bell rings, and Becky's hit with the realization she's made it through the first full day of high school. And embarrassingly enough, it makes her giddy.

By the time she returns, she'd only missed lunch and the class right after, but she manages to catch her last bundle of classes at the end of the day. And surprisingly .... the Butcher's words helped her. She couldn't just go around feeling sorry for herself if she wanted to make it through school, and that attitude made her feel as mature as she could get. So her nerves settle gradually, and she's not so scared to be in class and exist in the present moment. She feels ... like she belongs.

The super-heroine in substantially higher spirits, practically skipping as she makes her way to her locker to exchange her things. She hums delightedly, and as she shuts her locker she's greeted with the charming presence of her boyfriend, awkwardly leaning against the row of lockers right beside hers.

"Ah, Tobey!" Becky swings her backpack onto her shoulders, blinking up at him affectionately, "Hello."

"Good afternoon, dearest." Tobey says with a lofty smile, "I haven't seen you all day. But don't worry, I covered for you in Word History. We just went over the syllabus."

Word History was one of the only classes that she and Tobey shared, and the one she accidentally skipped because of Wordgirl duties. Becky returns his smile graciously, "Oh, thank you, Tobey." she leans into him a bit, "It was the Butcher today - and guess what? He gave me some surprisingly solid advice."

Tobey's brows furrow quizzically, "For what?"

"Well, I was just really anxious today for our first day." Becky explains with an airy wave of her hand, "I felt like I didn't fit in and all - but when I fought him he gave me some enlightening words." she straightens her back, wagging a finger, "That the most mature thing I could do was just truck along, no matter what."

He just stares at her, "You got advice? From the Butcher?"

"I know, right? Crazy."

"I could have told you that, turtledove." Tobey sulks, lips twitching into a dramatic frown, "I could've helped."

"Aw, Tobey. Are you upset you didn't give me life-changing advice?" Becky raises a thick eyebrow up at her boyfriend, who's averting his eyes in a timid manner unlike him, which is when her teasing demeanor falters.

"I don't know. A bit, maybe." Tobey mumbles, but she hears him loud and clear. She knows he likes aiding her, and perhaps solving something without his assistance made him feel the slightest bit downcast. She couldn't have that. A gentle smile unfurls on her lips, stepping closer to the boy genius.

"Dork." Becky goes on her tip toes and plants a soft kiss on his cheek, her own face blossoming into a terrible heat in the process. But she doesn't stop there, and intertwines her hand with his own, "How about you walk me home?" she suggests shyly.

Tobey snaps his head back to her, glasses jolting a bit in the process as that adorable flush paints his cheeks. He grins coquettishly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze back, "Why, Becky Botsford. Did you just kiss me - in public?" he teases despite the overwhelming redness overtaking his face.

The heat in her cheeks worsens, scoffing as she tugs him along, "Come on, before I change my mind,"

"So cruel to me." Tobey pouts, yet brings her hand up to his lips and pecks her knuckles, "On the way we can talk about how your 'life-changing advice' came from the Butcher. You know I saw him eat a hotdog off the ground once, right?"

Chapter Text

prag·mat·ic
/praɡˈmadik/
adjective
1. dealing with things sensibly and realistically in a way that is based on practical rather than theoretical considerations.

TOBEY MCCALLISTER'S HOME RESIDENCE, SATURDAY AFTERNOON, 1203 HOURS

It was always in Tobey's nature, even before he turned good, to spend a good chunk of the weekend locked in his room and tinkering with robots. It was a good time killer and a great way to stimulate the mind - at least in his opinion. Of course, thanks to a certain beautiful umber-skinned girl, he didn't really have to rely on building robots to spend his array of free time, but it was still one of his enjoyed hobbies. So, on a sunny Saturday afternoon, that's exactly what he did.

At his room's workbench, he tinkers with his latest creation, since it's not too big and won't take up a lot of time. Though this time, the key difference is his beautiful, beloved girlfriend that's in the room with him, elegantly strung over his bed with her attention slipping between conversing with him and being buried in one of her old young adult novels. It doesn't matter what she's doing or what he's doing, them being together was enough. And after he finishes up, Tobey knows he's going to go join her on his mattress and shower her with kisses, anyway. Like a reward, for him.

"You know, your room is always pretty cluttered." Becky leisurely remarks from where she is, flipping her book shut, "Why don't you ever clean up for me?"

"It's chaotically organized, darling." Tobey hums, still laser-focused on his work as he yanks out some of the wiring, "And besides, you choose to come over here." he adds with a puckish curl to his words. Their playful and flirtatious badinage was always one of the highlights of his day. With his eyes still trained onto his project, he only hears Becky get up from where she is and walk over to him, not registering what she was doing before it was too late.

"Because I like watching you work," her warm arms wrap around his middle from behind him and effectively short-circuits his brain, "You're like a cute little engineer." Becky gently kisses his cheek, chin resting on his shoulder (she's floating a bit in order to do so, since Tobey has a good height advantage at this point).

Tobey's face explodes in terrible heat at the slightest brush of her lips, movements freezing abruptly. It takes a heartbeat, then two, for his mind to reboot from the steaming mush Becky turned it into. "Dearest," he takes a sharp exhale, averting his flustered gaze, "I told you not to do that when I work or I'll electrocute myself by accident." his voice cracks in a mortifying way, which makes the dark flush swallow his entire face. Though he still thoroughly enjoys when Becky has these random bursts of confidence.

"Sorry, sorry," she giggles adorably, unwinding from him, "Too distracting?"

"Something like that." Tobey gently holds onto her wrist before she can fully pull away, "... but I didn't say you had to move."

He can feel her infectious and beautiful grin as she leans back into him, sweetly nuzzling against his jawline. Tobey can barely stifle his growing lovestruck grin as he melts into her hold, affectionately leaning into her and resting his temple against hers while his eyes flicker shut to indulge in this moment. He can feel his brain slowly turn into a pile of pink fluff as the corners of their mouths brush slightly - and he didn't even mind. He's on cloud nine constantly with this girl, she was so perfect and she made him so happy beyond comprehension, so what if he loses a few brain cells with her? All of the world's injustices and imperfections just fade away around Becky; he's only focused on her soft and delicate touch, her sweet scent, the alarm on his robot blaring into his ear...

"Tobey?" his beloved pipes up amusedly, "Your little robot thingy is blinking red."

"Huh?" Tobey mumbles blearily, coming back into consciousness, and then promptly jerks up and returns to his previous position to resolve the issue, "Oh! Right!"

(Yes, perhaps his complete adoration for her was dangerous at times.)

Becky laughs brightly, a melodious sound of mirth that nearly makes him forget that he almost exploded himself a few seconds ago because of how distracted he was. She buries her nose into his shoulder blade, bright and curious eyes peeking out from the crux, "What's this for again?"

"You asked the same thing when you first came in, beautiful," Tobey responds amusedly, "I already told you."

"No, I asked what you were up to." she corrects snidely, "And then you started talking about 'installing nonchargeable circuits', but you never actually told me anything."

"Yes, well-" his cheeks grow a tad pinker, "-that was what I was doing at the present moment." Tobey finishes the delicate task he was performing of fastening the wires before continuing, "Though, if you're asking about its function, this bot is purely rudimentary. It's purpose will be to water flowers."

"Water flowers?" Becky echoes, "That's so ... cute. And unlike you." Her hold tightens on him just the slightest bit, "Is it for anyone?"

"Why, dearest, are you worried I'm gifting my little creations to someone who's not you?" Tobey coos and cranes his head towards her, their cheeks smushing together, "I'd never do such a thing, only you have my heart in your soft and tender hands, and therefore you possess all of my ingenuity." He feels her skin heat up drastically beneath their contact. Her expression is one of flustered annoyance, and it's absolutely dazzling on her.

"That's not what I was talking about and you know it." Becky puffs out her cheeks, and consequently makes him agonize over the fact that she really has no idea how adorable she's being. A whole other level of adorable that muddles his mind because it's too much.

"Mm, perhaps." he intones. Tobey pulls back slightly to press a tiny and indulgent kiss right beside his girlfriend's eye before he fully twists right back to his work. He truly was ten times less productive with her around, but obviously he didn't really care about that, "But to answer your question, this is for the Robotics Club."

There's a pause from what he assumes is Becky zoning back in from the surprise of his startling affection, "W-wait, Robotics Club?"

"That is what I said."

"Tobey." Becky's arms release him, and every surface area of skin where she was previously pressing against is now agonizingly cold. She sits back on his bed, the springs creaking slightly from her weight, "You're joining the Robotics Club?"

"Well, I'm not joining it, per say. My skills are far too advanced to be a measly member." He shuts the control panel and begins to peel his gloves off, "I'm giving this robot as an audition of sorts. I'm going to try and be one of the club leaders." Tobey pushes his goggles up to his head and turns back to her, having finally finished his little project, "I'd like to teach others what I know."

"Tobey, that's so sweet." there's a pretty twinkle in Becky's eye that he takes note of, "And also unlike you."

"What? You don't think I can be sweet?" he asks as makes his way towards her and settles right beside her on the edge of his bed. Teasingly, Tobey pinches both of her cheeks, stretching them out, "You're truly my worst critic. How can you say that after all of my grand gestures for you?"

"Blegh, get away from me!" Becky giggles, her shoulders shaking from the sheer intensity of her laughter. She wraps her fingers around his wrist, "You probably have motor oil all over your hands!"

"I use gloves!"

"Still!"

The pair dissolve into a fit of disgustingly smitten laughter as Tobey releases his grip on her face. Becky lies back onto the mattress as it subsides, and Tobey follows soon after so the two are now positioned side by side, staring up at his ceiling with their legs dangling off the frame. His heart jolts as Becky wraps his hand around his, and he instinctively intertwines their fingers.

"For real, though. I think that's very nice of you." Becky wriggles a bit so her head is tilted towards him, "Why your sudden change of heart?"

Tobey hesitates, letting his free hand alight on his stomach. "It's ... not ... " he emits a sharp exhale through his nose, "Ever since I gave up villainy, I've been wanting to do something... I don't know - better for other people?" he tells her, treading lightly, "And this seems like a great opportunity. I use my incredible talents to inspire some lowlife teenagers." the blonde finishes pridefully.

Becky giggles, "As pragmatic as ever, Tobey."

"Don't I know it." His eyes flutter shut, mien going into a complete state of bliss with the heat of their bodies brushing against each other and the warmth of their conjoined hands. Though, Tobey can feel the burning heat of her stare boring into him, so he opens one eye to peek at his girlfriend, who is indeed looking at him with an odd expectancy. "What is it, dear?"

"Aren't you going to ask me what 'pragmatic' means?"

So cute. A torpid smile tugs at the corner of Tobey's lips, "I know what it means." he shifts onto his side so he can stare at her with an expression he can only define as 'heart-eyes'. Slowly, he begins to bring the hand twined with his to his lips so he can kiss her knuckles, "But you look so adorable when you define something, that I'll let you-"

"Great! Thanks!" Becky sits up with such a brusque velocity that her hand yanks right out of his and nearly takes him along with it. Tobey's eyes fly open with shock while she brings her legs up onto the comforter, practically giddy with delight.

"When someone or something is pragmatic, that means it's practical, or business-like." she says brightly, "So your idea to show your robot-making talents to others is one of much pragmatism." Becky turns back to him, pretty features lifted with elation. It almost makes Tobey smile as he stares back at her with a blank and theatrically sullen expression, hand outstretched with the ghost of her palm still teasing the air around it.

"Oh! Sorry, Tobey." she shuffles on her knees towards him a bit, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Only my heart." Tobey broods, reaching for her hand and pressing it against his chest, "Don't you feel it, Becky? You broke my heart in twain."

A colorful array of laughter jingles from her lips, eyes crinkled with delight, "Stop it, you weirdo."

"Weirdo?" he agonizes histrionically, "Another one - crack! Right down the middle."

"You're so dramatic." Becky carefully tugs her hand free and cups the side of his face, sending a sweet shiver over his skin. Tobey's face softens, heart skipping a beat in anticipation when he notices her leaning down, pouty lips slightly puckered. She kisses him so delicately, so gently, like the slight touch of a butterfly's wings, yet all the more sweeter. Though these kisses were far and few between on account of them being awkward teenagers, Tobey finds the sensation leaves feeling similarly every time; dizzy with love and with his heart jackhammering in his chest.

She pulls back, cheeks gorgeously red and that pretty smile still on her perfect shiny lips. "Th-There." Becky pats his cheek, trying to replicate that teasing energy that encapsulated her moments ago, "Did I heal your heart?"

"You're so pretty." Tobey mumbles dazedly instead, mind swirling with the taste of her lipgloss. He sits up to match her position and drifting close to her once again; it was like a magnetic pull, "I think another kiss will mend me completely."

The flustered Becky splays her fingers against his lips, pushing his head back the slightest bit, "Mm, h-how about you tell me about your robot a bit more?"

Tobey comes out of whatever heaven Becky put him in and frowns petulantly, "How about I kiss you again?"

"Later, dork," she insists stubbornly, "I want to hear about your invention."

Tobey had never been less excited to show someone one of his creation. He slides off his bed in a dramatic huff, "Alright, if you insist." he draws out his words in a heavyset sigh, "But I will hold you to that promise."

Yes, truly, he's never been happier.

FAIR CITY HIGH SCHOOL, 1520 HOURS

At the end of day, Tobey's ready to unveil his latest creation for the Robotics Club. He walks through the halls, robot in a bin so he wasn't just carrying it around (since he was technically banned from doing that). In all honesty, he's a bit nervous, since he's never cooperated well with anyone before on his robots - and here he was about to teach something to a bunch of amateurs.

Not amateurs, be nicer, the voice of his sweet girlfriend rings vividly in his mind. Tobey's face softens to a dreamy smile at the thought of her - it was honestly a reflex at this point. But quickly, he shakes it off. He can't get soft in the belly, not today at least.

He finds the classroom with the meeting, the club advisor standing by the door and holding it open with the students pouring in. Tobey approaches with a tepid smile.

"Mrs. Pittanni." he greets, "I'm here for the meeting, and I have the robot like you said."

Worryingly, a look of remorse crawls over her features, eyes dropping to the floor. Instinctively, Tobey's stomach drops.

"Uh, unfortunately, Mr. McCallister - I can't let you in the Robotics Club." she manages to say solemnly.

Tobey's heart begins to twist grievously in his chest, a cold wave of despondency washing over him. He grits his teeth, brows narrowing. Immediately, he knows why.

But still, he asks, "Why not?"

"Well," Mrs. Pittanni gets fidgety, avoiding his scrutinizing gaze. With shame. "Several of our students have ... expressed discomfort with having you in our club."

Discomfort. He knows what that's code for.

Breathe, Tobey.

He exhales sharply through his nose, attempting to contain the bubbling emotions that threaten to spill out at any moment, "You told me I could be here."

Breathe.

"I'm sorry, Mr. McCallister. I hadn't brought it up with the others, I thought it would be okay, but..."

Breathe.

"I guess not." Tobey gripes, and it comes out a little more bitter than he intimated expected. At his vindictive tone, there's a look that flashes across the advisor's eyes for a split second as she not-so-subtly begins to push into the room. Fear.

She's scared of you. She's scared of how you'd react, the hot-red flashes get even worse, the pit of his stomach curling up sourly, you can't even be angry right now. You can't show any emotions. Because then they'll be right to be scared of you.

"It's fine." is all Tobey can say, turning on his heel to walk back down the hall.

Breathe.

TOBEY MCCALLISTER'S HOME RESIDENCE, 1645 HOURS

"Really? She wouldn't let you join?"

After the debacle, Tobey goes home to blow off some steam, which means he's going to go tinker around with his robots a bit more so he's doing something that's not destructive. Because right now, he's so angry and frustrated that the urge to stampede through town is a strong one. But he's better than that, he KNOWS it. He'd called Becky to invite her over to do some homework together, since now he doesn't have anything to fill the void in after school and he wants to see her. Becky is nicer and so much better than the Robotics Team, and Mrs. Pittanni, and all his stupid classmates that were scared of him. And now, he was ranting to her about what happened, though he tries to make it seem like it isn't a bother, when it absolutely is.

He doesn't know why, but he tends to avoid how having the public fear him makes him feel around Becky. And he KNOWS for a fact it's not because he thinks he can't trust her. Tobey would trust her with anything.

"Yeah." he replies to her, where she's seated on his bed, trying to subdue any and all emotions out of his voice, "That was a waste of a robot."

"Oh, I guess..." Becky furrows her brows, "But that was harsh of them to do to you."

"I'm used to it." Tobey sighs, taking a momentary break so he can speak to her about it. He makes his way over and sits right beside her, their shoulders pressing together as he fixes his eyes to the ground, "But it's fine. It's not my problem if they're scared of me, that just means they won't ever get to revel in my glory." he jokes, bumping his knee to hers.

But she only looks deeper in thought, tapping her fingers on her thigh, "I know. I wish everyone could see you've changed, I wish they could see the side of you I see."

"Maybe not that one, gorgeous." He hums airily, pecking her cheek ever so gently, "Though I would love to have a school full of admirers."

"Shut up, you know that's not what I meant." she murmurs, though he's always delighted to see the red dusting bloom into her face, "Doesn't it bother you the way everyone treats you, Tobey?"

Breathe.

"No," Tobey says a little too quickly, before clearing his throat, "Why should it? I have friends, and I have you."

"But they're not even trying to get to know you!" Becky argues fervently, "How are they supposed to if they don't even give you a chance?"

Breathe.

"Why do you even care so much?" he snaps, surprisingly cold, "It's not like it affects you."

At the sight of Becky being taken aback by his words, his guilt increases tenfold. How could he talk to his sweet girlfriend like that? "Oh, darling, I-I'm so, so sorry. I didn't..." he swallows thickly, closing his eyes, and hoping that the ground swallows him up, "I don't know why I said that."

"I think you do." Becky's arms wrap around herself, giving him that pleading look that hurts him more than anything, "You can tell me, Tobey."

Tobey envelops her in a tight embrace, nuzzling against her hair, "No, my love. Truly, and deeply, it was a slip of the tongue. I've just been a bit stressed..." he inhales sharply, taking in her sweet and comforting scent, "... but I would never, ever speak to you that way. My one and only, my everything-"

"Tobey, it's fine." his lovely girlfriend reassures, her hands rubbing up and down his back, "It's not that big of a deal, I promise-"

"I yelled at you-"

"You didn't yell at me, you just got a bit snippy." She untangles from him a bit so she's looking him in the eyes, her pretty features strained in disquietude, "It happens, Tobey." Becky reaches out to caress his cheek in one hand, gently running the pad of her thumb under his eye. Almost immediately, he melts under her touch, leaning against her palm. She was so, so warm, and so good - how deplorable was he to get impatient with her?

Maybe they were right. He was still a villain.

"It doesn't matter," he mumbles, fingers brushing against her hand, "I'm so, so sorry, my love - from the bottom of my heart. Please forgive me."

"If it makes you feel better, then apology accepted." Becky says, though her face deepens the slightest bit more in worry which rings alarm bells in his head, "Are you alright? You look like you're about to cry."

Crap. Quickly, Tobey realizes how tensed up he's become and relaxes his muscles, blinking hard to push back whatever tears threaten to rise. He would NOT cry in front of her. "Sorry, I just got really upset. But I'm fine."

Becky still doesn't smile, her beautiful face still terribly creased in despondency. All Tobey wants to do is make her happy and smiling again, he doesn't like it when he's worrying her. "Are you sure?" she asks meekly, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes, yes. Tell her, tell her everything.

"I'm sure." he says instead, twitching his mouth into a small smile, "There's nothing to talk about."

He hopes that relieves all of Becky's qualms, but his attempts to relieve her are ineffectual; she's still frowning. Becky should never be without a smile on her face, so he needs to take matters into his own hands. Tobey peels her digits off his face and carefully presses a sweet kiss right on the back of her hand. Slowly and surely, the color returns to his beloved's face, the corners of her lips quirking upward as a small giggle peals from her mouth.

"Alright, alright." she sighs sweetly, "I trust you."

(That's like a knife to his gut. All he can do is smile.)

FAIR CITY HIGH SCHOOL, 1534 HOURS

There's an uglier side to having almost everyone is school either hates you or fears you. Tobey finds that out when he's walking down the halls a few weeks later.

The pain of the entire Robotics Club rejecting him was nothing but a mere memory with the effort of pushing it to the back of his mind and not dwelling on the open wounds it left on his psyche. Though, it would soon reopen with a newfound sting as his hearing picks up a less than pleasant conversation.

"...God, and can you believe that Botsford girl got on the Brain Brawl team again?"

"Oh, you mean that little freshman taking 10th grade Honors English?"

Tobey freezes at the words, locating their voices from around the corner, only blocked by a wall of lockers.

"Yeah, after I spent the whole weekends studying, too." The pinchy little voice scoffs, "That girl has some weird, supernatural skills."

"Maybe she cheated," the other one says, "She's dating that villain .... the robot kid, right? Maybe he made her something for it."

His blood runs cold.

Breathe.

"Ohmygosh, you're right. Like a weird robot speaker." A pause, "Do you think if we bring it up to the the principal they'll suspend her from the team for a bit-?"

She's getting hurt because of you. Because you were a villain. All you do is bring everybody down.

There's a series of unfortunate events that occur after Tobey hears that. First, something inside of him snaps - and he bursts forward with way too much vigor.

"Hey!" Tobey blasts aggressively, pointing to the two girls, "You better not-!"

He doesn't even get to finish his threat when they scream and cling to each other, practically wracked with fear. "Crap - he heard us!" "Please don't kill us with robots, we were only joking, we swear!"

The blonde stares at them, at the sheer horror painted over their faces. They were scared. Of him.

He grits his teeth, his stomach twisting in disgust, "I wasn't going to-"

(The situation worsens.)

There's a stocky junior boy that enters the ring from behind him, his features dipped in irritation, "What do you think you're doing? Are you threatening them?"

Why did they always assume the worst of him? Tobey stares back, holding his hands up as he's closed in on, "N-no! I wasn't-!"

The situation is crescendoing at a rapid pace, and he doesn't know how to stop it, or how to wriggle his way out of it. It's hard when it looks like he's cornered two teenage girls who appear to be scared out of their minds.

So honestly, all he can do is inwardly sigh as he's unceremoniously and purposefully shoved aside, his head slamming into the locker rather painfully, his glasses shattering at inconceivable pain shooting through his system.

This, he thinks, is highly inconvenient.

TOBEY MCCALLISTER'S HOME RESIDENCE, 1520 HOURS

And like he expects, Tobey's the only one who gets suspended from that altercation. And he gets a nasty black eye.

It's only a two day suspension, which he supposes could be worse. The only thing he's scared about is telling his girlfriend, Becky Botsford.

So, he doesn't.

He tells Becky that he's sick and to not come over under any circumstances because he is incredibly contagious, but he will be up and at them soon. Tobey can blame his black eye on a doorframe, which is the lie he'd told his mother. He doesn't even call Becky, he leaves an message for her. Because he knows if he hears her sweet voice, there's a chance his resolve won't be strong enough and he'll buckle like the smitten idiot he was.

Day two, and the final day of his suspension, he's in bed finishing his homework. It's been a rough couple of days, not just for his injury, but being alone with his thoughts wasn't ideal after the situation. It was muddled storm of unrest and self-loathing, but at least he had all of his assignments to pull his mind out of it.

However, whatever occupies his mind momentarily dissipates when there's a knock on his shut bedroom door. Assuming it's his mother, he just calls from his bed, "Come in."

Though, when Becky emerges, he quickly wishes he had asked who it was. Tobey, at first, panics at the sight of her, because she's not supposed to be here - and moreso, she looks very anguished and upset, which most likely means she knows what happened.

As Tobey clamors for an explanation, staring back at his girlfriend, all he can stammer is, "B-Becky! Uhh - are you?"

"Well," she retorts bitterly, "I just found out my boyfriend's been lying to me - so not great."

TOBEY MCCALLISTER'S HOME RESIDENCE, 1531 HOURS, OH NOOOOOOOOO

There are no words to describe the guilt and terror that Tobey McCallister is wracked with at the current moment. Guilt for being found out, for even lying to his beloved girlfriend in the first place when he could have talked it out with her, for not telling her these things. And the terror, the sheer dread that impounds in him because he fears the sentiment that's incoming, that she'll look at him with her dark, shiny eyes and end things with him. That he'll lose her, the only thing in his life he ever did right, because he was too stupid.

(She was told second-hand, and he's sure that makes the pain sting worse.)

"How could you lie to me?" Becky continues, her voice shaky as she sits on the other side of his bed. She's talking and avoiding eye contact, which is like another slice to his bleeding heart, "I-I'm... I'm your girlfriend." she tilts her head to him for a second a split second and he can see, her big eyes sparkling with the beginnings of tears, "Is it... is it me? Did I do something?" she asks with a deathly quiet tone.

"No! No, no... of course it's not - oh, darling ..." he scoots over to her and tenderly takes her by the shoulder, the other hand tilting her chin to him, "You could never do anything, I promise. This is all me, I'm just being stupid..." Tobey gently swipes his thumb under her eye to fight off a tear, "Please don't cry, love."

She blinks, and much to his heartbreak another tear falls down her cheek, "S-stop - stop comforting me!" Becky cries, and wrenches his hands off her, "You're the one with the black eye!"

Tobey smiles faintly, taking this moment to intertwine their hands, "I think it gives me character."

"I'm serious, Tobey." Becky sniffs, though she doesn't tear her hands away which makes hope blossom in his chest, "Why did you lie to me?"

Tobey realizes can't worm his way out of this one. There's no lie he could tell that could ever cover up this big of a wound in their relationship. And he's not sure he wants to, anyway. He's seen how it hurts her, and in his opinion, that's the most egregious sin.

You need to open up. Talk to her.

And breathe.

He squeezes her hands, trying to keep himself grounded. With a deep breath, Tobey stabilizes himself, though he's unable to look her in the eyes, "Becky, you're one of the best things I have in my life. And I mean it." he begins shakily, "You ... you were the first thing I did right, even though I nearly ruined it all." the blonde steals a quick glance at her before he continues, willing himself, "I didn't want to lie to you. I hated every second, but I didn't want to burden you with my problems even more. You're so perfect - and I like being strong for you." Without even knowing it, his eyes begin to water, shoulders sinking into his chest, "I'm terrible, Becky. I'm a villain, and everyone hates me-"

"Tobey."

"-they were all just waiting for me to fail, and that's what I did. I failed because I wanted to protect you, I failed at protecting you. I can't even be useful to you - I'm hurting you just by being here-"

"Tobey, stop saying-"

"-and I lied to you because I was ashamed! What kind of a boyfriend does that? You're so perfect, and brilliant, and kind, a-and I'm just a lousy villain who tricked himself into thinking he was ever good enough for you-"

"Tobey, stop this self castigation at once!"

Tears. When his eyes fly open in surprise he realizes they've been free-falling without permission. Though he's more stunned at Becky's outburst, looking to her in bewilderment and momentarily releasing her hands which he'd been gripping more and more fiercely as he went on.

Becky yelps in embarrassment and smacks her hands over her mouth, "Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to raise my voice like that - I was just ..." she sighs, sliding her fingers over her knees, "I can't stand to let you sit there and talk badly about yourself."

Tobey hones all of his attention onto her, wiping his face with his sleeve, "Sorry." he croaks, smiling at her.

"Don't-!" she exhales thinly, "Please don't apologize." Becky perches herself on her knees and places her hands onto his shoulders, "Tobey, I need you know that none of that is true. You're not a failure... those other people don't know what they're talking about." she pulls him close, resting her chin on his shoulder, "They don't know you like I do. They don't know how sweet and thoughtful and creative you can be ... and they don't know you've been trying your best to change."

Tobey feels tears prick at his eyes again as his arms wind around her back, burying his face into her hair. "And please, don't ever think you're not good enough for me, Tobey." she mewls, shifting back so she could look at him. Their arms hang loosely around each other in a mock embrace while Becky beams at him, though still somewhat sopping with unshed tears, "Because I'm far from perfect, too."

"Oh, love. You're so magnificent." he blinks the rest of the tears out of his eyes, heart swollen and full with her eloquence, "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"Be yourself." she giggles lightly, "I like who you are."

"But I want to be better, for you." says Tobey, briefly considering the merit of what he was saying, "But I am really sorry I lied to you, angel. I guess I was just ... embarrassed."

"It's okay." Becky comforts, and cups his cheek with one hand, gently running her thumb under his bruised eye, though careful not to brush it, "You don't have to hide things from me."

"I know." he remarks softly, watching her closely, "And I really didn't mean to." Tobey can tell she's honing in on his black eye, so he adds, "I'm okay, I promise. It barley hurts anymore."

"I know ... I know ..." her cheeks puff out a bit in such an adorable way that he's momentarily disoriented, "But still... and I can't believe you got suspended for that! I could have helped you if you told me - like a very strongly worded letter to the principal."

"My reputation's taken so many blows already, that it doesn't really matter." Tobey smiles ruefully.

"Of course it matters!" Becky chides, and carefully slides her hand from his face and down his arm, capturing his digits within hers once more, "And I can help with with that, too. We can show everyone that you've changed - we'll come up with something, together."

Together.

An enigmatic thrill ripples throughout his body, a scalding heat flowering from his neck, to his face, to his ears. It's embarrassing how much exhilaration he can get from one word - from a lone implication. It's a dizzying warmth that rushes from heart to all over his body, coating it in a blissful euphoria. Together, together, together - it pounds in his head, the seed taking roots in his brain to it would flower to the rest of his subconscious. It was something he wanted to remember forever.

"Yeah, together." Tobey belabors, "You and me ... Becky and Tobey, boyfriend and girlfriend, lovers, together always-"

So, she melted a bit of his brain.

Becky snorts and erupts into a fit of giggles, giving his hand a slight squeeze. He burns impossibly more, "I'm sorry. That was dorky of me." he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly missing the articulate and suave tongue of his that could fluster his girlfriend to no end.

"Don't be sorry," she takes him by the face, drawing it closer to her own, "I think it's adorable."

And when she kisses him on the mouth, impossibly sweet and sodden with their intermingled tears, Tobey thinks he's okay with being dorky, too.

TOBEY MCCALLISTER'S LAIR, 1545 HOURS

Clair cracks open the door minutes later, checking up on her son, and is blessed with the beautiful sight of them cuddled up closely together, very asleep and with gentle smiles on their faces. It's a far stretch to how miserable Tobey was when he came home suspended, and she's grateful for that.

(But she snaps the photo anyway, sneakily making her getaway.)