Chapter Text
“Tilt your head back, doofus.”
“Shut up.”
But Ryland did lean his head back against the chair outside the principal’s office, fingers clamped around his nose, which had a wad of tissue stuffed up the nostrils. The part-time nurse was off campus, so the front office lady had emptied half a box of Kleenex for him. She’d said it would quit bleeding eventually.
He’d told her that there was about five pints of blood in his body and he was sure he’d lost at least one of those by now so he was grateful for the Kleenex. After staring at him, she’d gone back to her desk real quick. Ryland talked too much when he was nervous. And maybe he got the number wrong. After this, he was going to check out some anatomy books from the library.
Ryland curled up in the chair, shifting so he could drag his feet into the seat. He winced at the blood on his shirt and shorts. No, he was sure he’d lost at least a pint already.
Beside him, Colt didn’t look phased at all. Well, he had a nasty black eye forming underneath the ice pack the secretary lady had gotten for him. And he was breathing kind of funny. Bart Dressler had punched him a lot, and Dressler wasn’t a tiny kid. Not like Tom, who Ryland had taken on. He felt kind of bad that Colt got stuck with Dressler even though Colt had knocked out one of the big kid’s adult teeth. Dressler’s mom had taken him straight to the dentist.
Colt was taking it all in stride, kicking his legs back and forth over the edge of the chair, looking around the hallway at all the pictures.
“That one’s new,” Colt said, pointing to a picture of the school’s soccer team holding up a second-place trophy. “Wasn’t here last time.”
Which had been three weeks ago, when they had stolen Pickles the Guinea Pig from Mrs. Turner’s second grade classroom. Ryland had told Mrs. Turner that she couldn’t have just one guinea pig, that they were herd animals and needed a companion. She hadn’t listened. Ryland gave her a month. Then he and Colt broke into her room between when afterschool clubs ended and Court picked them up and stole the guinea pig. They’d worn hoodies and done it all spy movie style and gone out the window in the end, which had been mostly Colt’s idea, so the next day Principal Cahill couldn’t discipline them even though she suspected them. She knew everything because that’s the way she was. But she didn’t have any evidence. Principal Cahill had called Court. Court already knew by then. He’d taken them and Claire out the night before to get another guinea pig from the pet store.
Now Pickles and Peanut were best friends.
“They never put up the picture from the Science Olympics,” Ryland mumbled, “And we got first.”
“Yeah. That’s ‘cause this school sucks,” Colt said with a firm nod, which made him mumble ‘ow’ afterward because he poked his own bruise. “Can’t wait to move.”
Ryland tucked into himself tighter, his forehead hitting his knees.
“I mean…dang.” He heard Colt turned toward him. “The next school will have an even better cooler science nerd team, Ry. Court’ll make sure.”
“I like this team.” The kids on this team had welcomed him in even though he and Colt had shown up in the middle of November, after the team had already been picked. The coach had wanted him on the team after seeing he was good at science. He’d actually kind of started to be friends with Irina, Dimitri, Annie, and François. Not best friends, but sort of friends!
Colt didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could say to make Ryland feel better about moving again, and there was nothing either of them that could change Court’s moving schedule. They moved at least every six months, sometimes sooner. It’d been like that for the last two years and it had to keep going that way if they wanted to stay together and away from trouble, or that’s what Court said.
Ryland’s older brother never talked about what he had done between the time he’d been in prison and when he’d shown up at Ryland’s foster care home, but whatever it was meant they had to stay under the radar and off the grid and that kind of thing. They got to keep their first names but they used various fake last names instead of Gentry. The current one was Calhoun. Ryland preferred Grace and Colt liked Seavers and Claire’s was legally something else besides Gentry, though Ryland didn’t know what it was. Court kept that a secret.
Court had more secrets than a cell had ribosomes.
Muffled yelling erupted from the principal’s office. Ryland lifted his head off his knees. Both he and Colt looked over at the door as yelling turned into shrieking.
“They’re the bullies, Mrs. Cahill, they’re always so mean to me, they never want to play games with me and my friends and they’re weirdos! They’re freaks! And Ryland bit me!”
“Did you really bite him? You’ll catch the stupid jerk disease,” Colt said, tossing a grin at Ryland.
“No way, that’s gross,” Ryland said. He made a face. “The only reason anybody plays with him really is because his mom pays them to in ice cream and overly expensive sneakers.”
“Yeah, he knows, that’s what you said to him before he jumped on you. Your mouth is your problem,” Colt said, dropping his head back against the chair. He took the ice pack off his face. Ryland sucked a breath in through his teeth. That was a really bad black eye. “And you always make it my problem, too.”
Ryland scowled. “Nobody asked you for help.”
“Only ‘cause your face was in the grass. But you were calling for me with twin telepathy.”
“Not a thing.”
“Totally is, I heard you.” Colt clasped his hands together and drawled in his wry humor way, something he and Court shared. “Please save me, Colt, I only got a white belt before I quit karate, help me, Obi-Wan Colt-obi, you’re my only hope.”
Colt did make a lot more movie references than Court.
Ryland stretched out a leg to kick the arm of Colt’s chair. “Darth Colton-us is more like it.”
“No, I’m basically Kanan Jarrus,” Colt said, “But you can be Cal Kestis.”
Ryland thought it over a minute before nodding. That was okay, he liked Cal, his droid was cool and his powers were really neat. “Court is the Mandalorian.”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Colt said, grabbing the chair arm, “And Claire is Grogu.”
“Wait, I don’t know if we can be Jedi when Court’s a Mandalorian, that won’t work, they don’t get along.”
“They do now. Anyways, it’s post-Empire, Mando and Luke got along. Kinda.”
“Luke took Mando’s kid.”
“He got him back.”
The door to the back office flew open as Tom’s mother Gail stormed in, her gigantic purse clattering around as she shook it at them. She always insisted everyone call her by her first name. Court said it was a manipulation tactic to make it seem like you were closer to her than you actually were so you trusted her. Ryland knew better.
“I knew it was you two,” she said with forced sympathy. She sounded like a Saturday morning cartoon villain as she kept talking. “You’ve always been jealous of my Tommy. I’ll make sure you get expelled this time, you little nightmares.”
“Oh no, not that,” Colt said flatly. His hand twitched like he wanted to do something rude that’d get them even more OSS time.
Gail was the PTO president, and she had it out for their family. She didn’t think Court volunteered at the school enough. She also thought he was too young to take care of his younger siblings, even though he was a full adult. Court always took her condescending slights and insults in stride. As long as she didn’t actually call CPS, he didn’t care. If she ever went that far, Ryland wasn’t sure what Court would do in retaliation, but he didn’t think Gail would like it.
At least they wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore after they moved.
“I’m certainly going to talk to Ms. Williams about this and how I’m not sure you’re not a good influence for the rest of the play’s cast,” Gail said to Colt, mentioning the drama club teacher. Her smile was so wide and fake it was scary in an uncanny valley way. “I think it’d be best if you were removed from the club entirely.”
Colt went silent, but frustration bent his face and shoulders. He glared at her.
“And you.” Gail tapped her fingertips against her cheek before pointing at Ryland. “We might have to press charges. I’ll be taking Tom to the hospital after this and they’ll have to assess him before we go to the police.”
“Good, maybe they can get fix his personality,” Colt said.
Ryland smiled even though he was panicking. If the crazy woman went to the police, they’d have to leave even earlier. “I think that’s incurable. We’re very sorry, Mrs. Meyer, but your son’s got a terminal case of being a turd.”
Gail put her hands on her hips. A deep sigh of exaggerated pity puffed out of her. “I don’t hold this against you.” She so did, she was considering pressing charges. Ryland couldn’t go to jail. He wasn’t brave enough to get prison tattoos like Court, he fainted when he had to get shots. “You know, if you had a more positive parental figure in your life, I bet you’d have better ways of handling your feelings than taking it out on others. It’s truly sad. It should be remedied before you wind up criminals.”
Ryland bristled. Colt’s glare hardened.
“Your brother is clearly in over his head, what with twin juvenile delinquent fourth graders and a preschooler to deal with. He should be in college, enjoying himself, not raising three children.”
Well, there was one more, but Dee rarely came around and he wasn’t a kid. But Court considered him his responsibility, too.
“Court’s 24, lady,” Colt grumbled, “He’d already be graduated unless he was getting a master’s degree, which he’s got.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, he’s got a Master’s in Badass-ery.”
Ryland lifted a forefinger to make a point. “And a Minor in Dealing with PTO Hags.”
Gail tutted. “Obviously he’s teaching you colorful language.”
“Well, we’re almost in fifth grade,” Ryland added, “We taught ourselves those. We read.”
“Which Tom should learn how to do,” Colt said.
Gail drew in a deep breath, her face going red. Before she could verbally explode, the principal opened his door, releasing Tom, who was bawling.
“Mom, they broke my arm and hit me and pulled my hair and tried to kill me!” Tom wailed before running over to his mom and wrapping himself octopus-style against her side.
That wasn’t true. Except the hair pulling. Ryland had yanked on Tom’s bleached highlights while they were beating the mess out of each other. Tom had kicked him in the nose for it.
“Poor baby,” Gail said even as she awkwardly patted Tom’s head. “I’m sure Principal Cahill is going to deliver a swift and proper punishment.”
Mrs. Cahill stood in the doorway to her office, intimidating and tired.
“I’d like to speak with Colt and Ryland before making a decision about punishments for all involved,” Mrs. Cahill said evenly. She kept talking even as Gail tried to interrupt. “There seems to be a few different versions of the events.”
Looked like Dan and Annie might’ve spoken up for them. They had been nearby on the playground when the fight happened. They’d heard what Tom had been saying to Colt, how Colt was a loser and how he never tried hard enough in theater club and how everyone would be better off if he quit. Which was why Ryland had snapped at him. Plus they’d seen that Tom attacked Ryland.
“You’ll be talking to them separately, of course.” Gail gave her crocodile smile. There was lipstick on her teeth.
Aw come on, no, that meant one of them would be stuck here with Tom and her if she didn’t decide to leave.
Mrs. Cahill shook her head. “If they were going to come up with a story, I’m sure they would have done I while sitting here. And I don’t doubt my sense for lies. Do you, Mrs. Meyer?”
“Oh of course not,” Gail said, “I’d never—”
“Then I’ll call you with my decision,” Mrs. Cahill said, “Since I know you intend to take Tom to be seen and the closest urgent care closes soon.”
Gail must’ve been smart enough to realized Mrs. Cahill was getting rid of her because she gathered up Tom by the wrist (“I said it’s broken!!”) and marched him out the door. When she was gone, Mrs. Cahill crossed her arms.
“You two. Office. Now.”
Ryland got up and scurried after her while Colt groaned and got out of his chair. She held the door open for them. There was only one chair in front of her desk. So they both stood as she sat down and folded her hands on the desk.
“Ryland didn’t do anything but talk and Tom hit him for it,” Colt said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But I did some fighting. I knocked out Dressy’s tooth. I’ll pay the tooth fairy bill or whatever.”
“I did too, I fought back,” Ryland said, “But Tom said really mean things to Colt and Colt only got in the fight because I was in it.”
“Tom’s just dumb. He has to say dumb things, that’s all he's got,” Colt said. "At least the mean thing Ryland said was smart."
“But Tom’s like if a viper was a moron,” Ryland said.
“I think someone should start from the beginning and tell me the entire story honestly,” Mrs. Cahill said, “Or I’ll ask for Courtland to bring back a certain kidnapped guinea pig.”
Colt and Ryland shared a look. And then everything spilled out of Ryland. He told her about everything Tom said to Colt and then what he’d said to Tom, exactly how he said it, and then how everything got crazy. Tom had pounced on him. Ryland got a few good hits in, but Tom was bigger and stronger. So Colt had gotten involved and then Dressler and some other kids. It’d only ended when a couple teachers broke it up.
“So don’t punish Colt,” Ryland said.
“No, it’s Ry who got beat up the most, so he’s been punished enough. I can take another OSS.”
Mrs. Cahill laughed once. “Everyone is getting suspended. I have to go by the handbook. But in your cases, I’m shortening the days. Colt, you’ll get two days. Ryland, you’ll have three.”
Colt scowled. “No way. Why’s he get more?”
“Because he likes school more than you do, so it’s more of a punishment for him,” Mrs. Cahill said, “Also I know it was his idea to steal Pickles.”
“Guinea pigs can’t be alone,” muttered Ryland.
“I’m aware, and I was going to handle that, but you beat me to it,” Mrs. Cahill said. “If it’s any consolation, Tom will be getting a full week.”
“That’s only one more day than Ry.”
“He’ll also be in ISS for an additional week,” Mrs. Cahill continued, narrowing her eyes at Colt. “Is that satisfactory, Mr. Colton Calhoun?”
“I dunno, you got anything worse?” Colt asked.
Mrs. Cahill’s mouth wavered like she was trying to not smile. Instead she lifted her head, looking at the door. “Come in, Court.”
“Dude, how’d she know?” Colt asked, eyes widening.
“She knows everything, she’s the actual telepathic one here,” Ryland whispered back.
The door opened, and Court came in, silent as a shadow. He glanced over Colt and Ryland, taking in the bruises and bloody nose, the grass stains and Ryland’s tear-streaked face. Sue him for crying some, his whole face hurt. Stopped by Ryland, Court tapped his own nose. “Broken?”
Ryland leaned against Court’s side. He shook his head. It might not be broken, but he was going to be bruised real good. Tears welled up again now that Court was here.
“Okay.” Court quickly straightened Ryland's glasses before he reached over and put his hand on Colt’s chin. He tilted Colt’s head up so he could get a better look at the black eye.
“You should see the other guys,” Colt said proudly.
Court half-smiled and let go. He nodded his head toward Mrs. Cahill. “Principal. It’s been…three weeks.”
“I was hoping for longer this time.” Mrs. Cahill waved her hand at the twins. “Out. Hallway.”
This time both of them were quick. They zipped out of the room, past Court. Colt darted into the staff bathroom. Ryland started crying for the second time. He didn’t want to get kicked out of school for four days, and he didn’t want to move, and he didn’t want Gail to call the cops or CPS.
When Colt came back out, he shoved a handful of paper towels at Ryland. “It’s gonna be okay, Ry. You’re not going to jail.” He fluffed Ryland’s hair. “And if you did, me, Court, Dee, and Claire would break you out before you had to get a tattoo.”
Maybe there was something to the twin telepathy thing.