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Monday, the twenty-sixth, isn't all it's cracked up to be, and the rest of the week isn't that special either, apart for how Brian's head isn't investigating a flushing toilet from within the swirl and his overall person isn't being stuffed into any lockers, not even his own, which may or may not be courtesy of Andrew keeping his wrestling buddies and whoever else in check.
Brian's not gonna overthink it.
He hasn't said hi to any of them, either, unless vaguely intense eye contact counts. Funnily enough, Claire was the one who got closest to approaching him, early Tuesday morning, but she looked so immediately horrified at herself that Brian almost pulled something ignoring her.
Overthinking it is what he's not going to do.
While that first week is a bust, they start out the second with subtle nods to each other Brian can't quite remember who first initiated, Bender being the exception by virtue of winking at all four of them shamelessly, though Brian notices he's predictably the most attentive towards Claire. However, spring break gets in the way of even these meagre offerings, and, once they get back, time seems to be playing by its own rules. Bender's in detention until the end of the year, Brian has college letters to field, Andrew's keen to keep his scholarship intact for next year, Claire is harried-looking nearly every period as she preps to retake her SATs and Allison sinks back into herself.
Brian's parents don't let off much, but he's secretly happy that they haven't pushed for anything other than MIT. They're half an hour outside of Chicago, and there are definitely options in the city as well, but he needs to get out, so he's thankful they're not making it worse than it could have been to achieve this goal.
No one at any of his choices seemingly gave a damn about his shop class F or his one detention or any of that crap. Everything else is more than enough to get him a full ride, too. It's easy, almost. Too bad it's never felt like it.
What isn't the best by a long shot is dealing with haunting the corridors of Shermer High School at the same time as people he thought were his friends. It's not fair in a way few things aren't, and the more he thinks about it the more he's starting to doubt they were anything but strangers—cool strangers he clicked with for one day, but strangers nonetheless.
He can't get any of them alone however much he tries, and boy howdy does he try, but everyone's suddenly gotten real skilled at hiding from Brian.
Except that Bender's still in detention every Saturday with nowhere to escape to. That's a fact. Another is that no teacher is shitty enough to assign detention anymore, not this late into term, so Brian can count on Bender being on his own between those shelves every weekend pretty much by default.
No, the main problem isn't getting him on his own when he arrives at the school in the morning or when he leaves for home in the afternoon. It's far more dire than that, and it comes down to how Brian has no conceivable explanation as to what he's supposedly doing on a Saturday not studying.
His folks sure as shit aren't letting off just yet, whatever his admittance letters might say.
It's not that he's bad at problem solving, it's just that there is no solution here.
That is, until his Great-Aunt Susan breaks her hip (Again!) and refuses to stay in the hospital or get a nurse or anything, and his folks have to drive two states over to handle the situation over one weekend in late April, and he can be sure he's not going to get stuck babysitting amidst midterms, that's for certain.
Brian doesn't have a car, but his bike is good enough to get him to the school at four on the dot, just in time to watch as Bender jumps the last couple of stairs to land right in front of Brian's front wheel.
"May I help you?"
He's just as unfazed as usual, which doesn't help.
"Uh," Brian says, very coherently and not at all as if he's suddenly forgotten how to speak the English language.
"Great." Bender rolls his eyes, not entirely meanly. "I think I liked you better when you knew words, however annoying those might have been."
He goes to brush past Brian, who steps in his way so suddenly he lets go of his bike in his panic, which in turn topples over by his side with, considering the absolute silence around them, a much louder noise than he expected.
"OK?" Bender says.
Brian isn't sure if it's an actual question. But he does find it encouraging that he hasn't gotten punched in the mouth yet. The bar is quite low in whatever passes for friendship here. Bender's simply eyeballing him for everything he's worth.
"I'm just. You know. Hanging out," he mutters from between his teeth.
Almost immediately his eyes widen, and he only realises he was searching for permission once Bender gives it.
"Yeah, all right."
Brian opens his mouth, says nothing. Closes it again. After, Bender looks crestfallen, as if he had a comeback at the ready he didn't get to use, but rallies instantly, and pulls his shoulders in something akin to a shrug. Brian's in shock when Bender seems to be leading the way away from the school and in a completely different direction than either of their houses.
He adds, "Whatever," but that's good enough for Brian.
They end up going to the park and sharing Brian's afternoon to-go snack. They have a dollar between them to get something to drink from the first vending machine they find on the way.
"How's detention?"
He asks it in lieu of finding anything else to say. He doesn't want to ask about Claire because he wants to hear the answer too badly, and Andrew and Allison aren't on Bender's radar in quite the same way.
"Molière's pretty good once you get over the pretentiousness."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Even better high, but Carl tends to drop in when I'm on my own these days, and I ain't one for sharing my stash."
Brian sidesteps everything else coming to the surface in the last minute to focus on this particular detail. "You shared with us," he points out a little lamely.
"Needs must," Bender shrugs. "He owes me eight bucks anyway. Poker," he clarifies, but Brian's not touching that.
"I guess. Anything else other than Molière?"
"Hold your horse there. Let's see how this one goes."
"Sure, sure."
More outlandish things have happened. None Brian can name off the top of his head, but there has to be something.
They spend an hour together, then it's back home to an answering machine message from his parents that's equally annoyed, angry and irritated. Brian can appreciate the complexity of the trouble he's going to be in for not being home, but when he answers their next call only five minutes after stepping inside the house he's surprised by the ease with which he lies about taking out the garbage and not hearing the phone from outside. Almost as much as he is by how instantaneously they believe him.
He doesn't call Bender because he doesn't have his number. Except he must be in the Yellow Pages. But Brian's good at self-preservation, so why bother.
Later, he's only a little shocked when Bender calls him first.
He makes a note to bring extra post-detention snacks next time.
