Chapter Text
Since as long as he could remember, Stevie was alone.
Yes, he had his parents, but they weren’t much help. His parents were overbearing and overprotective, instilling absurdly complex rules. Everytime Stevie tried to make a friend, his mother ended up ruining it by telling said friend about all the rules and restrictions they had. And his father didn’t say anything. Stevie loved his parents, but they needed to calm down.
And honestly, he wasn’t too excited for middle school. He heard things, from his cousins. They told him that kids like himself got bullied, harsher than primary. That kids like him were dunked in toilet seats, beaten up, or worse, coddled by teachers.
It was terrifying, to say the least.
So, when he rolled into the courtyard of his new middle school and everyone stared at him, of course he was petrified. He was in the gifted class, of course. It wasn’t any better, because hardly anyone spoke to him- hell, they hardly spoke to each other- but at least he was at peace and he could focus on his work. On his first day, he sat alone in a corner of the schoolyard eating the lunch his mother packed him. Gluten-free bread, organic lettuce, ketchup and tomatoes, farm-raised, local chicken (but only a small amount!) and homemade mayonnaise. It tasted like grass.
In class, the teacher gave them more work before asking them to introduce themselves, because she had forgotten to in the morning. How could a gifted teacher forget something so important?
They went in a circle, table by table. Stevie went seventh. It took a while for him to introduce himself. Embarrassing.
“My name… is Stevie… Kenarban… I am… twelve… and I like… comics” He breathed.
Ms. Miller blinked at him. “And your birthday?”
“May… Seventh… Nineteen… Eighty… Eight”
She nodded. “Okay! Great to meet you, Stevie Kenarban. Uhm… Dabney! You’re next!” She called. She kid next to stevie practically jumped. He had been chewing his nails and was hunched over. Nerves.
Stevie shrugged as he went back to listening to the other introductions. Most of the kids were stuttering from fear, possible social anxiety. Stevie had that, of course. He had everything.
✎ᝰ.
A week passed. And somehow, Steve had yet to be shoved in a toilet, or whatever. It seemed because of his… situation, he got a pass. No one was to lay a finger on him, he was off limits.
It was wonderful.
✎ᝰ.
That friday, there was a new kid. Not like, new new, but he was in a regular class before going into the gifted class.
He was pretty, with bright, wide blue eyes and thick eyebrows, and the most beautiful shade of brown hair. He always had a scowl on his face, and for some reason, Stevie thought it was cute.
“Class, this is Malcolm. He’s going to be with us from now on! Everyone, please welcome him. Be on your absolute best behavior, please.” Ms. Miller spoke, gripping Malcolm’s left shoulder. The class entered into a chorus of ‘hello’s and ’hi’s.
The boy, Malcolm, was seated beside him. The kid that sat there previously had been moved closer to the teacher, to make sure his bitten off nails wouldn’t fly everywhere and disrupt the class.
“I’m… Stevie…” Stevie introduced. Maybe this was his chance at making a friend.
Malcolm looked up at him, his eyebrows creasing. “Malcolm. Nice to meet you, Stevie.”
Stevie smiled as he looked back at Ms. Miller, focusing on both the lesson and Malcolm’s fidgeting. Well, his focus on the fidgeting was completely accidental, but he couldn’t stop darting his eyes towards Malcolm’s hands. He was twirling a pencil between his thumb and index finger. It was mesmerizing to watch, hypnotizing even. It distracted him.
He shook his head, trying once again to concentrate on whatever Ms. Miller was talking about. Algebra. He knew this already, his summer school books had prepared him. The class bored him.
"…Cosine… Blah, blah… Hypothénuse…" Ms. Miller droned. She tried to add energy to her lesson, but the only kids who were listening were Lloyd, Dabney and a fee other kids whose names he could not remember.
The bell rang. As soon as the first ring was heard, Malcolm stood, looking around to see if anyone else did. Stevie would’ve, if he was able to. Anywho, no one stood. Malcolm excused himself, then sat right down as Stevie watched. It must’ve been embarrassing.
"It’s alright, Malcolm. Class, you are dismissed for lunch."
The children packed their things neatly, stacking books and notebooks in orderly piles before slowly heading out for lunch. Malcolm, on the other hand, practically ran out of the classroom.
Stevie was the last to leave, naturally. Ms. Miller helped him put his things away. It was kind of her, but he really didn’t need it. Previously, he had tried to mention that he was capable of putting his things away, but she just shushed him before he got to his point.
He rolled out of the classroom, making his way to the courtyard with his lunchbox on his legs.
✎ᝰ.
Stevie found himself in the courtyard, making his way to the corner where he usually stayed. On his way there, he was Malcolm.
The boy sat alone on one of the picnic tables, eating. He looked annoyed, the same bored expression he had in class on his pretty face.
Stevie looked around. No one was near him they all seemed to stay away from his, as if they knew he was a Krelboyne and therefore kept their distance. Either way, it looked like Malcolm didn’t have any friends. So, Stevie took the grand decision to go over himself. What harm was there? He could befriend someone, something he’s been wishing to do for years.
He took a deep breath- well, the deepest breath he could take- and wheeled himself over.
Malcolm looked at Stevie as he got closer. He furrowed his eyebrows, again, and opened his mouth as if he were about to say something. He didn’t.
"Hi… Malcolm." Stevie breathed. He placed his lunchbox on the table and began to take his food out. Malcolm just stared.
Silence.
"Are you… going to… eat?" Stevie asked. It was getting awkward, and he was starting to regret sitting there.
"Oh. Yeah." Malcolm looked back at his plate. On that plateau, in all it’s glory, was the cafeteria lunch. Pasta and… mystery sauce? Oh, and a milk carton with an orange purrée. Ew.
Alas, Stevie smiled. He had made a friend!