Hello, folks. Welp, I don't have much to say for myself.

I DIDN'T CLIMB ABOARD THE BANDWAGON. IT RAN ME OVER AND I'M STUCK IN ITS GRILL.

Wagons don't have grills, do they?

Huh.

Uh, anyway, the first story mentioned is A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner. (I plan to warn you ahead of time that I'm going to be referencing particular stories so I won't spoil them if you're interested in reading them yourself.) The other one is The Cask of Amontillado by Poe.

What's this? Am I coercing people into reading classic literature? I really have become a monster. o3o

Anyway, I try not to dwell on them any more than is necessary for the plot, so bear with me if you're so inclined.

Chapter 1

The day had been an exceptionally normal one, although the tension building amongst the student body from being trapped within their prison of bricks and mortar was threatening to burst the windows. Christmas break was over and New Year's Day had passed in the blink of an eye. Finals were too far off to be a threat and too close to allow anyone to smile honestly. The violence with which the two hundred adolescents shoved themselves from their seats at 2:30 could easily have been mistaken for a small-scale earthquake.

The mush that had once been Peach Creek's football field meant that there would, again, be no practice, leaving Kevin edging from listless toward aggravation. He waved Nazz off, earning an irritated scoff from one of his teammates lingering near her, and unchained his bike from the rack in the parking lot.

When he saw the scrawny genius humming and trotting down the sidewalk, almost home already because honors students get out a period early, it didn't occur to the athlete not to pick on him. The definition of cliché that he was, Double Dee was clad in an oversized sweater with a stupid band of diamonds wrapping around the chest, reading a thick, purple book, one he'd seen kids tossing in their lockers for the past month and a half.

In the span of two seconds, he had steered his bike across the road and leaned over the battered sidewalk, smacking the paperback from the genius's hands before Eddward knew anyone was beside him. It clattered onto the asphalt, spilling yellowed pages from its fragile spine. There was a strangled cry as he swerved away, and instead of pedaling off, the redhead opted for skidding to a halt on the other side of the street to watch the Edd's reaction.

The black-capped kid was standing still, his hands balled into fists and his teeth bared. His face was staining red and, startling Kevin, there seemed to be tears in his eyes. He sucked in a breath, let it out sharply, then inhaled once more. His voice trembled as he spoke.

"Do you know why the world is the way it is? Because adult children like you, Kevin, are content to live your merry lives completely ignorant to the true meaning of humanity - of self-awareness - of philosophy!" He paused to suck in a breath, shoulders drawn up tight and his tiny fists shaking. "And the only solace I find is that you and the rest of your ilk will never grace the halls of human history with your wit or ingenuity. You will die, and your absence of an impact on the course of the human race will doom you to be forgotten. You will amount to nothing."

Kevin gaped at the scrawny, black-capped boy, his hands hanging limply at his sides. Eddward spun on his heel and stormed, sweater diamonds and all, onto his porch, slamming the door behind him.

"Geez," Kevin finally found his voice to say, finding his handles and nudging the kickstand back up. "Dork."

-x-

The petite high-school scholar spent the next approximate week undeterred from his studies, writing reviews on several dark-matter articles, applying for a plethora of scholarships, and testing out different detergents and taking notes on how they made his clothing feel. Ed was out of school due to food poisoning (Double Dee suspected that he had attempted to eat something in the wood shop, as this had proven to be the culprit the last two times,) and Eddy was grounded for being caught with magazines that were part of his class on human anatomy, he swore. The chill of winter was ebbing away in bursts of green and patches of damp sunlight. He strode up to his door on Thursday afternoon, clutching the mail to his chest and fumbling in the zip-pocket of his bag for his house keys. He certainly wasn't expecting a tall, lanky redhead to be leaned against the pale gold siding of his house, hands shoved in baggy pockets, and thus was not prepared at all for him. Eddward let out a profoundly undignified shriek.

"Chill, shrimp," came Kevin's cool retort, his bored expression downcast.

"I am obligated to ask what you are doing loitering on my meticulously manicured lawn." The black-capped boy's eyes were enormous despite the anger in his voice.

"I was just thinkin'."

Knees trembling ever so slightly as he awaited a satisfying explanation, Eddward blinked, molding the stack of envelopes to the front of his auburn jacket. The quarterback kicked at a dandelion that was shriveled up on the sidewalk. "I'm kinda hard on you and your dweeby friends, and you were pretty pissed the other day when I busted up your book. I figure since ya spend so much time dorking out over those things…" Hesitating, he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, shrugging tightly. "There's gotta be something to all that Hemingway crap."

Eddward's jaw dropped before he could stop it, and he snapped it closed. "Why … yes. I personally believe that there is merit to the western literary canon."

"So you could explain that stuff to me, right? Since I'm takin' the class you're in next semester."

"O-of course." When Kevin's disinterested eyes met his, Double Dee forced down the nervousness rising like bile in his throat, swallowing thickly. "I wasn't expecting company, but … if you'd be willing to wait for a bit, I could make sandwiches…"

"Nah. It's cool. 'M hangin' out with Rolf today anyways."

The silence between them was completely empty, the cool air adrift with a thousand specific nuances of disbelief and discomfort.

"Just plan on it next week. Like Wednesday." It took the redhead's prompting for the genius to realize that a response was merited. "You good with Wednesday?"

"Uh, y-yes!" At Eddward's chirp Kevin nodded once. "Yes, absolutely. Wednesday is, in fact, ideal. I look forward to our meeting of minds."

Heart thumping in his chest and hands so clammy that the mail was warping beneath them, Double Dee smiled his most brilliant smile. The jock looked at his shifting feet, then up, gaze resting somewhere off to the left of his head.

"Sweet. I'll meet ya here, I guess."

Again, he nodded, and in a tense movement the redhead lurched from the wall and returned to his bike. Eddward swallowed again, measuring his pulse, and pulled the keys out of his bag.

-x-

The following days passed oddly for Double Dee. Some hours passed normally, some were spend consumed with inexplicable anxiety, which the genius attributed to the load of coursework he was taking, despite the fact that the daunting pressure had always given him a sense of purpose before. Sometimes he thought that it was caused by Eddy, who had recently decided that cunt was the most beautiful and applicable word ever invented, prompting at least one lecture a day by Eddward on how misogyny was perpetrated by men who were so insecure in their masculinity that they had to belittle the opposite gender to feel adequate. Eddy would roll his eyes and stab at his macaroni salad, and Ed, in all his genuine delight, would remind their short friend that soggy gym tees were, indeed, unnecessary. Occasionally Eddward would suspect that his upcoming studying session was the source of his nerves, which he supposed made sense. Kevin had been, as Eddy would insist, the bane of the trio's existence for several years, though it could be argued that Eddy's constant patronizing of the rest of the cul-de-sac was why everyone was so frequently irritated with the three. After they'd left to search for Eddy's brother, there had been a noticeable shift in the group's demeanor toward Eddward and his best friends, and now, there was very little interaction between himself and Kevin, if any at all.

It was profoundly strange for the multifaceted athlete to be petitioning him for academic enrichment now.

Excluding the few moments when he would wake up overcome with nervousness, his chest aflutter and his hands fisted in his neatly-made sheets, the weekend and the pair of days following resembled normal.

When the final bell rang on Wednesday afternoon, fear gripped him so tight that Eddward wasn't sure he could stand without fainting.

"What's the matter with you, Sockhead?"

Muttering under his breath, Double Dee spared Eddy a quick glance as he stepped carefully through the flood of bodies crashing down the hallway.

"Double Dee is less here than a Chinaman on Neptune," Ed observed, earning a nod from the shorter of the pair.

"Are ya coming over tonight, Double Dee? You haven't given me a straight answer all week. Is it because of that stupid math test you were yammerin' on about all weekend?"

"I just would like to be alone tonight," Eddward finally said, his voice rising to an audible level. Lying about Kevin made a twinge of guilt twist in his gut, but it was easier than explaining that he was meeting the kid that Eddy despised more than watching the Home Shopping Channel with his grandma. "I'll accompany you gentlemen to the movies on Friday, however, as scheduled."

"Okay." Eddy shrugged. "S'all you needed to say, Sockhead."

Nobody was around when the genius reached his driveway, and Eddward let out a small, peculiar chuckle, stepping inside with relief. He shed his shoes and thoroughly washed his hands and face before changing into a fresh shirt and sweatpants, and he dawned a pair of socks that were delightfully fluffy from a washing in the detergent he had chosen as his favorite. He unpacked his book bag, finding the pencil in his desk drawer that was reserved for Wednesday homework, and as he sat down to open his math book, there was a knock at the door.

The mass of his stomach felt as if it had multiplied a thousand fold, causing it to crash through his torso and onto the floor.

It took a few moments of panicked breathing (in through the nose, out through the mouth) to convince the white blots of anxiety to recede from his vision at the prospect of the towering bully looming on his doorstep. Delicate fingers giving a shudder, Eddward grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open. "Why h-hello, Kevin."

Clad in a collared zip-up jacket and his usual backwards cap, the redhead glanced up at the smaller kid's face. "S'up dork?"

"I wasn't convinced that you'd be coming," Edd stated, forcing the flutter out of his words. "My apologies! Come in."

Kevin kicked his shoes off, scooting them onto the mat next to the door. "Bike's being repainted," he explained gruffly, jerking the arm that was looped around a skateboard. "It okay if I…?"

"Oh, absolutely! Just leave it wherever you'd like. Can I interest you in some lemonade? A soda, perhaps?"

"Sure, whatever." The black-capped boy backed up a step, smiling politely and wondering why the grime-covered wheels of the skateboard against the wall seemed like such a triviality at the moment. "Thanks," his guest uttered awkwardly as he turned his back and hurried into the kitchen.

Upon returning with two sodas, one diet and one normal, Double Dee asked whether they should set up at his desk in his bedroom or out in the living room. "Living room's fine" was the athlete's reply, so the scholar grabbed two coasters and set their beverages down before padding wordlessly to his room to retrieve his textbook and a pad of paper.

"Well then, Kevin-" Edd seated himself on the opposite end of the couch from the boy with the looming presence, placing his book so its bottom was parallel with the coffee table's edge. "What would you like to start with?"

The redhead sipped his pop, resting an ankle on a knee. "What's in it?"

"The class is divided into three sections, the first being study of the short story, the second being poetry reading, and the third being a handful of famous plays." Already he was beginning to feel a little more in-control of circumstances. "We could start with short stories, if you have no preference."

"Sure. That's fine."

-x-x-x-

Kevin said very little as Eddward flipped through the table of contents and selected a few interesting stories. The first he chose was about an old woman who was strange and fat and disliked by the entire town. The redhead's eyes fluttered shut, bored, as his impromptu tutor began to read, his delicate fingers sweeping across the pages. Kevin tuned in about halfway through, intrigued by the light in the younger nerd's eyes, and forced himself to listen to the eager rise and fall of his small voice. She banged some guy and the townspeople had their panties in a bunch about it, then he disappeared one day. His interest was piqued when Edd turned a flimsy, translucent page and cleared his throat softly before setting into the last section. The chick got old and died, and she somehow had a slave up until this point who took off as soon as the men from town came knocking. Hearing the 'n-word' spill past the nerd's lips made Kevin's eyebrows pop up almost to the brim of his hat, but Double Dee kept reading. They went into her house and the blinds made everything look pink, and they followed the stench up to her bedroom.

The man who'd disappeared years ago was in her bed, rotted down to bones.

Eddward's dark eyes flashed to him, a small smile flickering across his face. "A remarkable idea, isn't it?"

The sincerity in his voice made Kevin sniff in amusement. "Sorta, I guess."

A half-smile stretched across the scholar's face. "You wouldn't consider finding a man murdered and rotting away beside the neighborhood loon remarkable?"

"Well- yeah." Kevin shrugged one shoulder and fidgeted. "But it's not real. It's just words."

The expression on Eddward's face was unlike anything he'd seen before. He grabbed a swatch of pages and flipped them to, evidently, exactly what he was looking for. Unseen, Kevin's eyes widened. Double Dee cleared his throat and scooted despite the fact that his bottom went no closer to the coffee table.

"The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as best I could; but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge."

"Oh my God." The black-capped kid glanced up as Kevin scrubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes.

"Kevin, I must insist, this story in particular is-"

"Dude, come on. Did you just hear the words that came out of your mouth? I don't think I can do this."

"The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as best I could."

Eddward leaned forward, holding the book out and snapping it gently as if whipping the creases out of clean linen. Kevin's mouth closed at the volume the dork's voice had risen to. It was preposterous.

And interesting.

Kevin quieted down to listen as the smaller boy went on. The story was ridiculous and the writing was terrible, but the delight in his face as he read it was completely real. The jock tuned in and out of focus with the story, watching the animated boy through half-lidded eyes as the self-obsessed main character led his enemy through the tombs to a cask of wine before burying him alive with it.

Finishing with a flourish, Double Dee looked up at him. "That one was more appealing to one just dipping his toes into the pool of literary wealth, yes?"

"Ahh-" Rubbing the back of his head, Kevin avoided the other's gaze. "Yeah, I guess. It was a little better. I mean … Edmond Allan Poe does all the creepy shit, right?"

"Edgar, Kevin."

"Huh?"

"Edgar Allan Poe."

"Oh." Kevin stared at the ceiling, making an almost inaudible whistle into the awkward silence.

"But yes, Poe is known as the first author to truly capitalize on horror and the idea of insanity. He drew from his own experience quite a bit, having been adopted after his mother died, and after choosing frivolity over diligence and flunking out of college. He married his thirteen-year-old cousin who died of tuberculosis just over a decade later, and he drank himself into a stupor for the remainder of his life. He was found in a ditch, allegedly killed by a drug and alcohol overdose."

The jock stared. "Wait. Seriously?"

"Yes," nodded the black-haired boy. "His unhappiness is believed to be the source of his vivid and dark imagination."

"So he didn't, like, sit around listening to piano music all day in frilly pants?"

"…no. He didn't."

"Dang." The athlete reclined against the back of the couch and crossed his arms. "That's pretty hardcore."

"Indeed." While his tone was calm, delight glimmered in the scholar's dark eyes at his small victory. A sudden beep caused him to jump, and he raised his arm to inspect his watch with a childlike innocence. "My! Is it five already?"

"Guess I better bounce." The redhead's sudden movement as he climbed to his feet made Edd jolt again, a shrill noise escaping his lips. The shorter boy hopped up, elbows flying out as he rushed to the door. Kevin eyed him warily, hands stuffed in his pants pockets, and strode over to shove his feet into his shoes. It took everything in Double Dee not to wince at the redhead's blatant disregard for the function of shoelaces.

"Thank you again for visiting … it's always a pleasure to discuss literature with fellow classmates." And it had been a worthwhile challenge explaining its worth to the least academically-oriented individual he knew, however brief and ineffective his attempts may have been. Kevin tucked his skateboard under his arm and straightened to his full height and a puff of cologne drifted by Eddward. Something cheap and popular, no doubt, but not the overpowering stench he was accustomed to gagging on as he weaved between hulking jocks in the halls at school. A bit lamely, Double Dee pulled open the door and allowed another polite smile to settle on his face. "I'll see you at school." Kevin's stare was unreadable.

"Thanks, again, Double Dweeb." He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "Whaddaya say, next week, same day?"

A genuine moment of confusion passed and Eddward only blinked at the jock. "A-ah, yes! Of course! Classic literature again, I presume?"

"Yeah." The genius swallowed, gazing self-consciously up at the brooding athlete. "That's cool. Thanks."

"Farewell," he called, waving at Kevin's back as he dropped his board and accelerated swiftly towards the pavement. Eddward closed the door softly, locking it for the night, and turned to survey the spread of notes and unused pencils on the table. Strangely, tremors of anxiety seemed to be ebbing out into his limbs, and the boy sank to the floor, releasing a shaky sigh of relief.

Having read quite a bit of fanfiction after writing this chapter, it's become pretty apparent that everyone has attempted a "Double Dee tutors Kevin and there are blatant sexual overtones" fic. I hope I can make this one in some way unique. The idea is just so completely addictive once you've seen c2ndy2c1d's art that I can't help myself. Expect the next chapter in like four hours, because I've been writing this for the last few nights instead of sleeping or, like, breathing.

Review, please? :3