For Misguidedperfectionist and every other Karezi fan who had to endure school after such heartbreaking news.
Karkat had been preparing for this day ever since Terezi had clawed her way into his life. The moment he met her, there was no mistaking she was someone important, someone a schizophrenic God had put into his life in a rare case of superfluous magnanimity. She was a girl who came along once in every millennia; finding her, out of the millions and millions of people was like finding a Chanel original in the clearance bin at Ross. She was a needle in haystack girl. Meeting her was the only thing he had ever done right in his entire life.
It was a crisp September day three years ago that he made his impossible find. The vibrant wonder that was Terezi Pyrope hit him like a Chevy Silverado.
Why a twelve-year-old girl was even driving a Chevy Silverado in the first place was never a thing he had questioned.
He'll never forget the way she frantically jumped out of the car and, not having any medical background, carried (dragged) him back to her house.
Oh, how the years pass. It's seems like just yesterday.
Sometimes he wishes it was just yesterday.
Because if he remembers yesterday as well as he remembers something from over three years ago, then he knows that it's Dave who spends the most amount of time in the passenger seat of the same Chevy Silverado that simultaneously endangered and saved his life.
But never mind yesterday, and never mind three years ago, because Karkat is not going to let anything stop him from reaching his goal today. He's living in the moment, right here, right now, and…
…who is he kidding?
He can't do this.
He can't do this, he reiterates as he jumps off his bike and ties it around the bike rack. He can't do this, it reverberates through his skull until he's pretty sure his first period teacher can see the words branded on his forehead. He can't do it, it's a mantra imbedded on his tongue by this point, and when the teacher calls on him, he's not quite sure if he replies with I can't do this or not.
It circles his mind and pries him away from schoolwork and into a realm of questions independent of answers.
He can't do this.
It's something he's known all along, as congenial as Terezi's perfection is, he's sure if he tries it'll only ruin everything he's worked so hard to achieve.
He can't ask Terezi to Homecoming, for several reasons Dave is at least half of. But even with Dave out of the picture (they're not officially dating, Sollux tells him, they're just hanging out a lot more than they used to) he can't gamble something as priceless as Terezi on the festivities of one night. He wants so much to have her, but more than that want is the distinct opposition toward losing her.
He can't do this.
And then he walks into his fourth period math class and spots her, in her desk. She's doodling dragons in the margins of her notebooks for a while until she looks up and sees him. Zealously, she waves him over with that shit-eating grin, pointing to the desk next to her. She does this every day, without fail, even though it's obvious where he's going to sit.
And the 'he can't do this' changes its tune.
This was never a matter of can or can't.
He has to do this.
"Hi, Karkat!"
"Hey, Terezi. You seem happy today."
"Oh? You noticed?"
"It's kind of hard not to. You're vibrating in your seat so violently I'm pretty sure some light fixtures in China just came undone."
"Hehehe!"
Do it, he tells himself, do it now.
But surprisingly it's his heart that holds him back. It's beating so loud, he misses what Terezi just said. His blood feels like it's evaporating through his skin, he's so nervous. Just do it, his mind encourages, but his heart strenuously overheats, like he's trying to focus, but the vital organ is an obnoxious little kid banging pots and pans together.
"…isn't that just the sweetest thing ever?"
"Um, what?"
"The rose." In her hand is a ruby on a thin stem he can't believe he missed.
The tag has a similar question to the one that's dying on the tip of his tongue.
"Do you know who it's from?"
The ball of frayed nerves in his stomach turns to iron and drops like a sack of bricks. His realm of questions has morphed into a realm of answers. Before there were too many questions, but now there are too many answers. He knows who it's from. It's from Dave. It was really a sardonic question uttered only to mock himself.
"I don't know." She responds, as if he wanted to even know.
He groans and delves into the equation written on the board.
When class is through, the iron ball in his stomach, if at all possible, drops even further.
As other students filter out of the classroom and into the cafeteria, Dave stands still and stoic amidst the chaos, a follow up gift in his hand. It's a box of chocolates.
Damn, Terezi's going to fall all over that.
Maybe he wasn't meant to do this. He can't afford a gift, hell he can't even afford cafeteria food, and Dave's rolling in it. He probably takes showers of cash in between swim meets he hosts himself in a pool of Ben Franklins.
It's obvious what's going to happen.
He can hear her screech yes already.
He stares at the notebook in his hand and slowly shakes his head. He has no idea what he's going to do with it after he hears that elated yes. It'd be the first yes in his life to mean no. Maybe he'll throw the notebook away. Or maybe he'll take it to a publisher, some of the horrid things written in there are halfway decent.
Who is he kidding?
He'll keep them under his bed and that's where the collection of Terezi-centric poems will stay. Far enough from his sight to give him space but close enough to hurt him.
He's going to hear that yes any minute.
"Are you okay?"
"Wha — Terezi! I thought you…" he looked back out the door to Dave, who stood in the same place in the middle of the hallway even as the horde dwindled.
She looks out the door too.
"Oh, yeah. I kind of assumed it was from him." She sounds .009% disappointed. Now's his chance. Maybe it's not too late.
"That's actually kind of a relief. I thought it was from Eri —"
"Go with me instead?" he asks in a rush, his eyes closed as if that could stop reality and put words back into his mouth.
He swears Dave's smirk got a bit smugger, as if he could hear the pathetic plea from that far away. Karkat wants to die immediately. They're on the second floor. He could just jump out the window. There are some pills Mr. Scratch keeps in his drawer…how many of those would someone have to swallow for it to be lethal?
When he dares to unglue his eyes, Terezi is staring at him as if she's never quite seen him before. Maybe she hasn't, not like this, not in this light. What drawer did he keep the pills in, again? Top or bottom?
"We'll see." She states as if she's setting a court date rather than deciding between breaking his heart or letting it live, and strides out the door. He dumps his stuff onto the nearest desk and watched on in horror as she walks right up to Dave. They both turn to look at Karkat, and then Dave gives a small, ironic laugh that only Karkat's well-trained ears could've picked up on from such a distance. It was a miniscule heh.
He threw the hood over his face and yanked on the drawstrings so hard it nearly suffocates him (he wishes it would suffocate him completely) and with his hands digging holes in his pockets, darts out of the classroom.
He waits until he's out of sight to start running, and stops around the elementary school. There are no kids outside because it's the wrong time of day and not even the most optimistic child would want to play outside on a day so overcast and foreboding as today. But Karkat's not an optimistic child, so he has no problem. He sits on one of the swings and grips the metal chains so hard they leave angry red indentions on his palms.
Heh.
In one little rush of adrenaline, he felt that he could do it.
What a joke.
Heh.
A little speck of water lands on his jacket. Drizzle starts to spread evenly among the playground and as rain begins to fall, so do tears.
"Karkat, finally."
His head bolts up straight and he swipes at his eyes vigorously.
"Why the ever-loving fuck aren't you with Dave? Doesn't he normally take you out to lunch?"
"Eh," she shrugs, sitting on the swing adjacent to his, "there's this angry little brat who probably needs me a bit more right now."
"Hmm?"
His heart nearly breaks its ribcage in a jubilant leap of hope.
"Mhmm," She fishes around in her satchel and produces a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, "Eat up," she cackles as she throws the sandwich at him.
"The hell was that for?"
She grabs his arm and pushes the sleeve of his sweatshirt upwards.
"Look at these stick-arms, my God. Do I even need to say what the sandwich is for?"
He gently removes the saran wrap and lifts the sandwich to his mouth.
But he pauses.
His question still doesn't have an answer.
He has to know for certain before he does something as crazy as getting his hopes up. Maybe this sandwich was to butter him up for the news. She's going to let him down gently, because that's the way she is, so kind and thoughtful, so rational and calculating, choosing the best way to do it and she's so perfect and beautiful, and, God, he doesn't deserve her, why did he even think this was a good idea?
"Um," just ask, he yells at himself, just ask, rip it off fast, like a band-aid, don't make this harder than it needs to be,"…is this cherry jelly?"
Her mouth curves almost like a question mark.
"Of course it is!" she exclaims, slightly confused, "Only the best jelly graces my sandwiches."
"No, that's not what I — are you going with me or Dave?"
She takes in a big, hearty sigh.
The drizzle has slowly died out, but a couple, leftover drops land on them.
"You, dummy."
He expects to be filled with an unearthly joy, but suspicion overrides that unadulterated ecstasy. There has to be a catch. Good things don't just happen, not without some sort of a penalty.
But he wants it to be true. He wants it so badly, but there are string attached, he can feel it.
He's also thoroughly confused.
Why would she pick him over Dave?
There's a reasonable explanation somewhere, if he finds the right angle.
"Wha — why?" he sputters unintelligently, "You know I can't rent a limo or anything like Dave was planning to do. I'll probably pick your corsage out of my neighbor's yard, and we'll have to split the check if we're going somewhere fancy to eat first. Are you sure you want to go with someone like me?"
"Are you trying to change my mind?"
He misses the laughter in her tone and plows on, nervously.
"No, no, of course not, I'm really happy you're going, I just —"
"You just don't understand why I chose you."
He scratches the back of his neck.
"You know, in the end, I liked your invitation better."
"Terezi, you know that's a lie. I saw how happy you were about that rose, and the guy had fucking follow up chocolates, there's no way my pathetically unplanned invitation out shone his. There's something else. There's a catch."
"There is no catch! Is it really so hard to believe that I might actually like you more than Dave?!"
When she's given no response, she bolts up from the swing and crouches down directly in front of Karkat.
"Karkat, do you think I'm dumb?"
"Of course not —"
"Then don't you think I should be able to tell the difference between a one-month fling and a real relationship?"
"But I —"
"No, save it. I get that you're not rich like he is, and that's fine. Because I've liked you from the moment I hit you with my mom's car and up until today I had no idea you liked me back."
"But wh—"
"Because. I know you're a great guy. You're hard to read and for most people once I learn to read them, the mystery's gone and it turns out they're boring and practically every person I've ever met has turned out to be a disappointment, but you're different. You have a heart of gold, Karkat, you're unique and wonderful and I can't believe you haven't realized it yet!"
"Terezi…"
"I know you don't believe me," she says with resignation as she sits back down on the swing, "but I have no reason to lie to you. I'm not trying to manipulate you, but if it takes Vriska-level head games to convince you, then so be it." She kisses him on the cheek, and for the first time since who knows how long, Karkat smiles.
"So, Terezi —"
"Is that Karkat's stuff?"
"That? Yeah, I guess he must've left it. So what'll it be Pyrope, you —"
"This is that notebook he never lets me see!"
"And probably with good reason. Who knows what porn he has in there."
"Pyrope."
"Terezi."
"What did he write?"
"Hello? You there?"
At a tragically young age, the world was blinded
Unable to cope without hope, they became close-minded
And put the narrowest of minds on a vaulted pedestal
I was left to assume being an asshole was congenital
Until I was struck with cupid's bumper and had my outlook split asunder
I found the world's one and only wonder, and in this sea of love, went under
All her life, she went unnoticed by the blind world, slipping unassumingly through its cracks
Never credited with plaques, her celebration was lax, she fell in line with the whites and the blacks
She deserved so much more than the trite monotone she received, I would've never conceived
Without my own beating heart, I would've never believed, with someone else's words, I'd think I was being deceived
To think, I wasted all this time alone, being the me I despise
Without the hand or the company of Terezi, the girl I prize