She looks sad all of the time. Rum always noticed how everyone looked, how they acted. It was for his own good, to know when to leave people alone because they were cranky and when he could get a good deal. But Belle… she was always sad.

And most of the time when he looks at her, she looks sleepy, too. Like right now when their teacher is talking about trans-port-ta-tion, and Belle is giving another big yawn and is leaning against the little book shelf of the library center and blinking slowly. Each time she blinks it takes her longer to open her eyes again.

They're all sitting in their places on the carpet, criss-crossed legs and almost everyone is quiet and listening. Except for Mary Margaret, who is whispering to David again, and it only makes their teacher scold her, and then everything takes longer until they can be finished. Because when their teacher finishes, he will get to go to his special class with her.

Kindergartners don't usually have the special class, only the older kids do. But his teacher finally gave up trying to keep ahead of him, so Rum gets to go. And then everyone finally realized that Belle was finishing her papers as fast as he did, so she gets to come, too, now.

The first day, their special teacher gave her all sorts of puzzles to play, and she was able to finish almost all of them. And she reads probably better than Rum, even if he's better at math. He likes it because even if it made him feel special to be the only little kid in there with the first graders (and he's smarter than all of those kids, too), he doesn't like how little he feels with big kids around and at the table by himself. She's even little-er, and he likes to think when he's there he can sort of watch out for her, too.

Not that he likes girls. Or really anyone else, for that matter. Belle's never talked to him, much, but she doesn't talk to people very much at all. Mostly she just watches everyone, like he does.

Their teacher finally sends them off to their special class while everyone else is busy with their journals. Rum's not really sure what they could possibly write about every single day. Their special class with puzzles and games is much more fun, even if most other kids would think it was too boring (even if he knows they would only think that because it's hard). He likes things that are hard because it means he learned something new, knew something more, and because 'most everyone leaves him alone when he's doing hard things.

Belle is silent, as usual, beside him. Her little boots hardly make a sound on the scuffed hallway floor, and it suddenly occurs to him that she's always wearing dresses or skirts. She wears those cloth things on her legs, but she never wears jeans or trousers like the other kids sometimes do. He's not sure why, but he likes it. Maybe because she's different. Because she's not like everyone else.

Another yawn, but she plods on and they move on, passing doorways on their daily journey. Ahead of them, he can see the first graders already opening the door and going inside.

They have a substitute today, and Rum can't help but wrinkle up his nose at the idea. The last time they had a substitute in his normal class, 'most everyone was in trouble the next day. Their teacher didn't care that it was mostly 'cause Ruby was always out of her seat and because Regina started the fight between everyone on the playground (Regina was out of the way by the time everyone was else was arguing and the playground teacher found them).

He slows a little, and she slows with him, even though he knows she didn't really realize it. Belle is closer to the door, and she starts to tug on the handle, but he steps in and pulls it open for her. Their substitute is a different lady than when their class had one, and he's glad that she leaves them to do computer work today. His work is a bunch of number problems and then he played checkers against the computer. Only when it's time to go does he see that Belle spent her extra time coloring and everything on her page is dark, blacks and grays and angry, not scribbles but hard and thick lines.

She doesn't say anything, and she doesn't take the picture with her, so Rum doesn't ask. He trails behind her now, because he thinks maybe she doesn't want to be with any one right now. When the other girls were around, they always wanted to talk and talk and talk. Except Ashley who was always shy. He thinks he should say something or ask her something, but Rum's never been good at that. He doesn't know what to do, so he just follows her.

Their class has free time when they come back, so everyone is busy with blocks or pretend center, or drawing. David was dragged into pretend with Mary Margaret and Ashley. Since he's the only one who's sort of nice to Rum, Rum simply trails Belle to the library corner.

He picks out a book he's looked through before, one about magic tricks, and stretches out on the carpet squares and flips it open. It's a book for little kids, probably for kids his age, but he's already looked at better ones in the library and knows better tricks than these. But they're still fun to look at. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Belle pick out her own book and curl up into a nest of bean bag chair and pillows in the far corner.

The class sounds around them fade, and from his spot he can't see anything over the bookshelves except the far wall and ceiling. It's like their own little spot, away from everyone, and Rum sort of wishes it could always be like this. Like Dr. Rush's hallways on Destiny where he works as he wishes.

He gets lost in his thoughts and in the pictures for a while, and when he looks up again, Rum realizes that she's very still. Carefully closing the book, he gets to his knees and slowly moves closer.

She's smaller than even some of the preschoolers, curled on her side in the bean bag chair. But for the first time he can remember, she doesn't look so sad. The wrinkle in her forehead, the little furrow that appears when she's thinking (which is always), has smoothed out. And her mouth has relaxed into a thin line instead of the slight frown. One small hand has curls into the corner of a pillow, holding on like it's grounding her. She has it hugged close, and Rum wonders if she has a special stuffed animal she sleeps with at night.

Everyone is still busy with their own play, and he's glad that they're still leaving him alone. He sneaks over to the cubbies and almost reaches for her coat when he realizes that his is bigger. It's a little dirty at the back, where he fell coming off of the slide and tumbled in the dirt. But that part won't touch her.

Rum tucks it carefully around her, making sure it covers her feet and doesn't cover up her face. He hates it when he wakes up tangled in his blankets and his sheet comes up over his face.

"R-"

He whirls around to see their teacher, but she stops speaking as soon as she sees what he's doing. "She looks sleepy," he whispers, sitting back on his heels.

His teacher nods and steps a little closer, checking over Belle before giving his shoulder a little pat. "She does. Why don't we let her sleep while we read our class book."

Rum hesitates for a moment, feeling like he should stay. Someone should stay. She shouldn't wake up all alone in the library corner. "Can I read here?"

She's about to say no, and he's prepared to lose every stick that left over this. To crawl back over here no matter how many times she puts him in time out, his bottom lip jutting out stubbornly. Maybe she realizes he's made up his mind, or maybe she just remembers that he can read the book by himself later because she gives him an almost smile and nods. "Just this once."

It's all he needs, and he calmly picks out another book. Placing a pillow between his back and the bookcase, Rum settles in for the rest of class. He's happy here, and he's gotten what he wanted. And he'll be here when she wakes up.