Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“So, Mr. Uppercrust, I can see here in the form you filled out that you scheduled this meeting to just get a feel for therapy. See if this is something that you need or helps you feel better throughout the week. I’m glad that you felt comfortable enough to reach out to us, and since this is your first visit and you were fairly vague in what you wanted to discuss and work on in these meetings, if there’s anything that I feel is not particularly my strong suit in guidance, I will recommend you to one of my colleagues instead-“ His therapist was abruptly cut off by the patient in question.

“Are you admitting to me right now that you are unqualified to help me, Mrs. Coleman? Because if that’s the case then this is incredibly unprofessional, and you and your little independent practice aren’t going to go very far.” Bradley said testily with his arms crossed and his leg bouncing a mile a minute. He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes as he tried to really drive home his point. As if he was trying to intimidate her. However, Mrs. Coleman was unphased. In fact, she leveled him with a steely look and let her notepad lay primly in her lap as she took out her pen from behind her ear.

“Not at all, Mr. Uppercrust. If you had let me finish my explanation, or asked me nicely about any questions you had, I would have let you know what specifically my qualifications are.” She leveled Bradley’s glare with an unimpressed look, and Bradley’s posturing wavered quite easily. He looked down at his knees abashedly and grit his teeth. His posture closing off. Mrs. Coleman took note and eased up a bit as she sighed and continued, “Most therapists have certain areas we specialize in whether it’s individually or with multiple people. However, most therapists are still knowledgeable enough on a general number of things that almost all clients will go to a therapist for, meanwhile specializing in a select few issues that individuals can have an extreme issue with, or certain disorders or more outlier issues. For example, most therapists know how to handle clients with anxiety and depression, but if your anxiety and depression stemmed from a disorder, specific traumatic situation, or any other number of reasons, then you would probably seek a therapist that deals with patients who have similar issues on a regular basis. It’s just like any other medical doctor, only we happen to work with the mental and behavioral status of our patients. Does that make sense?”

Bradley listened intently to her explanation and by the end he felt a hint of relief which let him nod. He didn’t feel like verbally responding to her after his little outburst earlier. During the little pause Mrs. Coleman took that time to write down a quick note onto her notepad, which made Bradley twitch, before continuing.

“Now, Mr. Uppercrust. This session will mostly be filled with me trying to get to know you, me taking notes so that we can figure out which specific issues you might be dealing with so we can get you suited towards a therapist that can really work with you since you don’t seem to know exactly what you need help with, and you telling me anything you want to get off your chest or think I should hear.” She smiled kindly, “Don’t overthink this session too much. At the end of the day, we are working towards helping you, and seeing if therapy is even something that you want to spend your time on. I firmly believe that even if you don’t have any extreme issues, therapy is still a very positive thing for a person’s mental health. These meetings are a safe space for individuals to feel better, so even if you want to drop by every six months or if something particularly horrible happened that week, then that is perfectly fine too.” Bradley felt his mouth go dry and for some reason he was very reassured by hearing that. Maybe therapy wasn’t just something for crazy people who couldn’t solve their problems by themselves and needed to be doped up on drugs. “Alright, so let’s start off with something easy. What exactly made you want to seek out therapy, Mr. Uppercrust?”

Immediately that easy feeling flew out of his system. Bradley tensed up and averted his eyes, glaring at the ground as his knee began bouncing again. Mrs. Coleman watched, making sure to keep her face expressionless since Bradley seemed to be the type of individual who was overly observant and accusatory. She didn’t want to give him any reason to hold back his subconscious mannerisms lest he be someone who was already tight lipped and closed off.

“Well, um… I guess I’m here because this is kind of a last resort for me.” He bit out and anxiously began picking at his nails. He heaved out a defeated sigh before continuing, “Honestly, I have always thought therapy was for crazy people who probably needed to see the looney bin and therapists as over glorified counselors who couldn’t handle the medical field to become real doctors, so it took me a lot of nerve to even find your practice and especially to even book an appointment.” He huffed and then realized how direct that was, so he cringed a bit before hastily adding, “Uh, no offense.”

Mrs. Coleman kept her unphased appearance and took note before gesturing with her hand for him to continue, “None taken. I’m well aware of the stigma therapy has had surrounding it. I’m just glad you came around your prejudice to give it a chance.” Bradley bristled at being called prejudiced but decided to just let that one go, since his therapist didn’t seem to get offended by his own harsh words.

Bradley continued, “Well the reason I’m here is because my whole entire life has gone to shit.” His tone was blatant and flat but didn’t add much more. Instead deciding to lean back against the comfy but stiff leather armchair.

“And why is that?”

Bradley pursed his lips and then began to explain the entire semester he had been through. From meeting this talented freshman, getting rejected by said freshman, then their rivalry and his relationship with his fraternity. The relationship between Goofy and his son, and slightly slipping up by comparing it to his own relationship with his father before he realized and then just kind of rambled past that. He went on about his friendship with Tank, then his panic at just how good Max and his loser friends were, and then his growing feeling of needing to cheat, just as a precaution.

“I mean trust me, I’m an amazing skater! I’m obviously one of the best,” Bradley faltered a little, averting his gaze after that comment before he pushed on, “I just needed to make sure that I won. You know? That’s why I cheated!”

Mrs. Coleman, who had been taking a healthy amount of notes, looked up at that and hummed. “But if you know that you’re such an amazing skater, then why cheat? I feel like that should have been enough to instill confidence in you and your teammates, right?”

Bradley faltered at that and squirmed in his seat. “Well- Well yes! I guess so, but I must be the best. I can’t be anything less than that. There’s nothing wrong with making sure of that.”

“And why must you be the best?” Mrs. Coleman asked calmly.

Regardless, Bradley answered frustratedly, as if he had been asked the dumbest question in the world. “Because! I have to be the best. I can’t settle for less. There’s no place in life if you are a loser or if you are second best, let alone if you are anything worse than that.”

Mrs. Coleman took that in and made another note before deciding to address that later. “Alright… Well, there’s been a lot of focus on how good you are and how good you need to be, but what about your teammates? You did mention this was a team competition.”

Bradley blinked and just stared at her blankly, “What about them?”

Mrs. Coleman blinked back before clearing her throat. “How about we start with whether you are concerned about how good your teammates are?”

Bradley rolled his eyes and sighed as if he were asked another incredibly stupid question. “Of course, I would be concerned whether my teammates are good or not, but I have also been competing with the best ones in my fraternity for this competition for the past few years, so I already know that they’re the best besides, obviously, myself. I also made sure that we were always practicing as much as we could, so really the only thing that concerned me were the new teams that showed any remote skill and talent that would threaten my spot as number one.” Mrs. Coleman was already getting a pretty good idea of how self-centered Bradley was but had yet to call it out. Until now that is.

“You mean your team’s spot as number one?” She raised an eyebrow and pointed her pen at Bradley. He paused and stared blankly before nodding.

“Yes, uh… my team’s spot as number one. Why do you keep focusing on my teammates, shouldn’t I be your focus right now?” He accused. “And don’t point your pen at me.”

Mrs. Coleman pulled her pen back and flipped the page in her notebook before jotting down some notes. “My apologies, Mr. Uppercrust.” She figured Bradley would appreciate a more formal approach, even with apologies. Bradley also definitely locked in on the fact that she had turned the page in her notes that were about him. Had she really had enough material on him to have a whole page filled? They were barely even thirty minutes in! “And yes, you are my focus as my client right now, but I’m going to be frank with you, Mr. Uppercrust since I’m sure that’s what you need and what you appreciate. You seem to only be focusing on yourself despite these X-Games being a cooperative team competition. You’ve mentioned how you need to be the best, how you need to win, and that it is your spot to be number one, but as a team event it is also a team effort, and you should be focused on more people than just yourself or those out of your control.” She said pointedly before she moved on before Bradley could even deign to give that speech a response. “Which leads me to my next question, how do you handle things that are out of your control Mr. Uppercrust?”

Bradley’s eye twitched and he took a deep breath before putting on a forced smile with gritted teeth. “How is this question relevant?”

“Please, just humor me for a second.”

Bradley bit his cheek before answering tightly, “I don’t know.”

“Well then let me give you a scenario.” Mrs. Coleman set her notebook and pen down on her lap as she leaned back and began to talk with her hands. “I’ll give you a simple scenario, something small to start off with. It’s just a regular day of the week, and you’re trying to walk home from one of your classes. Then suddenly it starts to rain, and eventually it pours down on you, drenching all your clothes and your bag. How do you feel?” She looks at Bradley with an encouraging nod of her head.

Bradley, ever the difficult one, answers easily with, “That would never happen. I check the weather every morning while I make my breakfast, which is before I eat, so I know how to dress for the day, and I’m prepared.”

Mrs. Coleman nods with a hum. “Alright, well let’s say you forgot, this is a very hypothetical scenario, but tell me how you think you would feel, please.”

Bradley sighs as if this is some extraneous question. “Fine. I guess I would be very upset. Especially since my bag and clothes are drenched. I hate being wet too, so I would be pissed if it started raining out of nowhere.”

“Would you be upset that you forgot to check the weather that morning?”

“I guess so?? I don’t know.”

Mrs. Coleman grabs her stuff and writes something down. “Hm, alright. Let’s try another scenario. You go and grab something to drink from wherever you go in between classes, and someone accidentally trips and spills their smoothie all over you. How do you feel?”

Despite it being hypothetical, and not actually happening, Bradley can feel his ears get hot and his fists start to clench. He’s irritated just at the thought of it. “I’d be pissed! Can they not walk or tie their shoes like a normal functioning member of society? And they just have to spill their probably poorly made smoothie all over my designer sweater which, if they’re any regular old college student, they probably can’t even afford the dry cleaning for my sweater, let alone a new smoothie, which is definitely going to soak into the material! And don’t even get me started on the fact I just needed to stop for a drink really quickly because I have a class after this and now, I’ll have to find somewhere to change or clean my sweater, or just go without!” Bradley ranted before he paused to take a breath, which was the moment Mrs. Coleman decided to move the topic along.

“Let’s try one last scenario before you keep telling me about what else has brought you here today, okay?” At Bradley’s nod she explained another story, “This one might be a little more serious, okay? So, feel free to just say you’re uncomfortable with this scenario or that you don’t want to answer it. I’m just trying to get an idea for something with these questions. In this hypothetical scenario, say that you have a very important project that you have been working on for the entire semester. This project is very important for your graduation and future career prospects, and it’s also a group project. Your professors and advisors are very much harping on how important this is and that you need to complete it and it must be perfect.” Mrs. Coleman notices how Bradley starts tensing up, taking in the information and how serious it seems to be. “However, halfway through the semester, one of your group members slowly starts to become distant until they completely stop communicating, and even start neglecting a lot of their classes for whatever reason. You barely even see this student anymore.” Bradley grits his teeth and goes to speak, but Mrs. Coleman is quick to keep speaking, “Then as you decide to take on their crucial part of the project, just in case they end up not completing it, you start to get headaches and fatigue from the added stress and all-nighters you’ve been pulling trying to compensate for their workload. Eventually, this starts taking a toll on your concentration and how efficiently you do things.” Bradley’s knee starts bouncing again and his face is starting to flush, turning this bright shade of red that starts at the tips of his ears and crawling up his neck. “Then a month before the project is due, you get into a small car accident. Nothing too big, but still the situation is stressful enough to affect you for the rest of the month.” She watched as Bradley’s face started to turn a weird shade of purple, which was not that normal of a reaction, and his eye started to twitch. “And lastly, two weeks before the project needs to be turned in, you go to work on the finishing touches to the project, and the computer you have been using crashes. You end up losing a significant amount of data, and while you have kept up some back-ups for the project, they are not up to date and it will take several days for you to catch back up-“

That’s when Bradley lost it. Mrs. Coleman witnessed as he went off ranting about each and every inconvenience, raving about how stupid it all was. How dare the technology not work as it should. How dare someone hit his car and make him have to handle all the damage. “How DARE they not show up and disappear into the middle of fuck knows where?! Who the fuck do they think they are?! And why am I getting fucking headaches!! I have to be doing all the work, and I’m the one suffering?! Why does it even have to be a group project? If it’s that important for my graduation, then it should be just me doing it!! And why is everyone going to be on my case about it?! They should know that I, Bradley Uppercrust the III, will have the most perfect project and presentation that they have EVER seen! I don’t need them breathing down my fucking back to get it done perfectly because I always do everything perfect-“ He was out of his seat, pacing around the office, his arms gesticulating everywhere until Mrs. Coleman finally cut him off with a loud clearing of her voice.

“Mr. Uppercrust. Mr. Uppercrust! Bradley!!” She shouted, after being ignored for the second time, and luckily it did finally snap him out of his rage. She gave him a searching look before standing up and going to a little counter at the side of her office. There she began to make some tea in her electric kettle. “Please, sit back down. I didn’t mean to upset you so much but remember this was also a hypothetical situation. None of this happened or will happen.” As she waited for the water to heat up she got out a tiny mug with a cheesy little mug that said ‘GENTLE REMINDERS’ in neat print at the top and even cheesier affirmations scrawled around the sides. “Do you like tea Bradley?”

As he sat down, he gave a stiff nod and crossed his arms again, too tense and embarrassed from his outburst to say anything. Mrs. Coleman pushed on, “Any specific type you prefer? I have the classics like early grey, matcha, chamomile, peppermint, and chai. I also have some more adventurous flavors or fruity flavors if you prefer something more obscure.”

Bradley just shrugged and looked at a thread coming off one of the throw pillows that he was sitting against. Mrs. Coleman nodded and as she grabbed some chamomile, she turned the kettle off before it could whistle and began preparing the tea in the mug. “Don’t be embarrassed about your reaction Bradley. If I’m being honest, I’ve seen much worse responses to situations. It’s important that you start recognizing these reactions though, and that’s why I was pushing with these scenarios.” She carefully picked up the mug and set it down on a coaster on the table in front of him as she smiled kindly and got him some honey and sugar packets with a small teaspoon in case he wanted it (which he did). She sat back in her seat and wrote down on her notepad, and for a few minutes the two sat in silence as Bradley prepared the tea to his liking and she started to analyze her notes and jot more things down.

After a while she looked up at him. “Now Bradley, do you want to continue your story of why you’re here today, or would you like for me to discuss some of my notes?”

Bradley stared at her and began to think of the two options. On the one hand, he would like to keep ranting about his problems. He hadn’t even gotten to the big stuff yet, like the events during the X-Games and the aftermath of them. Of the fallout and how his life had gone to shambles. On the other hand, though, he was incredibly curious about what she had written- especially regarding what just happened with her little test. They only had about fifteen or twenty minutes of the session left, and he wanted to at least get some solid feedback from this session. See if anything that happened here today was worth even coming.

“Let’s discuss some of your notes.” He said with a little snip before sipping his tea and sighing. It was pretty good tea; he was a bit of a fan of chamomile. Mrs. Coleman nodded and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she read from the summarized set of notes she had finalized at the last page she used.

“Alright, Mr. Uppercrust. First, I would like to just say, I’m going to be very direct because I think that’s what would work best with you. I won’t really be sugar coating anything that I have written down about you.” She looked up at him with a firm gaze which he matched with a glare of his own.

“Good. I don’t want my time being wasted, and sugar-coating would just waste my time and keep you from giving me solid advice anyway.”

The therapist nodded and gave him an appreciative smile before getting to it. Satisfied with his answer. “I’m glad you appreciate my directness then. In my opinion, I think you may have some anger and control issues. Whether you continue these sessions, with me or with someone else, we’ll find out where they stem from, but from your responses, the things you focus on, and your perspective of things that you tend to strive for perfection and in doing so you have to make sure everything goes your way, or at least how you expect them to go. This might be caused by high expectations from a parental figure, or expectations you set for yourself, or maybe some other reason. Regardless, this perfectionism seems to be a part of the reason that makes you self-centered too. Now there’s nothing wrong with focusing on yourself and your goals, but from how you speak of your teammates, and people you refer to as friends, it doesn’t seem to me like you truly view them as such. Nor do they sound relevant to you unless you need them in some way.” She watched as Bradley’s eyes widened and something akin to realization, like the glass was shattered, appeared in his expression. As if he hadn’t completely acknowledged these behaviors before, and if he had, he might have just brushed them off and deemed it unproblematic, Mrs. Coleman would find out in any future sessions if they happened.

“Not only that, but these perfectionist tendencies have led you to have control issues it would seem. In all of the scenarios I gave you, and the issues you spoke to me about regarding the X-Games, you have a full confidence in your own abilities and the things you can oversee, but you place the blame on everything else that is out of your power, and you grow angry with the things you can’t control which seems to drive you to extreme measures to make you feel like you have any semblance of it, like cheating. Not only that, but you rationalize these impulsive reactions. Which leads to my last notes, Mr. Uppercrust. I think you may have an issue reigning in your temper. Now I haven’t had you for long enough to deem these as anger issues, or something else that may sound more serious like a disorder or such, it could even be that you’re having a hard time right now and you’re more emotional than you usually tend to be, so you reacted strongly to these false scenarios.”

Mrs. Coleman said rationally and gave Bradley a moment to take all these notes in, watching as he processed it, and he gripped the mug tightly with both hands despite her thinking it may still be hot. “Can you be honest with me and tell me if this reaction seemed out of the ordinary for you, or if you usually tend to react this way, or stronger?”

Bradley stayed quiet and took a big gulp of his tea and stared into the drink as if it had all the answers. He let them sit in silence before Mrs. Coleman decided to add, “Or you can just answer to yourself. Either is fine, but if you tell me and we schedule more sessions, having this information would be helpful to me so that I can help you.” Bradley nodded before sighing, his whole body going lax in defeat, and he slumped back in the leather armchair.

“I… I tend to have a pretty strong reaction, I guess. It wasn’t really out of the ordinary.” Bradley rubbed his thumb up and down against the mug and began reading some of the affirmations on it. You deserve to be heard. Your feelings are valid. It’s okay to grow at your own pace. Bradley blinked and felt his eyes begin to burn so he quickly looked away again.

Mrs. Coleman nodded in understanding and tapped her pen against the notepad. “Would you say that any of the notes I mentioned sound inaccurate to you? Again, you don’t have to answer out loud to me if you don’t want to.”

Bradley bit his lip and began to think about it. Really think about it. Thinking back on his past actions just this past month with the X-Games. With the entire semester. With everyone and everything. Honestly, she hit it on the nose, but Bradley didn’t feel like admitting that just yet. Nor did he feel like lying so blatantly, so he just stayed quiet.

“Well, we have about five minutes left.” Mrs. Coleman stood up from the other leather armchair and moved behind her desk to the giant computer on it. “Would you like to set up another appointment? It can be with me, or I can request for you to find someone else. Whichever is fine, you won’t hurt my feelings. At the end of the day, it’s whoever you feel is the most compatible with you to speak about your problems, and my colleagues and I are here to help with whatever we bring to the table.”

Bradley looked up and after a moment of silent debating he finally found the nerve to speak again. “I would like another appointment with you, Mrs. Coleman. You didn’t do horrible today, and you seem to be quite qualified.” Mrs. Coleman nodded and before Bradley knew it, he was set up for another appointment for the next week on Thursday during his long lunch period. Normally at that time, he would spend an hour skating at the skate park. Practicing and honing his skills, but he hadn’t skated since losing the X-Games, so he had spent that time rotting in bed and taking a nap. This time though, he was rather glad to have that empty time taken up by something that was more productive than an extra unnecessary hour of sleep that made him wake up with a headache and feeling worse than he did before it. Bradley made his way home going over the session in his head and thinking of the feedback he had gotten. Rolling it around in his brain until he went through the static motions, he had been doing day after day for the past weeks since the X-Games ended.

Chapter Text

By the time it was the next session, Bradley had honestly been counting down the minutes for it. He had been going stir-crazy as the semester had ended. His most favorite hobby, he had currently abandoned, letting the skateboard collect dust in a broken pile deep in his closet in his new apartment. He had been job searching for the past few weeks since he didn’t want to use his own account that his dad supplied money into to pay for his new apartment’s rent. Bradley refused to have any loose ends lead back to his father that he had been kicked out of the Gamma Mu Mu fraternity. His father was already disappointed and furious enough as it is with him losing the X-Games, and Bradley didn’t want him to know just how bad things were at the University now. He was just glad that his father was already too absent now in his life to be keeping tabs on everything anymore.

Besides the stir craziness, Bradley also just really craved some human interaction. He hadn’t realized just how lonely his life could become when he lived on his own during a break, and all his previous friends hated his guts. He had yet to start the new job he found, and that left his newly found therapist, Mrs. Coleman, as his last resort to human contact. Well not really his last resort, but it was the only one he felt willing enough to reach out to anytime soon.

As Bradley made his way into the private practice building and sat in the lobby, anxiously waiting to be called in for his appointment, he took in just how comfy the little place was. They had a medium sized aquarium in the center with a couch against one wall, a long, short coffee table right in front of it. In two corners of the room there were two mini lounge areas with comfy pastel cushioned armchairs, a small white side table wedged in between the armchairs. On each of the tables there were baskets of a random assortment of toys and thingamabobs. By the small couch was a minifridge on one side and a water dispenser on the other. There were nice niche art pieces against the walls. Some abstract while others just peaceful looking with watercolors depicting nature. From the entrance, on the left was the lobby, and on the right was the front desk where the stubby dorky looking reception girl sat, doing whatever her job was when she wasn’t talking to patients. Then there was the hallway which led to the offices for each therapist and somewhere in there was a break room.

Bradley waited patiently as the only person in the lobby, at least feeling calm that no one would see him here. Not that he felt like anyone would recognize him. It was winter break, and basically almost all students went home for the holidays, and even if they didn’t, Bradley chose a far enough place that surely no college student would have picked to come to. He was snapped out of his analysis by Mrs. Coleman saying goodbye to someone (probably another client) and then turning to Bradley with a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Uppercrust, why don’t you come and follow me to my office?” Bradley stared at the other person, who chatted with the receptionist, before swiftly standing and stalking after Mrs. Coleman who led him to the breakroom first. He didn’t deign her a response either. “Have you had lunch yet?” She asked, deciding to make some small talk.

“Yes, I had brunch before I came here.” He huffed and looked around the breakroom as Mrs. Coleman made herself some coffee.

“Oh, that’s nice. Would you like anything to drink? In case no one told you, there’s some waters in the mini fridge that’s in the lobby, but if you want some coffee or tea, you can also come down here and make some, or as Judy to.”

“Judy?”

Mrs. Coleman looked over at him, “Our receptionist.”

Bradley blinked and felt a little abashed, “Oh. Well, um, thank you. I’ll be sure to ask her if I need anything.” Mrs. Coleman nodded, and after acquiring her coffee, led Bradey to her office.

“So, has anything happened since I last saw you?” She hummed and blew on her coffee.

Bradley stiffened trying to think of anything remotely interesting that he could bring up. Usually, he had no problem boasting and raving on about how exciting and eventful his life was, but right now it was stagnant. A snail probably had a more exciting life than he does right now. “Um, no, not really. It’s winter break.”

Mrs. Coleman nodded in understanding as she opened the door for him, and he let himself sit down on the chair he had been in last session. “So would you like to continue with where you left off or talk about something else?”

“I think I’ll just continue where I left off, so that you can get the full story and understand more why I’ve been feeling well- like shit lately.” Bradley said flatly before delving back into the rest of his woeful and dramatically told tale of how Max Goof and his loser friends ruined his life through his favorite sport. He decided not to leave anything out and didn’t even try to make himself look good since this part of the story he basically was a grade-A asshole to everyone. There wasn’t one redeeming quality about him towards the end of the semester. Bradley mentally gave Mrs. Coleman probs that she managed to keep a calm and collected expression as she listened intently and took notes, as if she heard daily that her client attached a rocket to someone’s skateboard and nearly killed about three people in a giant fire, and then got launched into a blimp for his despicable actions. “So yeah, that was it basically. My father obviously found out that I lost and was publicly humiliated on television, so obviously he was not happy at all. Then Tank not only launched me into a blimp but got everyone to unanimously vote me out of the fraternity and kicked me out. A ton of rumors got around from me cheating, which to be fair is true, to me having built an army of skateboarding robots that could camouflage and secretly assisted me throughout every X-Games competition that I’ve been a part of.” Bradley groaned and slumped into his seat until he was practically falling off. “Which honestly would have been a better idea, probably would have worked too.” He joked dryly.

Mrs. Coleman nodded, “And how do those rumors make you feel?”

“Honestly, I could care less,” Bradley shrugged. “The only thing that bothers me is that my reputation has tanked, and I’ll definitely never be able to fix it. No matter what I say or do.”

“And how does being kicked out of Gamma Mu Mu make you feel? Especially by Tank?”

Bradley paused and went quiet for a moment. That one definitely hurt more yet he had refused to admit it, until now that is. “It sucks. He was probably my closest friend, I suppose… And I thought he would understand why I tried to win instead of going in there! But- but…” Bradley trailed off as his eyes got a sort of lost look in them.

“But he didn’t understand.” Mrs. Coleman finished for him. Bradley nodded quietly and went back to cross his arms; he didn’t remember uncrossing them to pick at his nails. “And when he helped Max win, how did you feel?” Her tone was soothing and low, as if she wasn’t trying to rile him up, but still wanted to get to the root of his feelings.

Regardless, Bradley still blew up, “Betrayed! Obviously!” He tsked. “He knew how important winning was for me, and he helped that- that freshman win instead!! It was a complete and utter betrayal! What kind of friend would-“ He stammered, his words catching up to him, “Would do… that…”

Mrs. Coleman pursed her lips before leaning forward, “I think you know what I’m about to point out, but I’m going to say it anyway so that you can hear it.” She leaned back but her gaze was still just as piercing. “Bradley, you betrayed Tank first. Leaving him like that for a first-place trophy. There’s an old saying, I’m sure you have heard it before, ‘Treat people how you want to be treated.’” She watched as Bradley’s eye twitched, and he petulantly looked away. “You betrayed Tank by leaving him for dead after an incident you caused, whether you meant for him to get caught up in the rocket fiasco or not. That’s what you did. Then you expected him to just accept that you value a trophy over his life. If he was truly your friend, then you would have helped him, not left him, but every time you’ve spoken of your relationship with Tank or any other of your Gamma Mu Mu brothers, you speak about them as if they’re minions. That isn’t okay, and healthy relationships are not like that. Do you understand?”

Bradley nodded, his ears and face going hot in embarrassment. He felt like a scolded child. Her tone wasn’t even condescending, but it felt like it anyway. The worst part was that nothing she said was wrong either. Bradley was a hypocrite and a shitty friend.

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad or anything, but if you do feel guilty that’s good.” Mrs. Coleman added gently.

Bradley looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. “How is me feeling guilty good? You’re supposed to be making me feel better.” He accused.

“Well, as you have made it clear, a lot of your actions weren’t the best. When you make choices that hurt people, the first step is to acknowledge that what you have done is wrong. Once you do that, then you can start working through the process of trying to make amends if you truly feel bad for what you did. Apologies mean nothing if they are for selfish means, and if you’re feeling guilty then that’s just saying you acknowledge what happened, you regret what you did, and that you will change so that it doesn’t happen again.” Mrs. Coleman explained and then inquired, “Do you want to make amends, Mr. Uppercrust?

It felt as if her question and her waiting gaze bored into his soul. Bradley squirmed in his seat uncomfortably as the answer swirled around in his brain, but also fought against his huge ego. Of course he wanted to fix things with Tank! Now that he was gone, he found himself missing the company of his friend, but he wouldn’t even know how to apologize to him. Not only that, but Bradley hated apologizing. Apologizing meant groveling, and an Uppercrust would never grovel. That would be admitting that he made mistakes. That he had regrets. That Bradley Uppercrust the III was, in fact, not perfect. Not the best. That he was below others enough that he had to come crawling back like some beggar and admit that his life was not perfect. That he depended on other people and wasn’t as independent and in charge as he seemed.

“Bradley?” Mrs. Coleman said softly. He snapped out of his little spiral to see her concerned inquiring eyes. “What are you thinking about right now?”

Bradley’s mouth went dry, and he went to picking at the thread on the throw pillow. “Nothing!” He snapped and then immediately backtracked. “Nothing. Just that I don’t want to talk about Tank right now.”

Mrs. Coleman nodded but didn’t seem very satisfied. “Alright, we can move on, but I just want to say that if you don’t start facing your actions and not only processing, but also accepting what you are feeling, then any help you seek will be useless. You cannot grow unless you stop being in denial, Mr. Uppercrust.” She let that sink in for a moment before she moved onto another question she had in mind.

“Now, how about you tell me about your relationship with Max Goof?”

Bradley tensed and twitched just at the mention of the guy. His closed off demeanor easily being replaced by one of annoyance. “Ugh, what about him?”

“Well, he seems to be a very key figure in your life falling apart, according to you.” Mrs. Coleman explained, “So tell me how you feel about him. Especially after the events at the X-Games.”

Bradley scoffed and immediately launched up, his hands gesturing as he was ready to start ranting. “How I feel about him? Please! You said it yourself; he ruined my life! Obviously, I hate his guts! I mean the audacity he has to just go around after this all carefree and show off to every person who even spares him a glance! As if he’s some hot shot, and not just some newbie wannabe who stole my fucking life! I mean after the whole games he had the nerve to seem like the bigger person by letting me off the hook for our little bet-“ He grumbled when Mrs. Coleman interjected.

“Well did you want to be his towel boy then?”

Bradley choked on his spit, taken aback. A flush crawling up the back of his neck. “Wha- What?! No! Of course not!” He stammered before pushing on frustratedly, “But he made himself seem like the bigger person by letting me off the hook! He knew it would make me look worse, and then started going to my frat’s parties with his loser friends! He starts hanging around my ex-friend and skating around at my old skate park, at my old scheduled practice time, with my old skating buddies!!” His chest heaved as his breathing became erratic and he hadn’t even realized he was standing with his hands gripping his hair until he took a second to breathe. His face went a bright red, vein in his neck popping as he shouted, “AND HE’S MAKING ME ACT LIKE A CRAZY PERSON!”

“Mr. Uppercrust!” Mrs. Coleman raised her voice. Bradley stiffened and immediately dropped his arms and stood there limply. Bradley honestly didn’t even know why Max drove him this crazy. How he managed to get under his skin so easily and make his blood boil and his heart race. Right from the moment he rejected him at the Bean Scene. “If you need to stand, then stand. If you need to pace, by all means, pace. If you need to shout and let off some steam, then that’s fine, you can, but please keep in mind your temper and that there are other sessions going on in the offices surrounding you, and the walls are not that thick. However, please refrain from trying to hurt yourself by pulling out your hair. Whether it was subconscious or not. This is a safe space, and you can express your emotions in a healthy way, but if you feel like you’re about to spiral, I need you to listen to me when I try to intervene.” Mrs. Coleman’s tone was dead serious and left no room for argument.

Bradley nodded numbly and sat back down, his head in his hands as he rubbed his face. “Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Coleman nodded and got up to make him some chamomile tea. “Wait, when did you try and intervene?” He looked up at her with narrowed eyes.

Mrs. Coleman returned his look. “Did you not hear me saying your name repeatedly as you stood up and began shouting?” Bradley blinked and shook his head. He couldn’t recall that. “Did you realize when your voice began to raise?” Bradley yet again, shook his head no. “How about when you pulled out the thread of my throw pillow and ripped the seam out?” Bradley gulped and looked at the throw pillow. It did indeed have a new rip to it.

“I- When did I do that?”

Mrs. Coleman pulled out another mug with a saying, only this one was not cheesy like the positive affirmations. It was a pale pink with black at the bottom of it that said in times new roman, Not Fragile Like a Flower, Fragile Like a Bomb. – XO, Frida. Bradley looked at her very unamused. “Really?”

Mrs. Coleman looked at Bradley confused before following his gaze to the mug, giving it a quick glance over before laughing just slightly before recomposing herself. “My bad, this mug must have snuck in from the ones from my home. I would swap it out, but right now it seems to be the only clean one I have.”

“What, you don’t clean your mugs? How unsanitary.” Bradley grumbled as the tea was set on the table in front of him with some honey and sugar packets.

Mrs. Coleman raised a brow before shrugging. “Some dirty mugs are left in the breakroom’s dishwasher, and others are borrowed by colleagues or given to clients. I would rather spend my work hours helping clients than washing dishes, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Uppercrust?”

Bradley supposed that was good enough of a reason and shrugged. “I suppose so.” He began fixing his tea to his liking. Mrs. Coleman nodded and then sat back down.

“Anyway, back to your question. You ripped out the seam right when you started raising your voice, Mr. Uppercrust.  When you claimed his show of mercy was a strategic move to make himself look better. Did you not notice how you were reacting while you were angry?” Mrs. Coleman questioned.

Bradley went to drink his tea to stall answering her question, but only succeeded in burning his tongue. “Ouch! Stupid tea!” He yelped and tears stung his eyes as he sat it back down.

“Careful, Mr. Uppercrust. Do you need some cold water to drink?”

“No, no. I’m fine.” He answered as his tongue began to numb and his tone turned pained. “But to answer your question, no. No, I didn’t notice, and to probably answer your next question, no again. I don’t tend to notice my actions when I start getting angry.” He grumbled and blew on his tea.

She wrote down another note before asking, “So would you say that you have an issue of reacting irrationally? Especially when you are angry?”

“I only ever react irrationally when I am angry,” Bradley sniped back.

Mrs. Coleman nodded, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions. I will need you to be completely honest. There are no wrong answers, so don’t overthink them.”

Bradley shrugged begrudgingly. “I guess that would be fine.” And then there Bradley was in a rapid fire back and forth Q&A.

“In a typical week, how often would you say you get angry? Your options are never, maybe once or twice, a few times, or very often.”

“Very often.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how intense would you rate your anger?”

“Like in general or specifically? Can I get a scenario?”

“Let’s say, in general. An average of it.”

“Fine, uhh…” Bradley settled on, “Probably like a six point five on average. If it’s a small issue, then it would probably be three or four. If it’s a bigger issue, then a ten.”

“What typically triggers your anger?”

“Incompetent people, laziness, something not going my way or how I planned, losing, traffic, not getting something right the first try, getting anything below an A, people who have manners, loud chewing, loud music, people not respecting me, dumb questions, and there’s a lot more. We’ll be here all day if I list everything, are you satisfied?” Bradley snarked.

Mrs. Coleman nodded and continued her questionnaire. “How do you usually express your anger?”

Bradley pursed his lips and shrugged. “I guess I shout, pace, and start destroying stuff around me? I don’t know, I never really take note of it.”

Mrs. Coleman jotted something down. “Are there specific thoughts or feelings that precede your anger?”

“Erm, not really. I just get really upset. I want to control everything I guess, and the thought of it not going the way I want just makes me think how if other people or things weren’t so stupid then I wouldn’t be in this mess right now? I don’t know, you keep asking vague questions!” Bradley groaned and Mrs. Coleman sighed. She noted that he has a habit of blaming everything else around him and being very accusatory.

“Are there times when you feel your anger is masking other emotions?” She asked tentatively.

Bradley stiffened, the question bringing up thoughts he hadn’t really paid attention to before. It felt like it hit a little too on the nose, and this time he was glad she didn’t give him any specific scenario or situation. “I… I mean, I suppose. Sometimes I use my anger to cover other emotions that I’m feeling or don’t want to think about at the moment.”

Mrs. Coleman held back a smile that threatened to reach her lips. There was some progress. “Can you recall early memories of feeling angry? How was anger expressed in your family growing up?”

Bradley began to think back to his childhood. Something he rather avoided doing since it never brought out any particularly nostalgic or pleasant feelings unless it was a holiday where he received gifts. Instead of answering the first question he moved onto the second one and realized that he would have rather disappeared than be faced with answering either question. “Whenever my father was angry, he shouted and told me how things could have gone better. That I could have been better or that his employees could have done a better job. Then he would just move on to fixing everything himself since he ‘Should have just done it himself in the first place.’” Bradley quoted with a sigh.

“And what about your mother? How did she express her anger?” Mrs. Coleman pressed. Finally, getting somewhere with Bradley and not wanting to lose the progress.

Bradley’s face turned sour as he looked away towards a painting on the wall. “She would shout and scream at my father when they were together. He would tell her to stop screaming and she would always yell back that it was the only time he listened to her. Then after their arguments she would start plotting and planning ways to get back at him, so that he could understand how she felt or something.”

Mrs. Coleman took note of that and made sure to star it. Finally, she was getting some insight into where Bradley had probably learned such behaviors from. “You said ‘when they were together?’ Are your parents divorced now?”

Bradley nodded, seemingly detached and unbothered. “Yes. They divorced when I was about eleven years old, and then three years later my father remarried to his current wife while my mother remarried four years later to her current husband.” He said the last bit about his mother bitterly. “My father raised me.”

Mrs. Coleman wrote down to ask about those details later but continued with her questions. “Have others commented on or been affected by your anger?”

“I guess, my stepmother has mentioned how I seem to take my anger out on people who don’t deserve it or provoke it when I can’t attack the source.” Bradley glared at nowhere, he was just remembering the memory of being told that. “And little miss mocha chino has had no problem saying something about it in her twisted stupidly overly poetic hippie way.” Bradley tried to think more, “And I suppose the X-Games was a big in your face about how my anger has affected people.”

“How does your anger impact your daily life and functioning?”

“It doesn’t.” Bradley said simply.

“If you do, how have you currently tried to manage your anger?”

“Um, I guess taking a deep breath? Venting to Tank- er, well I did vent to Tank…” Bradley thought hard and then concluded that he honestly did not try to manage his anger very much. “I guess that’s it.”

“And have those things worked in managing your anger?”

“Uh, not exactly? Or else I wouldn’t be here right now, and you probably wouldn’t be asking me these questions.” Bradley said condescendingly.

Mrs. Coleman leveled him with yet another unimpressed look before continuing, schooling her face once more. “What would you like to change about your anger and how you express it? How motivated are you to work on these changes?”

“I haven’t thought about managing it before. I never realized it was an issue.”

Mrs. Coleman hummed. “Alright, last question.”

“Finally!” Bradley huffed, “These have been going on forever!”

Mrs. Coleman ignored his comment before asking blatantly, “Have you tried any therapy or anger management techniques in the past? If so, how did it go?”

Bradley blinked and just stared at her blankly before his ears went hot. “Are you saying I have anger issues?!”

Mrs. Coleman raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t said anything about you having anger issues, Mr. Uppercrust. I simply asked a question that is part of the questionnaire. Can you answer it please?”

Bradley glared and managed to say through gritted teeth, “No. Never. I don’t have anger issues so I wouldn’t seek out anger management techniques.”

Mrs. Coleman nodded before writing one last thing down and then setting her journal aside and clasping her hands in her lap. “Alright Mr. Uppercrust, I am, again, going to be direct with you right now. I’ve noticed you’ve mentioned feeling very angry in several situations. It seems that managing anger is a challenge for you right now. Anger is a natural emotion, but when it becomes difficult to control, it can affect various aspects of your life. The good news is there are effective ways to manage and reduce anger. We can work together on strategies to help you handle these feelings. How do you feel about what we’ve discussed? Do you have any questions? I appreciate your openness in discussing this. It shows great courage. Remember, I am here to support you through this process, step by step.”

Bradley listened and somewhere past his ego, pride, and defensiveness, he felt touched by the last words. The approach and reassurance that him being an overly angry person wasn’t the end all be all his personality and the final nail in the coffin that he was a shitty person. It was hard to get angry when she was being so understanding and making sure that he felt comfortable still. However, he still hated that he even had anger management issues. It meant he was far from perfect. That he had problems regulating his emotions. That he had no control over a part of himself. It made him want to try and hold onto the little control he had even tighter. “Bradley?” She said gently, snapping him out of yet another spiral. “I need you to take a deep breath for me, please.” Her tone wasn’t babying him. It wasn’t small and patronizing or like she was trying to belittle him. Instead, it was her usual calm, rational, and firm tone. So, he took a deep breath, and held it for a few seconds, before letting it out. “Can you count to ten and keep breathing slowly for me?” Bradley nodded and did just that, letting his eyes shut and gripping onto his khaki pants. By the time he got to ten, he felt calm again, and when he opened his eyes, he was met with a look of pride.

“Thank you for listening to me, Bradley.” Mrs. Coleman smiled, and he didn’t feel like it was brought out with anything remotely negative. “I’m proud that you were able to stop yourself from spiraling. Do you feel better now?”

Bradley blinked and let out a shallow breath. “Yeah… I do, actually.”

“That’s good. See you’re already making some progress.” Mrs. Coleman grabbed her notepad and then stood, moving to her counter. “How about you finish off your tea while I write down some notes for you to take home and find something really quick.” She told him and Bradley just listened, letting her do whatever it is she needed to do. By the time he was done with her tea she was sitting back down with two papers in her hand. One was a ripped-out piece of paper from her notepad, and the other was a printed-out sheet with information on it.

“What’s that?” He leaned forward not-so-subtly trying to read it, but he didn’t have to as she set them on the table in between them and turned them so they faced him.

“These, Mr. Uppercrust, are two very important pieces of paper. Do not lose them please. I wrote down on this piece of notepad paper all the signs I have noticed when you are about to spiral. I need you to read over these and start recognizing them, so that way before they happen you can use these,” She gestured to the second paper, “Which are coping mechanisms to control your anger. I have organized them so you can find ones that typically help immediately, and others for more specific situations, or things you can do regularly that should bring down your anger levels.” Bradley gingerly picked up the papers and began scanning them. “With the notes I took, this is your paper. Feel free to add anything else you notice, things that may happen internally like thoughts or feelings which lead to any of your spirals. I am not a mind reader nor am I you, so only you can pinpoint those things. With the coping mechanisms feel free to try them out when you’re angry, and if something seems to not work for you, then simply cross it out or ignore it and try something else. These papers are for you to do with as you please, but I recommend you treat them with care and keep them somewhere where you can find them easily. I can only help you so much when you are physically here, but I cannot go out there in the world to monitor you, or snap you out of any oncoming spirals, so these should work in my absence, and help you start managing your anger on your own.” She explained easily and finished, “Now of course you can always contact me in an emergency if you need to consult with me outside of the office. However, the point of you being here is so you can also learn to help yourself without me, so please try having an open mind with these papers. They’re to help you, and they won’t be of any help if you never use them. If you have any questions or comments just let me know whenever I see you. However, that will be all for today’s lesson.”

Bradley scrambled a bit, looking at the clock and seeing that it really was the end of the session. They had gone over by two minutes! Yet Bradley felt like he didn’t want to leave just yet, instead he wanted to keep talking about his anger management issues and workshop it with her. He honestly felt a little better and like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Oh. “Um, well thank you Mrs. Coleman,” He floundered for a second before he steeled himself. “I’m glad this session has been very productive. Can we meet again at the same time next Thursday?”

Mrs. Coleman blinked a little dumbly at the initiative and eagerness Bradley displayed for another session but quickly nodded and went to her computer. “You’re quite lucky that you’re really the only person who wants to be scheduled at this time, Mr. Uppercrust. It’s quite an unusual hour and day, but of course. Would you like me to set you as a regular for this time and hour? You can change it at any time by calling Judy, so there’s no pressure in setting it for then, but it will just make sure that when my schedule starts to get more busy that you shouldn’t have to fight for a time or space since you’ll already have first dibs.”

Bradley nodded a little too eagerly before catching himself, and coughing, turning away embarrassed. “Yes, I suppose that sounds fine. So, every Thursday at twelve? Or do you usually take a lunch break then?”

Mrs. Coleman shook her head and clicked on her mouse and keyboard. “No no, I usually have my break set for one p.m. I tend to get a late breakfast, so I’m not a fan of an early lunch. Twelve in the afternoon every Thursday sounds fine to me. Just make sure to call twenty-four hours in advance if you need to cancel or reschedule, or else you’ll have to pay a fee.” With that they settled on a few more details and small talk before Bradley took his leave. Clutching and staring at the papers he was given on his way out to his car. Maybe at first the knowledge had made him angry, but now that he had ways to fix it, he felt a lot better.

Chapter Text

“GOD DAMN IT!!” A chair toppled over as Bradley knocked it over in a rage of fury. “STUPID PIECE OF SHI-“ He continued to rage as he stomped around his apartment and threw his barista apron onto the floor. It had been a week since his last session, and Bradley had started his new job in the meantime as a barista at a local coffee shop near his apartment complex. In short: it was going horribly.

Bradley had no idea why he thought he could work at a coffee shop, but he had underestimated how hard everything was. He was through basically a week of training, as a full-time employee since he had really nothing to do with his days during the break and he wanted to save up enough side cash for rent when he had to turn to part-time when the semester started back up. Training was hell though. His manager was neglectful and rarely ever there, which led the guy training him to be an absolute jerk about the entire training process. Bradley had a sneaky speculation the guy was making him do some of his extra work too and giving him the worst side jobs ever whenever he wasn’t learning to man the cash register, take orders, make orders, and stock the pastry stand. Like cleaning nasty bathrooms, and he means nasty. The particularly bad days. On top of that, morning customers were the absolute worst! Their attitude was unmatched, and they hated interacting with people more than they had too, but also mumbled their orders under their breath which forced Bradley to ask them to repeat themselves. Therefore, every time he asked that, they would blow up at him for being deaf or stupid or whatever other mean insult they could come up with at seven in the morning on a weekday.

And don’t even get Bradley started on the damn coffee machine. This was the third time it had sprayed him in the past week, and this time it soaked into his sweater sleeve. What use was an apron even for if it still soaked into his clothes?! Bradley yanked his sweater off before burying his face into it and screamed. Although it was muffled, he still got a bang on his wall and a shout of, “KEEP IT DOWN ASSHOLE!!” from his neighbor.

Bradley heaved a sigh and threw the sweater onto the toppled chair before going to his bathroom and splashing his face with water. Finally, those stupid coping mechanisms were hardly working. Sure, at first, they did help, but after halfway through his day, they were just about useless, and by the time he got home they were nonexistent in his angry mind. “She said they were supposed to help. Why aren’t they helping? Why am I still so fucking angry?!” He muttered angrily to himself as he washed his hands and then stared at his reflection. Luckily, in thirty minutes he could just drive over, go to the session, and complain. Which is exactly what he was going to do after he changed his sweater.

“I suppose this is my fault for forgetting to mention, but just because these coping mechanisms are helpful, and these notes are insightful, it doesn’t mean that your anger management issues are just going to go away instantly.” Mrs. Coleman explained with a sigh, “It’s unrealistic to expect yourself to make changes to habits that you have built up your entire life. Eventually, one day, you will probably stop having to work so much to keep yourself calm and respond rationally, but as of right now, which how often you have said you get angry and how intensely you have said you react, just managing to calm yourself down in the early mornings is good progress!”

Bradley tsked and rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not. You know what’s good progress? Not getting angry.”

Mrs. Coleman shook her head and set on the table a squishy stress ball that she had managed to find for Bradley, hoping that maybe this would help him focus his anger onto the object instead of himself, or objects around him.

“That’s unrealistic. Your expectations to instantly and magically get better will only work to make you angrier and more frustrated, and it will delay and backlog your progress, and that’s not helpful.” Bradley deflated, momentarily thinking and agreeing with what she said, before he built his anger back up and glared at the offending object on the table.

“What’s that?” He demanded, as if he were a petulant child.

Mrs. Coleman remained calm and gestured for him to grab the item, “It’s a stress ball. Feel free to keep it, I got it for you. However, if you don’t like how it feels or just feel like it doesn’t affect you in any way, feel free to return it or let it collect dust in your apartment. Whatever you choose to do with it, it’s yours now.” She smiled.

Bradley’s angry resolve crumbled as he looked between his therapist and the stress ball. It was a nice calm light blue. He reached out and poked it, and the texture was smooth and soft, and kind of squishy. He then poked it around a bit before snatching it up in one hand and squeezing the life out of it repeatedly. He leaned back and let out a nice sigh. “Hm, I quite like this stress ball. Where did you get it?”

“I found it at a bookstore. They’re quite common, so if you want to find more, I’m sure you can at any pharmacy or retail store or even a fitness store.” She jotted down some stores on a sticky note before handing it to Bradley. She also refrained from mentioning you could find them at toy stores since he seemed the type to hate being even remotely treated or referred to as a child in any way, shape, or form.

“Anyway, try not to be so hard on yourself, Mr. Uppercrust. You’re going through very difficult things right now, and you have a lot on your plate. You’re being put into new environments and I’m sure you feel like you’re lost and out of control, so your emotions are going to constantly be on edge and heightened, just like anyone else would be, anger issues or not.” Mrs. Coleman reassured, “The last thing you need to do right now is put more pressure onto yourself. Now, how about you tell me about how your new job is going?”

The rest of that session was ranting about his negligent manager, his horrible trainer, and how frustrating customers and the coffee machines were. Bradley, even though he was ranting very angrily, spewing fifty words a second, managed to not have a horrible outburst. Instead, the toy became a very quick stress reliever that subconsciously kept him in check. By the time the session was over, he felt like a load was gone, and he seemed ready to go to work the next day and take on everything. Especially with the advice Mrs. Coleman gave him on how to deal with people.

Three days later when Bradley was at work, he was trying to complete a customer’s incredibly complicated order. He made a mental note to stop ordering overly complicated off-the-menu items as he topped off the drink with whipped cream and a pinch- a literal pinch -of cinnamon. That’s when his trainer, Joseph, spooked him from behind with a loud shout. “Hurry it up, Brad! This customer is getting pissy at me for you taking forever to do your job!” Which caused Bradley to jump nearly out of his skin, since Joseph shouted in his ear! It was as if in slow motion Bradley witnessed his hand knock into the drink and it toppled over, spilling all over the counter and floor, dribbling onto his nice work shoes. It was dead silent for about fifteen seconds before Joseph huffed and threw his hands up in the air, incredibly bothered and inconvenienced.

“Great going, Brad! Now you have to clean all of this up, and the customer’s drink has to get remade!”

Bradley felt his ears grow hot, and his fists clenched the counter as he could start to feel his blood boiling and his pulse sounded loud in his ears. Before he could really lose it, he clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath, held it for about ten seconds, and let it out, counting to ten. He repeated it two more times and mentally shouted “Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.”

By the time he was calm he turned to Joseph with a blank look and a steely glare that hopefully showed just how much anger he was holding back at that moment. “I’ll remake the customer’s drink, but after that I’m going on my break.” He poked Joseph in the chest, “Please try not to startle me again while I redo her order.” With that, Bradley turned right back around and spent the next ten minutes quickly remaking the order, wiping down the counter at least so that his workspace was clean, and then handing out the order and giving the lady a discount for the long wait. He ignored Joseph’s indignant attitude the entire time and by the time he was in the breakroom eating his lunch, he felt proud of himself for how he handled that situation. As it turns out, he really was making progress.

When he retold the events, and a few other successful or near successful moments of him controlling his anger, he was met with kudos and encouraging words from Mrs. Coleman. It was towards their last session of the break, since they would both be holding off meetings due to the holidays, that Bradley thanked her in his own little way by making Judy deliver a new fancy throw pillow to replace the old one, and a nice designer scarf with a small and simple note that said, Thanks for enduring and helping me. – Bradley Uppercrust III, to Mrs. Coleman. She smiled and replaced the throw pillow before she left the office that day.

Bradley anxiously tapped his pointer finger against the steering wheel as he finally pulled into the driveway of his father’s massive house. A massive house put lightly; it technically could have been considered a mansion. As he parked he simply held onto the steering wheel and took some deep breaths before leaning his head against the wheel. All he had to do was be here for the rest of Christmas Eve and then Christmas morning and maybe the afternoon, and then he could drive home in the evening late after Christmas dinner, to humor his stepmother and her stupid hopes of having a normal happy family for the holidays.

Bradley heaved a sigh, as if getting out of his car was as taxing as moving fifty-pound boxes up ten flights of stairs under extreme hot weather in no AC. Not that Bradley had ever done that, but he figured going to see his family felt similar enough to that. As he climbed out the car and popped the trunk open, he collected the wrapped gifts he brought for Christmas since his father made sure Bradley always had the proper clothes to wear at the house, and his bathroom never went unstocked with toiletries lest he stop by for a random visit or stay. Besides it’s not like his family was hurting for money, so they had the luxury to do these things for him anyway.

He felt like he had weights chained to his ankles as he carried the presents up the steps to the front door. As he walked, he tried to remember what his therapist told him when he admitted to being nervous about going back to see his father.

“Look, I may be a master of lying and deceit, but that’s just with everyone else. Whenever I’m with my father, I just buckle under the pressure. He doesn’t even have to do much to make me cave, he just gives me this look and it’s like he could smell the mistake from across the Atlantic Ocean or something!” Bradley rocked himself back and forth as he fidgeted with the stress ball, squishing it, pulling it, tossing it back and forth between his hands, before smashing it together and repeating the process. “There was already no way for me to get around him finding out that I lost the X-Games. It was broadcast live and there’s no doubt word reached him, or for once in his life, watched it! But luckily Tank seemed to give me enough mercy to not let word get back to my father yet about being kicked out of Gamma Mu Mu, and I know that’s got to be the case because my father would have already come knocking down my apartment door demanding an explanation and yelling at me about how much of a disappointment and embarrassment I am. He hasn’t though, so I still have a chance to sweep this under the rug and figure something out.” Bradley brainstormed, his nerves feeling like they were buzzing through veins from his head to his toes.

Mrs. Coleman frowned as she listened and wondered how she should breach the topic that Bradley’s relationship with his father wasn’t exactly healthy. She figured they might need to save that conversation for another time, especially since they were about to leave for the holidays. Instead, she figured she could try and give him some advice without making it sound as bad as she thought the relationship between the two were.

“I just… I really don’t know what to do. I already tried to cancel and say I couldn’t come, but Clara insisted that I come and that my siblings missed me so much and wanted to see me.” Bradley crossed his arms and scoffed, as if the idea of family missing him was preposterous.

“And Clara is, I’m guessing, your stepmom, right?”

“Stepmother, but yes. You are correct.” Bradley’s demeanor turned cold.

“And how many siblings do you have?”

“Technically I have four siblings, but in my opinion they hardly count. I’m the second oldest after my father remarried. I have an older stepbrother and a younger stepsister from Clara. Then my father and her had my youngest half-brother. I also have a half-brother from my mother’s side, but they’re all basically irrelevant in my life. I never see them.” Bradley tried to pass it off as nonchalant, but Mrs. Coleman could still easily see the hurt in his features and hear the resentment in his voice.

Mrs. Coleman nodded and thought about which topic she should even attempt to approach first when Bradley beat her to it. “So, help me. How exactly am I going to lie to my father about how the end of my semester went and how my break has been going. I can tell him I gave up on skating because he’s always thought of it as a waste of energy. He’s been itching for a moment to finally get me to quit, so he’ll be satisfied hearing that. However, he’ll start questioning how my relationship with my Gamma Mu Mu brothers has improved, and what I’ve been doing to repair my connections with them as a team. I can NOT tell him that it’s basically nonexistent and irreparable. Let alone that I’ve been kicked out and that I’m living in an apartment that’s sort of cheap and definitely not up to his standards, let alone my standards!” Bradley ran his hands through his hair as he stared at the ceiling for answers. “I can’t tell him about my job, or the fact I’m seeking out therapy, nor can I tell him that I have basically become a hermit that can’t find the motivation to even get out of bed on a good day!” Bradley felt heat behind his eyes, to his horror, and realized this time his reaction wasn’t anger. It was different. Very different. Perhaps ten billion times more humiliating than whatever angry outburst he could have come up with. No, he was starting to cry. Bradley blinked his eyes repeatedly and then glared wide eyed at the ceiling, hoping that the fan circulating the air in the room would help dry his eyes out because it was one thing to not be able to control his anger, but to also not have any control over whether he cries or not?! That was just too much and too far.

“Bradley? Are you alright?” Mrs. Coleman asked, her voice laced with concern and a warmth Bradley wasn’t very familiar with hearing. He shook his head and closed his eyes tightly trying to keep the tears at bay. “Could you take a deep breath, or just a moment to yourself, and then tell me what’s wrong?” Bradley nodded and did just as she said. Letting the emotions just slowly drift out of him with every breath.

“It’s just… I hate that I can’t tell my father anything. I can’t confide in him, and I can’t tell him about my life unless it’s going great, and even then, he doesn’t tend to care or see the need to discuss it further if everything’s fine.” Bradley admitted and dropped his head back into his hands. “Is it bad that I-“ Bradley bit his lip to cut himself off. His next string of thoughts was dangerous. Something he would probably have never admitted before in his life if he hadn’t felt so alone and been at rock bottom.

Mrs. Coleman was quick to encourage him to continue, “Is what bad, Bradley? Remember this is a safe space. No one is going to hear what you say besides just the two of us, so if that’s what is holding you back, then you’re safe from that happening in my office. There is no way anything you say will go past this door, unless it is a cause of concern for your own well-being or another person’s.” Bradley nodded, remembering that last bit of information which he had been told quite a few times throughout the sessions he had been to. The other comment did reassure him more though.

Enough to finally admit, “Is it bad that sometimes I get jealous over Goof’s relationship with his dad? I just- I wish mine cared even a fraction of how much Mr. Goof does for that freshman, for me.” He glared down at his still stained work shoes, letting the silence envelope him and the room.

Mrs. Coleman was quiet for a moment before reaching over and placing a gentle, comforting hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “Please, look at me, Bradley. I need you to hear me when I say this.” And she only continued when Bradley finally, just barely met her eyes, “There is nothing wrong with wanting something better for yourself. I’m sorry that your father treats you how he does, and it is completely normal and valid for you to be jealous over it. I believe that you deserve to have a father who cares for you just as much as Mr. Goof cares for his son.” And if Bradley ended up crying and seeking solace in the throw pillow he gifted to Mrs. Coleman, as she did her best to comfort him, then that was no one’s business but their own, and it certainly did not reach any ears outside of the office.

After some more baggage unpacking, eventually Mrs. Coleman did give Bradley good enough advice on how to address (or rather omit) the elephant in the room. “Mr. Uppercrust, if you truly believe that you would be safer, whether it is emotionally or physically, not telling your father the truth then I suggest that you don’t. If you must, just try and change the subject, or feed him the same information that you have been for the past semester about your current past times and hobbies. If lying is really that difficult for you then you could simply omit the information. You said it yourself; you have no problem doing this with other people besides your father, the only thing that makes it difficult for you is that I think you start overthinking and self-sabotaging yourself.” Mrs. Coleman adjusted her glasses before sighing. “And while usually I am a candidate for clear communication, especially with close friends and loved ones, I can also realize when the individual may be putting themselves in more of a bind by being so open. Unfortunately, not all loved ones are caring, or understanding. At the end of the day, whichever you think is the best course of action, that’s what you should do.”

As Bradley took many mental notes, Mrs. Coleman decided to move them on to these ‘roleplaying’ scenes where she made Bradley play as his father and interrogate her while she responded as if she were Bradley. She was trying to give him a first-hand guide on how to navigate any possible interrogations, and once she was satisfied that Bradley had quite a few good tactics, she made them swap roles and they continued to practice until the session was over.

By the time Bradley was let into the mansion and made his way to the main living room which held the biggest Christmas tree in the entire place, he had calmed himself back down and mentally prepared himself for any interactions with his father. This time he would not budge or crumble under the weight of his speculating accusatory gaze. He could get around it this time, he felt confident and prepared. Although, he was still lost inside his head as he set the presents down and began slowly arranging them under the tree with the rest of the gifts, trying to make it look aesthetically pleasing. That’s when suddenly he heard fast approaching steps and then he was nearly tackled down into the gifts, but luckily, he caught himself just in time.

“BRADLEY!! You’re home!!” A girl who sounded about the age of fourteen cheered and nearly choked him out with how one of her arms was wrapped around his neck, and locked onto her other hand, as Bradley had also quickly leaned all the way back to keep himself from falling forward and causing a Christmas disaster.

“Diana! Let Bradley go right now! You know better than to cause such a ruckus, especially so close to the tree.” A soft click of heels entered the room and a soft, yet scolding voice followed. Bradley recognized her immediately as Clara, and there was no doubt who had the nerve to tackle him, it was obviously his stepsister, Diana. “And you’re choking him sweetie, let go of your stepbrother. I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate that as a warm welcome back for the holidays.” She sighed but watched them fondly.

Diana giggled before letting go and dropping to her feet and Bradley turned to see her glaring up at him. Bradley internally groaned, She’s so bipolar. Especially after she got her lady thing- oh gosh she better not be on it right now or she’ll be twice as unbearable. Bradley internally cringed and then yelped when he was socked in the arm. “What was that for, Diana?!” He held his arm and flinched away.

She continued to glare and pointed a big accusing bandaged finger in his face, her brown curly hair, which came from her father’s side, making her all the more intimidating as it puffed out behind her head. “You came back for the holidays late!! Now I’ll only get to see you for two days! Two. Days. Bradley.” She crossed her arms with a huff and looked away. “I wanted to hang out with you and tell you how awesome my freshman year was, and now I’ll be rushed! Who knows if I’ll even be able to tell you everything that happened!”

“Diana! Do not punch Bradley, show him some respect and apologize to him.” Clara admonished and gave Bradley a nervous look, but was both surprised and relieved when she noticed his expression was simply amused and perhaps a bit touched? Was she seeing that right? There was no doubt that Diana was Bradley’s favorite sibling, but that title was even stretching it. If anything, it would have been best described, as Diana was the sibling he tolerated the most, but he would still lose his patience with her quite a bit. But now Bradley just seemed fond of her little attitude.

Diana grumbled something under her breath before blowing some hair out of her face, well attempting to, and then turned to Bradley with a grumble, “Sorryyy for hitting you… but you still got here late! I hardly see you anymore since you’ve gone to college.” She huffed and Bradley softened just a bit. Clara was sure her stepson had been replaced, or maybe she just never noticed that Bradley seemed to care for Diana back. She knew Diana was obsessed over Bradley when they had first started out as a little family, trying to follow him everywhere and act like him. That admiration only grew once she started to see him skate and gain trophies in sports and academics, then graduating top of his class. He was her idol, but Bradley always seemed to think of her as nothing more than a little fan or minion.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for not coming back sooner. But I think I’ve made it up to you with the gift you’re gonna get-“ Bradley smirked but was quickly cut off with flustered shushes from Clara.

“No! Bradley no giving away the gifts! Remember the rule: all gifts-“

“Must stay a surprise until it’s time to open them.” Diana, Bradley, and two extra voices joined in sync to finish Clara’s sentence. The two extra voices belonged to his older stepbrother, Jacob, and his younger half-brother, Brandon. Clara blinked at them before she smiled brightly and let out a small laugh that reminded Bradley of bells.

“I’m glad you all remember my rule, hopefully enough that you don’t break it.” She hummed but honestly it just came off playfully and as if she couldn’t care less if the four seemed to continue getting along. “Well, I’ll leave you all to catch up. I’m sure you’re all excited to see Bradley.” Clara left swiftly before her presence could manage to sour Bradley’s mood as it often did.

Bradley watched her leave with a small twinge of something in his chest that normally he never acknowledged before. This whole therapy and growth thing was seriously starting to get to him in all sorts of ways, wasn’t it? He turned to his siblings and was surprised when Brandon bounded over to him with as much energy a seven-year-old who seemed to be running on a sugar high could have. Which was a lot.

“Bradley! Bradley! BradleyBradleyBradley!!” Brandon exclaimed and tugged on his sweater. Bradley grimaced and tried to placate Brandon while subtly trying to nudge and ungrasp the sticky hands from his designer cashmere sweater.

“Yes, Brandon? What is it?”

“Look! Look what happened to me!” He grinned and then let go to show off his full set of teeth and gums- which happened to be missing three teeth. “Do’ou shee?!” He said open mouthed and bright eyed. Bradley stared before chuckling and ruffling Brandon’s hair causing the boy to cackle and bat away at his hand. “Stop it!” He laughed and then tried to get him back but didn’t come anywhere close to even reaching Bradley’s hair. “Not fair, you’re too tall!”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll almost be as tall as me some day.” Bradley smirked and then hummed. “But, uh, those tooth gaps sure are cool, Brandon.” He cringed inwardly. He honestly never really knew how to interact with little kids, even if they were his siblings. Bradley did remember that Clara tried to keep up with the classic childhood tales for her kids though, so he attempted to offer out a small olive branch. “Did you already leave the teeth for the Tooth Fairy?”

Brandon shook his head, gave Bradley a suddenly very serious look, and began digging around in his pockets until he fished out a small little toy treasure box. One that he hadn’t seen since middle school when he had lost a tooth in class and had to go to the nurse’s office for it. It was bright orange. “Nope!” He popped the ‘p’ and then struggled before popping the chest open to reveal his three missing teeth, “I’m tryna save ‘em all up. That way I can get a LOT of money all at once and then I can give it to you because Mama says you’re learning how to manage money, and I want to make sure I make a pr- profit? Profit! I wanna make a profit off it just like how you and Dad do with your stuff.” Brandon grinned up at Bradley and wore a proud self-satisfied look on his face. “Good plan, right? I’m one of the smartest in my class! Just like you and Jacob were.”

Bradley blinked dumbly as he registered everything his little brother told him. Honestly, it was just now starting to hit him just how much his younger siblings seemed to look up to him in this moment. He was so used to them being a nuisance, getting in his way and trying to distract him, or trying to bother him and his friends. However, maybe the loneliness of the past month and a half had started to make him realize just how lonely he felt, and how stupid that was when he clearly seemed to have people who cared a lot about him. Sure, they didn’t know how much of a horrible person he was outside of this house, but did they really have too? They seemed to only be looking up to his good qualities. The ones he only ever showed around his family to keep up their pristine image. A small seed of doubt planted in his mind at the thought of how they would react if they found out the extent of his actions. Diana would surely be disappointed and crushed realizing someone she looked up to would do such horrible things. That he would treat people so poorly. How imperfect he was with his billions of flaws. Even worse though was that Brandon probably wouldn’t even understand just how bad Bradley’s actions had been. He was young and easily impressionable; his brain recalled some words his therapist had told him during one of their sessions when Bradley had questioned why his parents’ reactions when they were angry was so important enough to be discussed. He didn’t want Brandon to become him lest he hit rock bottom just as badly in the future. It only resolved his goal to make sure nothing of what was happening at the University reached back to his father’s ears. If it did then there would be no doubt Bradley would be stripped of his dignity in front of the rest of them, and their rose-tinted lenses would be shattered.

“That’s a super smart plan, Brandon. I’m really impressed that you came up with it.” Bradley shook himself out of his stupor and patted Brandon’s back encouragingly. Brandon looked like he had just been given a whole candy store and his chest puffed out proudly.

“And I came up with it all by myself too!”

Bradley chuckled and nodded along. “All by yourself?! Well color me impressed! You’re going to go places, especially if you keep this thinking up. Now why don’t you go and find somewhere safer to keep your loot than in your pocket, so that nothing can mess up your plan?” Brandon gasped and then quickly ran out of the room and somewhere upstairs as he yelled something about Bradley being, “So right!” The three other siblings watched him go with different levels of amusement before Diana decided she was rather bored of exchanging pleasantries.

“I’m gonna go and call my friends! Come and find me when you’re done settling in and want to hang, Bradley!” She called as she tried to look cool and nonchalant, but also eagerly made her way to her room. Bradley nodded and called out a, “Will do!” Watching her fade away up the staircase. Then it was just him and Jacob. They didn’t have a bad relationship, but it wasn’t anything special either. They simply acknowledged each other’s existence since Jacob was older than Bradley by five or six years. He was usually busy with his girlfriend and job as a neurologist, not that Bradley had ever cared to try to have any sort of connection with him anyway.

“It’s nice seeing you, Bradley.” Jacob hummed as he pulled out his phone to send a text. “For a minute there, I thought you wouldn’t even show up.” Bradley glared at him. While he appreciated it when people were direct with him, Jacob always had a way of saying just the wrong things that irked Bradley until he couldn’t stand to be around him anymore.

“Of course not. I would never miss Christmas, no matter how busy I am during the holidays.” Bradley huffed and crossed his arms, ready to just get this small talk over with.

Jacob looked up from his phone, steely grey eyes piercing into him. “Oh? And what’s kept you so busy during the holidays? I mean I’m a neurologist and I even managed to get a week off for the holidays.”

Bradley had to refrain from letting out any snarky comments and instead decided to use some of his practice with Mrs. Coleman on Jacob. “Oh, just the usual…” Bradley shrugged. Just be vague and aloof. You’re always good at this with other people. It’s just Jacob, it’s not even your father.

Jacob seemed to want to press but either thought against it or simply didn’t care enough to waste his time asking and listening. “Ah, yes, well. I hope you had fun doing whatever it is that keeps you busy. I’ll see you at dinner, I must go take this call.” And with that Bradley was left alone in the living room, relief filling his body from successfully making it through what he deemed as a ‘practice round.’

Chapter Text

The next few hours of the day were spent with Bradley settling in and then hanging out with Diana and Brandon, trying to juggle with giving each of them their own time to hang out with him and trying to give them his undivided attention. Bradley had never really done that before. Usually, he would try to brush them off, get stuck with babysitting them, or just ignore them entirely while giving them the bare minimum of attention. As Bradley thought about it, he truly had no idea why they liked him so much. He wasn’t a good brother at all, but in all fairness, Jacob was basically nonexistent in their lives due to the massive age gap between them, so Bradley figured he had just been some placeholder. The next best thing. A runner up big brother. However, now as he gave them the time of day and his full attention, listening to what drama and stories Diana had to tell; playing whatever confusing yet fun games Brandon wanted to play, Bradley realized that wasn’t the case at all. They seemed to truly look up to him as an older brother figure. The attention they gave him reminded him of his Gammas, only this time Bradley felt less entitled to it, and more touched.

By the time they had to get dressed and ready for dinner, Bradley was wiped out, but despite that he still managed to feel content. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in a while. Since the X-Games started to slip out of his grasp really. Especially after being so lonely and cooped up in his apartment or at that infuriating coffee shop. As Bradley freshened up he took the time to really admire the progress he had been making, and looked forward to any future progress to be made once he got back. Mrs. Coleman had given him some homework while they skipped that week’s session, and it was to think and write down anything he wanted to work on when they got back. From something as deep as unpacking childhood baggage to something as simple as trying to branch out into new hobbies. Bradley had jotted down a few ideas, one including trying to find new hobbies when school started. He planned on trying to scope out some clubs, see if his reputation was ruined enough that even the unpopular clubs would turn their nose up at him, or if they had never even heard of skateboarding, let alone the X-Games and his treachery. He also planned to start delving into more of his anger management issues, figuring out where they really stemmed from since apparently identifying the source of where the habits began was also a good way to start overcoming them. Something about gaining a better understanding of yourself and learning to let things go. Since Bradley thought he was doing well in wrangling his anger, he figured that it would be fine if he started to poke and prod at his deeper emotions.

Bradley made his way to dinner, and eventually took his seat next to the empty spot that his father would claim in a minute that was the head of the table. The empty plate in front of him sparkled and he began to straighten out his silverware that laid on his little set up. He moved his attention to everyone who made it to the table and wasn’t all that surprised to find his father being the last one to show up. A good ten to fifteen minutes passed which Bradley spent ogling at the food before his father finally deemed them worthy of the time of day to join them. His father said nothing as he moved to get ready to pray, as per Clara’s request as always for any holiday meals, and the table grew silent before they finished and began to dig in. Clara made sure to assist Brandon in loading up his plate while the rest of them took care of arranging their own plates. A butler went around filling their drinks with whatever they had asked for and the Uppercrust family ate in formal silence until about halfway through the meal when Mr. Uppercrust the II finally cleared his throat and gave a respectful nod to his wife.

“You did an amazing job on the meal, Clara.”

Clara smiled bashfully and gave him an appreciative look. Ever since they had been together, she had insisted on being the one to make the holiday meals for the family. Something about it being more meaningful and personable. That it would help strengthen and bring their family together. Bradley honestly didn’t believe that one bit, but he wouldn’t argue with Clara, and by extension, his father. “Thank you Brad, I had hoped this year’s ham would come out better than the last one.”

“It’s really good, Mom.” Diana chimed in and then went back to quietly eating. Brandon nodded vigorously in agreement but took no time to pause for even a breath, just scooping it all up into his mouth as if he were a vacuum cleaner.

“Awe, thank you, Diana.” Clara reached over and brushed some hair out of Diana’s face before pinching her cheek lightly and then taking a sip of her wine. Diana huffed and rubbed on her cheek but didn’t add anything else.

After taking a swig of his whiskey, Jacob cleared his throat and turned to Clara as well to give his compliments, which left Bradley as the last one to speak. Bradley internally raged as he realized he had been too slow, and the last person to give their compliments to the chef about the meal always happened to be the first interrogated by their father. “Yes, the food is amazing, Clara.” Bradley stuffed some ham in his mouth to stall for a bit before taking a sip of his water. He skipped out on the alcohol this year, too worried that he would slip up even with the slightest drop in his system. He did not want to risk anything going wrong. “The ham is especially good this year. Did you try something new with the recipe?” Bradley hoped that maybe he could escape his father’s questionnaire by leading Clara into some small talk about how she cooked the ham, but unfortunately her explanation was plain, short, and simple. Then without even a moment of silence to spare between conversations, his father cleared his voice again as he began to saw his meat into bite sized pieces.

“So, Bradley. How have things been going with your fraternity brothers?” His gaze bored into his soul and Bradley forced himself not to waver. He just had to remain calm and collected. As if nothing was wrong and out of the ordinary. The only person who could give everything away was himself, so he just had to control himself, which was easy! He could do this. “Have you found a way to… make it up to them?” His father trailed off and tried to make it sound as pleasant as possible for the company around them, but Bradley understood the underlying meaning. Had he forced them back under his submission yet? Gotten the frat back under his reigns?

Bradley turned his attention back to his food and gave a stiff short nod. “It’s a work in progress at the moment, but I’m getting there easily.” His father nodded, staring at him for a moment as if searching for something before shrugging and continuing.

“How about your break? What have you been doing while there?”

“Oh, just trying to get on the Gamma’s good side. Hosting small events for the frat to keep the funds and involvement up, since it’s just so dry during the break. Especially winter break.” Bradley surprised himself with how smoothly he had just lied to his father. His confidence encouraged him to continue with a nonchalant air to him, “I’ve been thinking of getting into tennis, and I have been looking into signing up to be a tutor for the Math Lab. I think those things would look good on my resume; don’t you think father?” He took a moment to sip his water. To be fair, that wasn’t entirely a lie. He really was going to be a tutor for the Math Lab this semester since he had more free time again, and he had entertained the idea of playing tennis, but that thought honestly didn’t go very far.

His father narrowed his eyes skeptically at Bradley, making the hairs on the back of his neck raise in anticipation of the next question. He thought his response was good, but maybe he had slipped up somewhere?? The worries slowly vanished as his father finally asked, “What happened to skating? You don’t want to continue it anymore, or are you trying to take on two sports this semester?” The tone in his father’s voice made it clear how much he did not like the idea of adding more sports to Bradley’s already heavy load.

Bradley’s mouth went dry as he averted his gaze. At least he wouldn’t be entirely lying about everything to his father. However, he wished that this could have been one of the lies instead of something he was honest about. “Actually, I’m going to quit skating. You were right, it was a waste of my time. I should be focusing on more important things, and trying to make better connections while I am here.” Bradley picked at his food, glaring at it as if the food was the reason he couldn’t even bear looking at his skateboard anymore.

His father let out a haughty laugh and threw back his glass of brandy, finishing it off. “Well, thank goodness! I’m glad you finally got out of that phase, even if it took you losing and facing public humiliation to do so.” His father cut himself another slice of ham as he continued, not even noticing how Bradley seemed to sink in on himself. His grip tightening on his silverware and his glare turned a twinge more pained. “At least no one who is too important pays attention to such a ridiculous sport. I mean I barely watched it until Clara told me to come watch because some big disaster had happened.” Bradley decided to not let his father know that the X-Games are the most popular sports event at his university since he seemed to be unaware of that fact.

“Brad!” Clara peeped and gave her husband an admonishing look before turning to Bradley with a tight pitiful smile. “We’re just happy that you were alright, Bradley. Besides the uh- at the end there, but we’re just glad nothing bad happened to you.” Bradley nodded numbly wondering why Clara ever cared to try and salvage anything his father said to him.

“Wait wait wait, what?!” Diana shouted from beside him and stared at Bradley with big disbelieving eyes. “You’re giving up on skating?!” She searched his face as if begging for this information not to be true. Bradley had no idea why she cared so much for his skating career and just gave a half-hearted shrug.

“Yes. I am. It was a stupid sport anyway; I have better things to do with my time.” Bradley snipped and just hoped that everyone would give up on the topic. He was tired of talking about himself for once in his life, and he was completely done with talking about his pathetic skating career. His father was right, and now that he had basically no friends, there would be no way he could scrounge up a team for any future X-Game competitions. Not only that but just the idea of going to the skatepark or facing any of the other skating competitors that he had gone up against in the past made him feel nauseous.

Diana did not seem to like his response though. Instead, she seemed disappointed and offended. “Take that back! Take that back right now, Bradley!” She pointed her fork in his face threateningly and Bradley lurched back, bewildered.

“Diana! Put your fork down, and do not shout at the table!” Clara scolded and looked over at Bradley Uppercrust the II nervously before turning her attention back to the commotion. Bradley’s father watched the scene quietly but with calculating eyes as he continued to eat.

“Take it back and then I’ll put the fork down!” Diana huffed and nearly poked Bradley’s nose as she tried to reinforce her words. Bradley glared at her as he pushed the fork out of his face, and he spat out.

“No! Skating is a stupid sport, and it’s a waste of time! Anyone who takes it seriously is just pathetic and is going to go nowhere.” Bradley felt as if his blood was burning and his pulse was loud in his ears, his face hot. Diana’s face fell as if she had been slapped and Bradley watched as her eyes turned glossy. She threw her silverware onto her plate before pushing out of her seat and running out of the dining room with a meek, “Excuse me.”

Clara called after her daughter for a minute before she sighed and turned back to the table uttering a small, “I’ll talk to her later.”

“Well, I’m just glad that you’re turning your attention to more productive hobbies that you could spend your time indulging in, and are no longer wasting away the hours with frivolous activities and people.” Mr. Uppercrust II said. The rest of the family finished their food and dinner in tense silence, doing their best to ignore the awkwardness. When it was over they all bid each other a goodnight, and Clara took Brandon away to get him ready for bed. She liked to be a hands-on mother and Bradley couldn’t help the small amount of bitterness that bit at him every time he witnessed it.

The three men simply went their opposite ways, the other two busy as always, and Bradley just wanting to turn in for an early sleep. As he made his way to his old room and walked down the bare, pristine echoey hallways. He made his way past plenty of random rooms that held several things before passing one of them he could vaguely hear loud music blasting and loud sobs. Bradley blinked and took in the bare door before he realized it was Diana’s room. Bradley thought back to their argument at dinner and cringed. He had no idea that she cared this much, enough to cry about it. To be fair, Bradley had no idea what she was even being defensive about. He couldn’t recall a moment where she had ever shown an interest in skating. He almost just kept walking since it honestly was none of his business, and Clara had already said that she would check on Diana.

Another loud sob hit his ears and Bradley thought back to when he was younger and how he would cry after being scolded by his father. How his mother spent more time yelling at him for how he treated Bradley that by the time she got around to checking in on him, Bradley had already calmed himself down and wanted to just be alone and go to bed early. How he wished that for once his mother, or anyone would come in and comfort him. So, Bradley knocked on the door and waited. He heard the crying stop and then Diana shouted, “Go away, Mom! I don’t wanna talk to you!”

Bradley rolled his eyes. Teenage angst, of course. “It’s not your mom, it’s Bradley! Remember, the stepbrother that you have and yelled at for not being here sooner to hang out?” He crossed his arms and glared at the door unimpressed.

He heard shuffling from behind the door and the music turned down, but the door had yet to open. “Yeah, but that was before you were being an asshole!” She shouted back through the door and Bradley’s eyes widened at the vulgar language. She was cursing already. He couldn’t remember ever cursing when he was fourteen, but then again, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

“Aren’t you like ten? You shouldn’t be calling me an asshole at that age.” Bradley huffed and watched as the door swung open and she leveled at him with another mean glare. Her hair was frizzled and flying out in every which way, her eyes bloodshot and face splotchy. She had definitely been crying.

“I’m fourteen!” She spat, “And I’m mad at you! What do you want?!”

Bradley sighed and looked at her with a slightly uncomfortable but soft face. “Look, I’m… sorry,” He managed, “For hurting your feelings earlier. With what I said. Do you… do you want to talk about it?” He tried and watched as Diana’s tense demeanor left her entirely and she looked up at Bradley with a touched look. As if his apology had meant a lot to her. Bradley was surprised at how much he felt better! He wasn’t even the sad one, and he had dug up some of his pride to apologize for something that was kind of irrelevant to him. This apology didn’t make him feel like he was belittling himself or admitting he was imperfect. Instead, he felt like he was just comforting someone. Helping them seek some closure, even if he didn’t entirely understand how he had upset her.

Diana smiled before turning a little pink from embarrassment and then stared at her shoes as she scuffed them against the floor and swung herself on the door. “Thanks, Bradley. Um, actually I would like to talk about it.” She chewed on her bottom lip and left the door open as she retreated further into her room and flopped onto her bed. “Come on! You can sit at my desk.” It was the spot with one of the closest seats to the bed. Bradley nodded and closed the door behind him to give Diana their conversation some privacy and then gingerly sat at her desk. He took in just how edgy and honestly kind of boyish her room was. Posters of bands and some pop stars littered the wall. Most of the items and furniture in her room were black, purple, hot pink, or red. Her room was honestly a mess as clothes seemed to just be strewn around and Bradley scrunched his nose up at the sports bra and socks he witnessed thrown on the shoe rack (which had no shoes on it) that was by her closet. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess right now.” She cringed and tried to hide the even worse mess on her bed under her plethora of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. She gave Bradley a sheepish smile which Bradley returned with an eye roll and a dismissive wave of his hand.

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’ve seen worse from some of the Gammas.” Bradley said and then they sat in slight awkward silence as he began to swing the desk chair side to side. “So… what uh, what did you wanna talk about?” He tried and visibly cringed again at how awkward he was with comforting people, let alone one of his siblings. Why am I so bad at this? He mentally smacked himself.

Diana sighed and grabbed one of her stuffed animals, a giant chubby lion, and squeezed it to her chest as she played with its mane. “Do you really think skating is stupid? I thought you loved it. You’re so good at it too!” She had no problem getting to the meat of her problems, it seemed. Bradley wished he could be that direct and open about his issues, at least with his therapist.

Bradley pursed his lips and continued to look around the room. “Honestly… no, I don’t. But I know that my father would like to hear that, so that’s what I tell him.” Bradley also felt a bit salty with the sport after losing it, but he was going to be as honest with his stepsister since he felt that she deserved it.

Diana immediately looked hopeful and excited as she stared at him. “Really?! Thank gosh!” So does that mean you’re not actually quitting skating?!”

Bradley scoffed and crossed his arms again as he shook his head. “Oh no! I’m definitely quitting. I wasn’t lying about that. It is a waste of my time, and there’s no point in me doing it anymore. I just don’t think it’s stupid.” Diana frowned and she got a weird, constipated look on her face. Bradley looked at her confused, “What?”

“Is this because you got second place? You know second place isn’t bad right?” Diana’s constipated face turned into something more caring but pitiful, or maybe it was sympathy. Bradley was certain it was pity, and he refused to be pitied.

He bristled and gripped the armrests and said indignantly, “NO! Absolutely not! This has nothing to do with me losing, and even if it was, second place is a bad thing, Diana! Second place is just first place for losers.” He felt his face go hot again and he realized he was growing angry again, so he took a deep breath and rubbed his temples to calm down.

Diana bristled and squeezed her stuffed animal tighter as she glared. “Oh, you sound just like your father, Bradley! You sound like Jacob too! Second place is good! I don’t understand why people in this family HAVE to be the best!” Bradley watched as tears stung at her eyes and she hugged her stuffed animal into the side of her face, she wasn’t looking at Bradley anymore. “The way you guys talk about people who don’t win is horrible. I don’t even think you realize how it makes people feel either.” She mumbled and wiped her eyes, as if annoyed at the tears that were trying to fall.

Bradley just sat there stiff and uncomfortable, unsure of how to comfort her. His mind was boggled by her words. Sure, sometimes he was purposefully mean and antagonistic with his bragging. Sometimes he tried to make people feel bad about them losing, but that was only with competitions he was in. Bradley also thought the only person he could hurt with his high expectations for himself, was well, himself. However, it seemed like that was not the case, and he wanted to know more. “Diana…” His voice got stuck before he cleared it. “What do you mean?”

His stepsister sighed, as if the weight of the world sat on her, and she toyed with the mane of her chibi again. “You guys all talk about how awesome you are because you win at things. That you got first place, and how much you guys are the best in the class, and the best at skating, and how you have the highest grades and GPAs. Even Brandon has started bragging about how great he is! But you all are so busy trying to prove yourselves to our parents and to everyone else that you don’t even realize how much it sucks to be part of the losers.” Diana choked up and she reached over to her side table to grab a tissue and blow her nose, immediately tossing it to the side, not caring how it landed on the floor. “But I’m one of those losers! And it sucks when I try my best and all I can manage is a high C on my essay, or I manage to place third in a race among my classmates. I’m not good at stuff like the rest of you! Jacob is, like, super nerdy and smart, and he has his Doctorate. You’ve always been at the top of your classes and like super athletic! When Brandon was a baby, he learned how to walk, speak, and shit in a toilet at an early age, and now he’s liked by everyone in his class, and he’s got these awesome ideas! Meanwhile I- I just-“ She deflated and threw her lion at the wall in anger with an unintelligible shout. Then she just collapsed onto her bed and buried her face in her hands. “I’m just some loser,” She mumbled.

Bradley wasn’t someone who ever really felt bad for other people. That was because he had never taken the chance to really listen to someone else’s problems before. Let alone someone he cared about, and right now Bradley realized how much he cared for his family. He was starting to get past the resentment, the resistance, and all of his internalized angst to really accept the family that wanted to be involved with him. The family that did care about him. He wanted to be there for them just like how they had tried to be there for him too. Bradley stood up and after a moment of awkwardly trying to think through how to comfort an insecure very hormonal teenage girl, he sat at the edge of the bed, ignoring how disgusted he was of the mess, and tentatively patted her back. He decided to use his therapist as a mental guide. She was always great at comforting Bradley.

“It’s… It’s alright if you need to cry or get angry. You probably know how bad I am at containing my emotions.” He said dryly and was surprised when that elicited some small giggles. Bradley smiled slightly and urged to continue, “And I’m sorry how the rest of us have made you feel with our… thoughtless comments. I can’t speak for your brothers, but I can speak for myself, and I never meant to make you feel like this. It sucks. And I’m sure they didn’t either.” Bradley went from small awkward pats to just rubbing small circles on her arm. Diana’s crying turned into small sniffles. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one who feels like a loser right now too.”

Diana peeked out from behind her hair and gave Bradley a skeptical look. “Really? You feel like a loser too?”

“Yeah, I do, actually.” Bradley admitted begrudgingly, but his feelings didn’t matter right now. “I feel like a massive loser right now because I lost the X-Games and my ex best friend launched me into a blimp.” Bradley took a deep breath and pulled back. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Diana immediately sat up and began trying to wipe away her messy appearance, nodding eagerly. “Yes! I mean- I mean uh, yeah, sure.” She tried to school her expression into something cooler.

Bradley rolled his eyes but was amused. She reminded him of a certain someone, but he brushed past that thought. “Okay well. You have to promise me not to tell a soul. Not anyone from our family. Not your mom, not Jacob, not even Brandon, and especially not my father. Do you promise?” He gave her a very dead serious look.

Diana nodded, taking in the severity of it all and she held out her pinky. “I promise!”

Bradley stared at her pinky strangely before she just reached forward and locked their pinkies in a pinky promise. Bradley blinked before scoffing, “A pinky promise? Seriously?”

Diana nodded and gave him the deadliest most serious look in her eyes. “I never break a pinky promise.” Bradley gulped and then nodded before regaling his terrible tale and his miserable winter break. Diana listened intently and took all the information wholeheartedly. Bradley had hung out and talked with his stepsister before, they even used to have spa nights before he felt too old to do them with her, but this was the first time he truly felt like they were siblings. Like he was truly connecting with her.  Of course, he kept some of the heavier things out and was vague with a few things here or there, but he gave her a good gist of the story, and he told her how he was trying to change after seeking some counseling.

By the time Bradley finished speaking, Diana didn’t look disappointed by him or his character. She wasn’t judgmental or stuck up. Instead, she seemed impressed and concerned. “I’m glad you started seeking help, Bradley. No offense, but it’s kind of nice to hear how not perfect you are.” And while internally hearing that, the old part of Bradley (the part of him from before he started therapy) felt the comment grate against his nerves. It was ultimately pushed down by the other part of him that was just focusing on his goal to make Diana feel better.

“Erm, I’m glad.” Bradley mumbled, which made Diana laugh and then hugged him tightly.

“I’m sorry you’ve been having a rough time though. It sucks feeling like a loser, but I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me.” She squeezed him tighter and didn’t seem all that bothered that Bradley didn’t hug her back.

Bradley nodded and patted her head before just resting it there. “The point of me telling you all of this is that you aren’t alone, even if it may feel like it. A lot of people feel like losers out there, but you aren’t a loser, Diana. You’re super cool, and you do have good qualities, and I can say confidently that you’re a better person than I am, and you still think I’m super cool.” Bradley watched her eyes turn bright at the words. “You’ll find something that you enjoy doing and you’ll end up getting really good at it, and whenever that happens, I want you to call me and tell me all about it, okay?”

Diana nodded and gave him one last big squeeze before finally letting him go and looking bashful. “Okay, um, actually I do have something I’m really good at.” She twiddled her thumbs and kicked her feet at the edge of her bed.

Bradley raised a brow and gave her a little nudge, “Oh? Well then, don’t hold out on me now. Tell me what it is.” He watched as his stepsister turned a bright red and abruptly stood up and nervously stood in front of him.

“Alright, alright! Okay, but you can’t tease me, alright? And you can’t tell anyone about it either! Like, especially our family.” Bradley was growing more intrigued by the second and he held up his pinky finger as a promising gesture. Diana chuckled and locked their pinkies again.

“I promise. I won’t tell anyone.” Diana let her shoulders drop in relief and let out the breath she had been holding before going to her closet and digging through it before letting out a small ‘aha!’ and pulling out- a skateboard!

She held what looked to be a slightly busted, old, and probably fifth hand skateboard in front of her and gave Bradley an overly confident pose. She was probably trying to overcompensate for her nerves. Bradley looked at her in complete shock.

“You… You skate?!”

Diana’s eyes widened and she quickly shushed him and sat back down next to him and set the board on her lap. “Shhh!! Don’t be loud about it. I’m not allowed to. Your dad didn’t want another one of us to start skating like you did, so when I started showing an interest in it, he tried to shut it down.” She explained and ran her fingers along the rough side of the board. “My mom normally would have encouraged it, but she thinks it’s super dangerous anyway, so she didn’t argue with your dad about it. But you just looked so cool whenever you were skating, and you won all these competitions!” She looked up as if recalling some fond memories and Bradley had never felt more touched in his life. “I wanted to be just as cool as you, so I saved up some money and after foraging some note for one of my dumb orchestra practices that said I couldn’t attend that day from my mom, I walked about twenty minutes away after school to some pawn shop and found this.”

She smiled fondly at her ratty skateboard and then sighed. “I eventually quit orchestra since I hate it anyway. Mom doesn’t know, but I keep playing it off like I’m still involved, and it’s risky to keep up this ruse, but I know once she sees how good I am at it already that she’ll be fine with me skating! I’m good, Bradley, I swear!” She turned to him excited and began to tell him how she spends the extra hour at a skatepark near her school, and how sometimes she’ll just skate around and the tricks that she’s been learning. How she’s made some awesome friends her age that go to a nearby public school. Bradley listened to her before she came to a pause, having said everything she wanted to say.

“So… that’s why you got so upset earlier?” Diana seemed confused before she remembered the reason why they even started talking in the first place and nodded shyly. Bradley finally understood and felt horrible for the things he had said about skating. Just because he had been discouraged from the sport didn’t mean he should have discouraged her too. “I’m so sorry, Diana.” And he meant it. “I- I didn’t mean any of the things I said earlier, I swear. You should keep skating; you’ll probably be so much better than I ever was.” He attempted to encourage her, hoping it wasn’t too late for that.

Diana just shrugged it off with a smile. “It’s fine, I get it now. Your big ego is kind of at an all-time low right now. I know you love skating.” Bradley’s face dropped and he gave her an unamused glare which made Diana dissolve into laughter.

“Gee, and here I was trying to make you feel better, and you tell me I have a big ego.” Diana cackled and fell into more laughter. The two spent the rest of the night chatting, and even having a little spa session before Bradley decided it was time for the two to go to bed. He left with a nice feeling and happy that he managed to grow closer with at least one of his siblings.

The next morning, he found out that his father had left early for some business. Clara seemed disheartened by it, but Bradley rather thought she should be used to it by now. Diana was very happy to see him and greeted him with a very tight one-sided hug which Brandon had no shame in joining. Bradley patted their heads and urged them to move along so everyone could open presents and they easily listened. Jacob sat in one of the armchairs while Clara sat between her other two kids, and Bradley took his spot at the second armchair. They spent the next few hours passing around the many gifts under the tree, opening them, Clara taking pictures, and chatting nicely and quietly.

Bradley felt kind of bad for the out-of-character gift he had given Diana. After some thinking he had the best idea for a new gift while Diana tried to cover her disappointment over all her subpar and out-of-character gifts. After the morning was over, and the trash was collected, Bradley stuck behind her for a second to let her know he had an even better gift waiting for her at his place back home. Diana brightened and Bradley talked to Clara about Diana visiting for a day during the weekend after the semester began. For the rest of the day Bradley was there he hung out with mostly, Diana and Brandon, besides mealtimes where he hung out with the rest of the family members who remained. Jacob soon left after lunch saying how he needed to get back to his fiancé! Bradley had no idea when that had happened, but it didn’t seem all too recent since no one else was surprised by the title.

By the time dinner ended, it was Bradley’s turn to leave, and he bid them all goodbye before driving himself all the way home. There he went straight to his closet and began to dig around, his idea for a gift fully forming and his excitement for his little project grew tenfold.

Chapter Text

Mrs. Coleman was incredibly happy to hear about how (for most of it) successful and positive his time was when visiting his family at their next session. Bradley spent the weeks approaching the spring semester in a stagnant routine of work, therapy, and getting school details up to date. Making sure he had everything he needed from his textbooks to his schedules to balance his tutoring, classes, and soon-to-be part-time coffee shop job.

Outside of the menial everyday tasks, Bradley has been working on a little side project that brought some excitement to his days. Said project being a very special gift for his stepsister, Diana, to make up for the clearly not well-thought-out gift he had gotten her. To be honest, Bradley couldn’t even recall what it was since he had gotten all his Christmas gifts months beforehand, and if he was being even more honest with himself, he never put much thought into the gifts in general. Now though, after their heart-to-heart and the fact that Diana had made him feel better after taking the time to confide in her (even if it was to make Diana feel better about how below average she felt compared to the rest of the Uppercrust’s), Bradley wanted to make sure this new gift clearly had some thought and effort put into it. He wanted to make sure that she knew how much of a good brother Bradley would try to be from here on out, but even more importantly: that Bradley supported her and her interests.

After confiding in the only other person that he could talk to now, Mrs. Coleman, and receiving great feedback on the idea and even more kudos on his progress, Bradley found himself feeling confident and good. It even drove away some of the crippling loneliness that seemed to engulf him at every waking moment since the beginning of the break. For once since the X-Games incident, Bradley was starting to feel good about himself and his life. Maybe life really wasn’t just about how perfect he had to be all the time, and how he had to be better than everyone at everything.

It was about a little over a week before classes were going to start and most of the students were returning from their holiday break to get situated back in, or mostly to party and have some time to hang out with friends before the workload came back. This meant that the campus and areas around the campus were starting to get busy and crowded once again, and while Bradley had managed to find an apartment and job that was a good enough distance from the university, even he could notice the change. Bradley mostly noticed this at his job though, and while he had tried to find somewhere that no one would really recognize him, he still could not escape it entirely. Bradley had a newfound hatred for college towns now.

He was getting a little too anxious, remembering the shame and rejection his peers had given him after the games. Even if they had not learned of his true actions, the rumors were enough to sink his entire reputation. His public opinion had hit an all-time low, and people had no problem with making sure he was aware of that, either out-right or just unintentionally. At the end of fall semester, Bradley had heard all the poor attempts at whispering the rumors, of what people thought of him to people just giving him dirty judgmental looks, and the Gammas making their displeasure of him known in very direct ways with spitballs, shoving/pushing, and nasty comments thrown his way. What was worse though, was Tank’s response which was a complete coldshoulder. Ever since the X-Games, Tank refused to even acknowledge Bradley’s existence besides telling him that he was kicked out. Other than that, nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a glance, a glare, insult, or even a shove. It was as if Bradley was completely irrelevant to Tank, and he was a ghost. If Bradley was honest to himself, he would admit that it hurt way more than anything anyone else had done, but Bradley was pretty good at repressing most of his more vulnerable emotions.

So, to say Bradley was ready for the break to be over, and for the semester to begin was a flat out lie. Bradley may have hated the isolation, mundane routine, and long boring days filled with nothing to do, but now faced with the consequences to come due to his actions? Bradley was constantly on edge. He felt as if all his hard work trying to rein in his temper was going to take a massive backslide. Perhaps he should have confided in his therapist about those feelings too… but oh well, too late now. He could do it during his next visit, which was in about two days from now.

In the meantime, Bradley had been busying himself with getting last minute stuff done. The perfectionist and overly fastidious (borderline obsessive) man had scheduled many meetings with his advisor, head of the math lab tutoring guy, and many other important school administrators and departments to make sure everything was in order and as perfect as it should be. The last thing Bradley ever wanted was for something to go wrong when it should have been taken care of, and even worse: to be caught off guard about it! Regardless, Bradley had a quick meeting with his advisor that day and he figured since he would already be on campus that he could stop by the skate shop on the way back to his apartment. Bradley packed his skating bag with his broken board in it, as well as some other things he needed to carry with him that day and set out for his day.

Bradley entered the skate shop, the door’s bell ringing aloud the store to make his presence known. He couldn’t help the anxious feeling crawling up the back of his neck, feeling out of his element. He hadn’t been back here in a while, and especially not after the tragedy that was the X-Games. Since this was the most popular store used by the students on campus, Bradley had no doubt that the store’s owners and employees had a vague idea of his new problematic social status. It was probably even worse within the skating community too. Bradley just hoped that they would at least hear him out long enough to explain why he had the nerve to show his face around here so soon. He had always been a decent customer to them at the very least, so maybe that would give him some extra wiggle room. Sure, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they turned him away, but he trusted these guys to make sure that they would get the job done, and get it done efficiently and diligently.

Bradley did his best to ignore the looks he gandered from some of the customers as he made his way to the counter. He went over and tried to keep a nonchalant air about him to overcompensate for the nerves that threatened his every move. Taking a deep breath, he waited at the help desk for a worker to notice him and come by. It took about five or six minutes of waiting until a worker deigned to grace him with their presence, and Bradley felt relief for about five seconds when he realized it was the owner, Carlos, before it was quickly replaced with dread at the judgmental and disapproving look on his face as he approached.

Maybe Bradley wouldn’t have the benefit of being a decent high paying customer to give him some grace. Which is fair, but ouch.

“Mr. Uppercrust. Fancy seeing you here.” Carlos was a big guy. Bradley had always thought that the guy’s appearance never matched his job. If Bradley hadn’t met him through the skate shop, he would have thought Carlos was a thug or gang boss. Bradley was probably just dramatic, but he talked about it with Tank once and even he agreed he could see Carlos being a crime lord. The guy was intimidating. He also had strong morals and a straightforward cutthroat attitude. He was always one to get down to business, find the easiest and best solution, and had no problem throwing out people who disrespected him or his employees. However, Carlos was also a pretty understanding and observant guy who seemed to have a lot of real-world wisdom. He could read people and pick and choose his battles. Bradley just hoped Carlos would be willing to give him a chance. It took a lot of nerves for Bradley to even get over his pride to open his closet and grab his broken board, let alone come to the store! Hopefully, Carlos could read into his soul and appreciate that. The guy respected guts and effort.

“It’s, uh, nice to see you, Carlos.” Bradley grimaced, trying for a smile, but failed miserably.

Carlos’ gaze just hardened. “So, what brings you here? If you’re looking for rocket boards, we’re fresh out.” Bradley paled at that and felt the heat crawl up his neck in resentment. Of course, Carlos would end up hearing the actual not unbelievable rumor. It probably came straight from Tank or Max’s big mouth.

Bradley took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment, before letting the comment slide off his back. He was getting better at the whole letting comments go thing. It was also easier to get past because he reminded himself that it was true, and he deserved it anyway.  “Yeah, um… not here for that.” He said dryly before taking his bag off and setting it on the counter, going to open it before pausing and giving Carlos a careful look. “Don’t worry, there’s no rockets or bombs in here. Just a broken board.” He joked flatly and was rewarded with no laughter. Just an unamused glare and silence. Tough crowd, I suppose.

Bradley unzipped his bag before taking the board out and coughed awkwardly into his fist. “Erm, anyway. I called ahead the other day to see if you guys took in broken boards for things like scrap or donation. The girl on the line said you guys did, and that it could possibly get you a discount on your next purchase here, so I wanted to donate this one since it still had a lot of parts in great condition. It’s just the board that’s broken.” Bradley explained, undeterred by Carlos’ lack of emotion or response. “That’s the first reason why I’m here, I suppose. The second reason is because I was wondering if you guys could take my order for making a custom board-“

Carlos cut him off with a disgruntled sound and a handout in front of Bradley’s face. He looked incredibly irked by Bradley’s audacity. “Thank you for the donation, but what makes you think you have the right to shop here after what you pulled?” His tone was harsh, and he leaned forward to reinforce his question.

Bradley felt himself shrink back. His first initial response was to get defensive, angry, and entitled, but he refrained from doing such. It would only make Carlos lose more respect for him, and it would throw away all the progress he was working towards. Besides, getting defensive, angry, and entitled had gotten him into this whole mess, so he figured it would not get him out of it. So, Bradley sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He thought back to some more advice Mrs. Coleman had given him after he had gone on a particularly bad rant where his progress had momentarily taken a pause.

“Bradley.” Mrs. Coleman cut through his angry shouting, her gaze making him freeze in his spot mid-pace. “Look, you can either continue blaming everyone for everything, or you can start owning up to your own actions. Wallowing in self-pity and riling yourself up will only get you so far, and it will just turn you into a sad lonely being. If you start taking accountability for your actions, I’m sure you’ll see just how much better your life will start going for you. Or at the very least, how much weight you’ll be lifting off your own shoulders. Didn’t you admit to me in the other session that apologizing to your stepsister made you feel better?” At Bradley’s silence she gave him a small smile. They both knew she had a point, and she had gotten through to him.

Bradley sucked in a breath before he gripped the strap of his bag tightly and steeled himself, meeting Carlos’ antagonizing glare with one of his own. “Look, I know what I did was shitty, but I can’t change the past. All I can do is try to change and move on right now, and whether you believe me or not is none of my business, but I am trying.” Bradley’s throat began to go dry at the admission. His nerves were buzzing around all over again and he felt like he was about to take off like one of his rockets. This was the first time he really felt like he was trying to prove himself about his change in character, and while he did believe it was none of his business if Carlos believed in his sincerity; Bradley did want Carlos to believe him. Because if Carlos could believe him then maybe Bradley wasn’t a lost cause. Maybe other people would believe him too.

“I may not have a right to be here in your eyes anymore, but I am a paying customer, and honestly I wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for my little sister.” Bradley didn’t even notice that he didn’t refer to Diana as his stepsister for the first time. “Not that it’s any of your business, but she’s really into skating. So much so that she’s going behind our parent’s backs and skating on an old and probably a big old safety hazard of a skateboard. I know you guys care about the quality of skateboards that you sell and get made, especially for bright eyed beginner skaters who show a lot of skill and promise.” Bradley huffed and continued to ramble, trying to spill it all out before the random confidence boost left him. “All I want is to get her an amazing skateboard, so she can pull off amazing tricks, and she doesn’t have to try and skate on an accident waiting to happen. She deserves an awesome skateboard for how cool of a person she is.” Bradley finished and noticed how white his hands had gotten from the death grip he had on his bag straps. He did not bother to let go though as he waited for Carlos to say something, anything.

“I would go get her some regular old board, but I wanted her first new official board to be special, and uh…” Bradley wilted, his confidence faltering majorly as he tried to get through the awkward silence. “I happen to like the boards I’ve gotten custom made from here… So, I figured I could get one… for her. From here too.” He finished lamely. Carlos only continued to stare before he walked into the back without a word.

Bradley watched, mouth agape, and floundering. Was he really so disgraceful that Carlos couldn’t even throw him out with a shout and ‘NEVER COME BACK’?? Bradley vowed to never stoop so low again as he glared at his broken board and began stuffing it back into the bag, packing up to leave. He felt so stupid for thinking he could have come here and gotten a second chance. He was a massive, colossal idiot. The dumbest being to walk the earth, truly. Just as Bradley was about to zip up his bag, Carlos came back out with an accusing look and raised brow. “I thought you said you were donating that board. You better not go back on your word, Mr. Uppercrust.”

Bradley looked up at him with a jolt and a searching look. Dumbfounded. “What?”

“You heard me,” Carlos dropped some papers onto the counter between them and leaned against it. “You fill these out, while I take the board you oh-so-kindly donated.” And with that he easily took the broken board out of the bag and left Bradley standing like a clueless idiot with the papers he had brought out. When Bradley finally stopped staring at the door Carlos had left through, he looked down and realized the papers were forms. Forms to fill out for a custom board.

Hope danced around in his chest as he found a smile working up on his face subconsciously. He felt a bit giddy, just like he did when he filled out his first own custom board. He made a mental note to one day take Diana to make her own custom board, but for now this one would be good enough. He thought that she would really admire a board made by her cool older brother, and he had enough skating knowledge to pick out the more technical aspects of the board. Until she had just as much knowledge, he would take the lead on this first board.

Bradley talked with Carlos for a bit about the details of the custom board. Budget wasn’t really a concern, Bradley didn’t care to use whatever money his father supplied him for this purchase, he could come up with an excuse if he was questioned about it. He just wanted to get the best of the best for the coolest person he knew right now. Carlos was still gruff and abrasive with him, but the more they talked about the design, Bradley’s ideas, goals, and reasons for the board, and Diana, Carlos seemed to ease up around him. Bradley also noted how surprised Carlos seemed to be with him here and there from his new attitude. Even calling it out at some point.

“May I just say, I’m kind of surprised with you, Mr. Uppercrust. When I first met you, I saw you as just every other privileged self-centered entitled rich boy, and I never thought I would see you change from that. Most of them don’t.” Carlos gave him a look of approval with his next words, “I’m glad I seem to be proven wrong. At least for now.” He added with narrowed eyes before laughing abrasively. Bradley laughed awkwardly, and dryly. He was more offended, but decided to just focus on the fact Carlos was accepting him again faster than he expected. It didn’t feel that out of character for Carlos though.

Carlos told him that he could fill out the form on his own time, but assured Bradley that if he kept up this new attitude, that his business would be welcomed here anytime. Bradley left the skate shop with his head held high and a slight pep in his step. The whole interaction ultimately gave him more confidence and it was nice to have someone who had known how much of a piece of shit he was before, somewhat support him. Even more though, he was just excited to keep working on his little project for Diana.

As Bradley walked back through the campus, staring at the forms and reading them over. Looking at all the available options for each of the parts, he had unintentionally let his guard down. Maybe if he had been paying more attention, or remained cautious then his day could have continued and ended without any problems, but alas, that was not the case.

Bradley was totally oblivious to the people who were moving towards the edge of the sidewalk. To the ooh’s and ahh’s that came from behind him. Oblivious to the faint rhythmic hum of wheels interrupted by the sharp crack of hitting small cracks in the sidewalk. He did register a small shout before he yelped, and his papers flew out of his hands and across the sidewalk around him. He nearly fell over but was caught by a hand gripping the back of his sweater, but nearly fell anyways as whoever had grabbed him, nearly fell over themselves. Bradley was quick to turn and hold onto the arm and stabilize the person, who fumbled to stop their skateboard, so that neither one of them would fall over when he realized who they even were.

“Goof?!”

“Brad?!”

They stared at each other, both surprised, before Bradley registered what he had been called, and who he was touching and glared. He let go of Max’s arm as if he had been burned and watched as Max was a little slower on the uptake, his grip still firm on Bradley’s sweater.

“It’s Bradley, freshman.” Bradley scoffed and swatted Max’s arm off him. “And watch where you’re skating!”

Max blinked before glaring at him and scooped up his board, taking the bait as he always did to bicker back with Bradley. His glare was quickly replaced with a smug look as he leaned on his board, “Sorry, Brad, didn’t see you there.”

Bradley rolled his eyes and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Oh, sure you didn’t. You and I both know you’re too good on a skateboard to not have noticed me.” He huffed and turned to quickly start picking up the scattered papers before the wind could start blowing them every which way.

Max watched him with an interested twinge in his eyes and an even more smug smirk, if that was even possible. “Hm, so you admit I’m good then?”

Bradley blinked and stood up straight fast to whip around and give Max a perplexed stare. “What?”

“You heard me.” Max grinned and stopped one of the last papers from blowing away by placing his board onto it and leaned forward towards Bradley. A teasing look in his eyes, “You think I’m a good skater.”

Bradley spluttered indignantly as his brain ran a mile a minute, trying to catch up with the words, and he quickly became embarrassed. Trying to backtrack and save himself, Bradley huffed and glared. “NO! Well- yes- I mean- You won the X-Games, obviously you must be decent! At least good enough to avoid pedestrians on the sidewalk!”

Max laughed lightly and raised a brow at Bradley, clearly pleased with how he was riling him up. “So, you do admit that I’m the better skater?” He bent down to pick up the paper from under his skateboard, giving it a nosy onceover.

“I never said that! Clearly you aren’t that good if you’re bumping into me!” Bradley sniped and snatched his paper back. “And quit looking at things that aren’t yours! Didn’t your father ever teach you some manners?” An ugly part of Bradley swirled into a deep spot of his core, trying to claw its way out. As if second nature, the next comment that flew out of his mouth was one he felt like he had no control over. “Oh, my mistake, that’s probably a lot to expect from such a goofy joke of a father!”

At that, all teasing and mirth was gone from Max’s features. Instead, it hardened into something that was just as mean as Bradley’s comment. “That’s rich coming from you, Brad. One would think after the shit you pulled that you'd have no right mouthing off to people anymore.” Bradley cringed and felt a spike of shame immediately stab at that ugly part of himself, making it shrink back into the depths of his soul. However, Max wasn’t done just yet. He leaned in, whispering just so only the two of them could hear, and that’s when Bradley became overly aware of the audience they had garnered. “You know, some would think that cheating was unrefined. Some might even say, disgraceful.” It felt like a slap to the face. Max was right, Bradley really didn’t have any room to talk. He gulped and stared down at the papers in his hands and all the fight that had been raging in him left as quickly as it came. He felt utterly degraded. Humiliated.

If Max was waiting for a comeback, he would be sorely disappointed. All Bradley could do was look away and back up, clutching on the forms with a death grip. He missed the way Max’s eyebrows furrowed and his demeanor shifted into confusion, expecting more bite back. Bradley had no energy left for this argument though, and all he wanted to do was go home and get an early rest for his long day of work tomorrow. He had spent too much energy bickering with his advisor and trying to work up the nerve to survive the skate shop. “Right.” He said stiffly and then turned, running with his tail between his legs.

Max watched him go completely dumbfounded, staring as if Bradley had grown two extra heads, and feeling a sliver of remorse for the harsh words he threw, knowing his verbal opponent was clearly outmatched.

Chapter Text

For the next few days Bradley spent his time wallowing, working, and neglecting his little project. He was far from being in the mood to look at the forms and put an effort into filling them out, so for now the papers sat in a folder in his messenger bag. Bradley’s attitude had also taken a drastic hit, and he regressed back into blowing up at anyone (the people at work) who annoyed him left and right. It was so bad that even Joseph had been giving him a wide berth and the regular morning customers who usually made his life a living hell just went in and out for their coffee.

When Bradley was in his apartment, he usually just went through the motions, and sure he might have been neglecting himself a little, but for some reason the mood of the apartment was just so drabby that Bradley couldn’t bring himself to do much. If he found the energy to even crawl out of bed for food, he usually just snacked or took a bathroom break while waiting for his microwavable tv dinner. When Bradley ran out of food, snacks, and drinks that weren’t water, he just grabbed whatever he could from his coffee job. Not caring if he had to pay for it or not. Bradley just didn’t want to take on the grocery store ever since all the students had come back, lest he run into someone who didn’t want to be reminded of his existence, nor did Bradley want to drive far away for groceries. Which left him spending quite a bit of money at his job, but that was money his father just funneled into his account. His father wouldn’t care about it being spent at any food establishments.

Finally, though, it was the day Bradley had been waiting for: therapy day! He had been itching to see Mrs. Coleman so that he could complain about certain annoying freshmen and even more infuriating situations. The sole reason for his setback.

“I just don’t get why he always knows how to get on my nerves. So. EASILY!” Bradley shouted and paced around the room without care, arms thrown out every which way as he complained. He had already caught Mrs. Coleman up with that entire draining day. From his advising appointment, to how successful the skate store visit had been, and then to the dreaded interaction. “I mean I was doing so well! I was calming myself down when I felt like blowing up! I held my tongue when customers called me an idiot for messing up an overly complicated order, or when Joseph would try to belittle me in front of everyone.” Bradley spun back around and nearly lost his balance with how fast he did, but he continued as if it was nothing because his nerves felt like they were blasting all around under his skin. “I even managed to not get mad at Carlos! I mean, okay, I could have been nicer to my advisor, but even then, I was nice enough for someone who’s basically incompetent with their only job!” Bradley griped and then shook his head as if to physically let it go, “But that’s besides the point!”

Mrs. Coleman just watched, a small sigh leaving her (not that Bradley noticed) as she waited for a good moment to interject his rant. “The point is: Why does Goof always get on my nerves?! I mean he barely spoke to me, and he managed to ruin all of my progress!” He covered his face with his hands and then let out a long string of angry indescribable sounds before just trying to catch his breath again.

Mrs. Coleman watched as Bradley just stood there, covering his face, and breathing fast, but trying to regulate it. “Are you feeling better now, Bradley?”

The latter let his arms fall and he flopped back into his seat dramatically. Crossing his arms, he gave Mrs. Coleman a nod but refused to say anything. She was used to Bradley just refusing to speak, so she decided to say what she needed to say.

“Now, while it can be disheartening to lose your progress, I want you to know that setbacks happen all of the time, so don’t be too hard on yourself. Besides that, though, you shouldn’t let any setbacks get to you as much as it has, Bradley. We’re going to work on not letting these setbacks set you into a funk, alright?” Mrs. Coleman wrote that down so she and Bradley could circle back around to that later. Bradley huffed and just gave her another begrudging nod. “Anyway, we can discuss that later. Right now, I want to talk to you about your relationship with Mr. Goof.”

At that, Bradley seemed to immediately perk back up. Suddenly, he had enough energy to include himself back into the conversation. “What? Relationship?!” Bradley’s face turned red, to Mrs. Coleman’s slight surprise and interest, before he laughed overly loud and slightly maniacal. “What- we- We do NOT have a relationship! I don’t know where you got that idea, but you are WAY off, Mrs. Coleman!”

The woman leveled Bradley with a very unimpressed look. “I use the word relationship as in your association with him. I never meant it in a personal way, Mr. Uppercrust.” She hummed and watched as Bradley’s already red face turned an even deeper shade of red. He didn’t even bother to say anything else since it seemed his big mouth and assumptions kept embarrassing himself. “Anyway,” She cleared her throat, “I can’t tell you exactly why Mr. Goof gets on your nerves so easily, only you can know that for sure, but from what you have told me I would guess that your ego around him has been damaged quite a lot because of him. So, every time you’re around him you are already on edge. Not only that, but in my opinion, it sounds like you have been trying to prove yourself to him. Either by trying to make him regret not joining your team, or just at this point to salvage your image in front of him, regardless, I think that you’re just tired of feeling embarrassed in front of him. Do those things sound like it could be the reason?”

Bradley let them sit in silence, just processing her analysis, and he hated to admit it, but honestly, she was on the nose again. Bradley did constantly feel embarrassed around Max, and after the latter rejected his offer to be part of the Gamma’s team, Bradley was beyond salty. He had been trying to prove to Max how awesome he was, and he wanted the freshman to regret rejecting him. Instead, Bradley just seemed to repeatedly humiliate and make a fool out of himself.

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.” He mumbled.

Mrs. Coleman nodded and wrote down some notes. “Now what I want to know is, why do you care so much about Mr. Goof’s opinion of you, Mr. Uppercrust?”

And that was the age-old question. Why did Bradley care so much? Bradley could always just pin it on the fact that he never really got shot down, or been told no from someone so irrelevant before, but was that really it? He remembered when he first saw Max skating down the street. How he felt so impressed by the skill and how easy skating seemed to come to him. Like it was easier than breathing. Bradley remembered how after the initial displeasure of a spilled drink, that interacting with Max was even more intriguing. Bradley had thought they could have gotten on well. Maybe not have been best friends, but something kind of close. At the very least, they could have become an awesome skating duo. Especially with all the tricks they knew! There was so much lost potential. Bradley sighed and moved to hold the throw pillow and play with any loose strings on it. Mrs. Coleman simply waited patiently until Bradley seemed ready to share his thoughts.

“I guess I just didn’t like being told no by someone who seemed below me.” Bradley settled on, not really wanting to delve any further from that. “And being so publicly rejected made it ten times worse. Of course I’m going to care.” They didn’t make that much progress with this topic after that. They did manage to get Bradley back on track though, and Mrs. Coleman gave him another paper and some notes on what he could do to keep himself from getting into a rut after backsliding.

Ultimately, Bradley did feel slightly more encouraged. He stopped by to get some groceries before going home, and luckily had no run-ins. Afterwards he went to work for a late-night shift and then crashed after doing his bedtime routine.

For the rest of the following week leading up to the first day of classes, Bradley began to work himself out of the rut he had been in. He learned that any downtime longer than two hours tended to make him feel down in the dumps. Therefore, he tried to spend most of his time working on getting ready for classes, doing errands, working extra shifts despite technically being part-time now, and trying to work on the gift for Diana.

Bradley also learned that apparently, he had a very… disturbing plotting face. He only found out about that at work when he decided to pull out the forms for the custom skateboard and got a little too eager to fill it out, laughing quietly to himself in the break room as he scribbled and circled things left and right. Reading up on all of the descriptions and options and bonus add-ons with a giddy feeling. Bradley was having a grand time until Joseph finally couldn’t take it anymore as he turned and exclaimed. “Look if you’re plotting to kill me you can just get it over with right now!”

Bradley immediately became confused before just rolling his eyes as if Joseph’s mere existence bothered him to his core. “What in the world are you talking about now, Joseph?”

His coworker was undeterred and pointed accusingly. “You’ve had this freaky look on your face ever since you pulled out those papers, and you keep giggling to yourself like some supervillain! If you’re gonna be plotting something evil at work, just wipe that creepy look off your face!” With that Joseph fled the breakroom to do some work and Bradley was left feeling sort of self-conscious and looking into a mirror as he tried to replicate his look from earlier. However, Bradley did not know what he looked like when he was in the zone and trying to enact a plan, so he just shrugged it off and continued about his day. If his plotting face kept Joseph from bugging him then was it really a bad thing?

Now, it was Bradley’s first day of classes. He had made sure his schedule for classes didn’t interfere with any of his free time or other business, and while he didn’t skate now, Bradley was glad he filled in that time with his therapy or else he would have had a hard time fitting it into his packed schedule. Now that he was finally starting classes, Bradley would have very little time available now that he had a side job and tutoring appointments. Today he had three classes to attend, so he made sure he had everything in his messenger bag and the room and building information for each.

He knew he had, at least, decent professors, after he had spent time last semester basically stalking their classes after receiving his options for the classes he wanted to take. So, Bradley knew they were at least competent enough, and the gossip he heard from their past students seemed trustworthy enough, at least he had done all this work before everyone decided to hate his guts.

He made sure to get up early so that he could find a good parking spot for his car and had time to get himself a very sweetened coffee from the café inside of the campus’ main building. He did his best to ignore the stares he gathered and hoped that there would be a bigger incident that happened just so the attention could completely fade from him. Ignoring the snippy attitude the student employee at the café gave him while he ordered, Bradley was having an okay morning. He just hoped that his business law class wouldn’t be that much of a bore.

He vaguely remembered the professor being someone who droned on and on. He didn’t seem to care about attendance (which is how Bradley managed to sneak into one of the classes), but the guy seemed to talk forever. He also had a very monotone voice which had only helped Bradley to start dozing off, but his past students had said he was an easy grader and didn’t pack on a workload compared to some other professors Bradley was stuck with this semester, so he figured the guy would be good enough.

When Bradley walked in, his heart stopped for a moment. The last class he had been in for the professor had been small, only consisting of about thirty people or so. This classroom, however, was huge! It could probably fit about one hundred people! Bradley felt his throat tighten and he began to get jittery from the nerves. It was just his first day and first class, and Bradley had to deal with a huge group of students?! Not to mention, the classroom was already decently filled by the time he walked in, and Bradley knew it was that barista’s fault. She had purposefully taken forever with making his coffee, and that was after the horrendously long line he had to wait through! Bradley took a deep breath before steeling himself and making his way down to the front seats.

He may be socially outcasted, but that just meant he had to focus on his academics more than ever. Nothing would hold him back this semester! As Bradley moved to the first row, he looked at the other students who were there. Most of them just seemed to be in their own worlds. If they spared him a glance, they either gave him a look as if begging for him to sit away from them (which to be fair, wasn’t all that strange for any college student) or glaring him down until he uncomfortably looked away from them. Those students had definitely heard of his new reputation.

Bradley finally decided on the aisle seat on the left side of the room.  The student closest to him was about three seats away, and she seemed to be completely absorbed in a book she was reading, so Bradley hoped that he would remain unbothered by her presence, and that she would continue to ignore him.

As he began unpacking things and organizing his stuff in front of him, Bradley took note of just how filled the classroom was becoming, and later realized that it wouldn’t have mattered if he sat right next to someone, as all the seats were being filled up! Bradley cringed when the girl who got stuck sitting next to him gave him a harsh glare and then proceeded to scoot her chair away, closer to her friend that sat next to her. Then they began loudly whispering to one another, not that Bradley cared to listen. He rolled his eyes and mocked her snotty attitude to himself before just hunching in on himself and scribbling scratches into the margin of his notebook. He would just throw that page out later since he did not want his notes looking ratchet.

Then, just about the worst thing that could happen, did. As if Bradley’s morning couldn’t get any worse, he heard a loud group of people enter from the back of the classroom, and as they got closer, Bradley’s ears perked up in recognition which was quickly followed by dread. Bradley hunched further into himself and heard the whispers around him grow louder, especially the two girls who sat next to him.

“Oh my gosh, it’s the guy who won the X-Games!” The girl’s friend whispered excitedly.

“Oh, I didn’t know he was taking this class! Aw, too bad we already have people sitting next to us, I told you we should have chosen seats in the middle!” The girl next to him huffed and even had the nerve to side eye Bradley again, as if their poor seat choices were his fault! Bradley had no shame glaring back before turning his attention back to his notebook. Maybe if he just kept his head down and stayed quiet, then they wouldn’t recognize him. Bradley figured it was more than just Max in the class since he had come in loudly, and clearly was laughing along with someone, probably his loser friends.

Then Bradley heard Tank too, and that just made the feeling of dread that had taken hold of him grow more. Bradley figured Tank would just continue ignoring his existence which, while it hurt a lot, would probably be the best for Bradley in the long run. Tank could get mean when he was bullying people, Bradley was well aware of that, so if Tank kept giving him the cold shoulder, at least Bradley wouldn’t have to constantly look over his shoulder. The downside was that if Tank took this class, that meant at least some of the other Gammas were probably taking it too. As Bradley thought back to last semester and signed up for spring classes, he recalled when Tank signed up with him. To be fair, they always shared classes if they had the opportunity too. A lot of the Gammas were business majors, or at least around that field or minoring in it, so a few of them were probably here too. As Bradley tried to listen more, he could pinpoint at least two other voices that were Gammas and grimaced. They most likely had no issue making his life hell if they noticed him in the class. Bradley just hoped it would take them about half the semester.

As the group seemed to split up and take whatever seats they had found, their professor finally decided to arrive and grace everyone with his presence. He was an older man, possibly close to retiring age, who had a huge mustache, bushy eyebrows, and a balding head. Bradley secretly judged the fact that the man clearly had no grooming routine, and dressed about as poorly but professionally as he could. At least he had a small workload and graded nicely, Bradley repeated in his head as the professor began his introductions.

It was about twenty minutes into the class when Mr. Stevens was going through the syllabus that he mentioned something very vital. Something that, had Bradley known about it beforehand, he would have dropped the class at the last minute for.

“Now the last, most important thing you all must know for this class is that we will be having a group project.” He began and immediately a collective groan went through the class, not that the professor seemed to hear or acknowledge. “It will be over whatever law or laws the group has found interesting over the semester, and you will have to present it. It will make up about ten percent of your grade, which is a letter grade, so I want you all to keep it in mind and start getting to know your classmates. In about a month or so I will be asking for you to choose amongst yourselves your groups, and the subject your presentation will be on. So, start thinking about it now. I will give you about a week, which will be two classes for us, to figure it out if you haven’t already. If anyone has trouble finding a group, or isn’t listed in any group, I will be assigning you to one myself.” His tone held no room for arguments and Bradley wanted to bang his head on a wall. This was basically the worst thing that could happen to him. Normally he would just partner with Tank and some Gammas, or just turn to whoever was closest to him if he knew no one in the class. Then he would basically do all the work himself.

The professor continued to ruin his life by adding. “I will also be having the group members anonymously grade the other members of the group, so that I can dock points individually if anyone slacks or refuses to contribute to the project. That way everyone puts at least some effort into it. How you choose to divide up the workload is up to you, however.” He coughed before taking a long sip of his coffee and then cleared his throat. “Lastly about this project, before you come and ask me: no, I will not allow anyone to work on their own. We have exactly one hundred students, and if anyone drops out then I will accommodate. I don’t care if I must add someone to a group which reminds me, groups can be from two people, to at most, four people! So, unless I approve of an extra person, do not add anyone else to your group after they have been finalized.”

With that, Mr. Stevens continued about the other syllabus information, but all Bradley could focus on was how screwed he was. Hopefully the girls next to him would find a different seat next class, maybe to sit next to that freshman, and his new desk neighbor would be someone who lived under a rock and was obsessed with getting an A. With his luck, he would get stuck with the worst people ever, Bradley thought glumly.

The professor, after about an hour of talking, finally finished reading his syllabus. He was even nice enough to let them leave early, even if there was only a mere twenty-minute left. Bradley began stuffing his things and the syllabus into his bag, and was ready to bolt on out of there, when his day just seemed to keep spiraling into a flaming hot mess. “Well look what the cat dragged in!” One of the Gamma’s sneered loudly.

Bradley was starting to wonder if he should just skip out the rest of his classes and hide in his apartment for the rest of his life. He gritted his teeth as he got stuck in the giant traffic jam of students trying to get out the small door and clutched his bag straps tightly. Maybe if he just stayed quiet and to himself then they would leave him alone?

“Oi, Bradley! I didn’t know you still went here!” One joked at him, “I figured after making that much of an embarrassment of yourself that you’d have changed names and moved across the country to some other school!”

Wishful thinking for sure. There was no way that the Gammas would just leave him alone. Bradley sighed and just tried to move forward with the crowd, on the verge of just pushing and shoving his way through.

“What? Too good for us to even talk to?!” The first one snapped and shoved Bradley into the person in front of him. Bradley immediately tried to back up and was internally dying when the person he had bumped into yelped and nearly fell over, if it wasn’t for his friends that had easily helped him.

That was when he noticed that the person he had been shoved into was one of Goof’s loser friends. The one who always wore green and kind of smelled like weed and cheese.  Now that Bradley was paying attention, he reeked of it right now too. The three turned around and leveled him with varying looks of annoyance. Just great.

The green one seemed more out of it, and easily just shrugged it off, turning his attention to nowhere in particular. The bigger one seemed more displeased by the events, but also taking in the whole situation. Bradley noted that he didn’t seem as surprised as his friends of Bradley’s existence in the class. Lastly, there was Max who seemed the most annoyed by his presence. Probably still sour from their last interaction, and Bradley couldn’t blame him since he was still sore from it too. He also took the initiative with the entire thing, “Watch it, Brad. Hasn’t your father taught you any manners?” He threw back in Bradley’s face, “You know it’s rude to shove people. Just wait for your turn to leave like the rest of us.”

In all fairness, Bradley knew it was justified to have his words thrown back in his face, but it wasn’t even his fault! “I didn’t-” He began, wanting to defend himself, but cut himself off with a defeated sigh. It wouldn’t matter in the long run. They wouldn’t believe him, and Bradley would just be wasting his breath by trying. Besides they probably wouldn’t care that the Gammas were the reason since they seemed so buddy-buddy now. Bradley decided to just bite his tongue and look at the floor, moving with the crowd. Luckily, they were all almost out of there. Then Bradley could just run away to his next class like the coward he was.

Max’s brows twisted in confusion at the lack of response, almost wanting to press before just scoffing and turning away. Bradley didn’t know what his problem was. Did he want Bradley to insult him?

The Gammas behind him snickered to themselves and Bradley had to deal with their pushing, shoving, and just overall annoying antics until it was finally their turn to funnel out the door. It also meant that every time he bumped or was nudged into the three in front of him, he received dirty looks. Eventually, they just opted to ignore him. Little mercies, Bradley thought. When he was finally able to leave, Bradley bolted out of there. Next time he was just going to wait for the crowd out in his seat instead of getting stuck in the middle of it like he had.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully, thank goodness. Bradley knew he had no energy or patience for anything else. The next day of classes was luckily the same and Bradley managed to make it to the end of the week. Since syllabus day only lasted for Monday and Tuesday and the classes had finally started up with actual work. This meant that Bradley had his first tutoring appointment already and was well onto his sixth one. Math tutors were usually one of the more requested ones, along with English tutors, but Bradley only focused on math subjects.

As Bradley waited in the library at three in the evening, laying claim to a nice quaint little table that was tucked away in a peaceful corner of the library, and it even had a cute little window. Bradley usually took this spot for studying, and before this semester, he would have never used it for tutoring, but the Math Lab closed early on Fridays, and Bradley refused to risk sitting in a very populated area of the library.

As he waited for whoever was his next tutee, he decided to get some of his work done. Most of the first-time students who had never really used the tutoring services before usually had no idea how to fill out the forms, so that left quite a bit of them with vague information for tutors to work with. Sometimes it left nothing but a time, place, and way to contact the person. Bradley had yet to contact them since he hated giving out his number to people, he was not incredibly close with them, so he figured going in blind would be just fine. All the people who requested his help were ones looking for math tutors with his knowledge, and on the off chance they had the wrong subject then Bradley would simply fill out a new tutoring form for them.

It wasn’t until he heard footsteps and someone groaned, “Oh not you!” Bradley looked up only to see Max Goof again, of all people! Bradley was sure that the universe was just playing a big old joke on him at this point. That, or Bradley literally had the worst luck of the century.

Chapter Text

Perhaps the universe was playing a sick evil prank on him. Maybe it was all a big silly prank for a reality tv show that his father put him on without warning for losing the games and embarrassing everyone on tv (however Bradley highly doubted that). Bradley was begging for this to just be a horrible nightmare and maybe he would wake up months before Max Goof even showed up, and Bradley would know what not to do because he turned out to be a seer, and he could avoid this whole mess. However, that was not the case, and unfortunately the universe did see him as a cosmic joke because no matter how much blinking Bradley did, Max Goof remained in front of him looking just as frustrated. 

“Um, hello??” Max waved his hand out in front of Bradley’s face, trying to gain his attention. “Look, I don’t like you either, but you could at least say something instead of just staring at me, Brad.” 

That definitely snapped him out of his internal crisis. 

Bradley groaned as he roughly rubbed his face and hair with his hands. “I was not staring at you, Goof. And do not call me Brad.” He glared and tried to make his tone as enforcing as possible. Not that it ever worked on Goof. 

As he already figured, Max just rolled his eyes and then sighed. “Yeah, I definitely don’t think this will work. Is there a way that you can set me up with some other math tutor for this same time and day?” 

Bradley couldn’t believe his ears. “What do I look like? I’m a tutor, not the desk lady.” He did not want to tutor Goof, but setting up appointments with other tutors was not in his job description. There was a whole process to do it yourself at any of the library computers, or with the Math Lab desk secretary lady, and last Bradley had checked that was certainly not him. 

Max huffed, equally as annoyed and his temper rising, and Bradley knew he should probably not test his luck or poke the bear, but despite all of his exercises and progress, he really believed that Max Goof would somehow always manage to get under his skin. Somehow, someway, it always happened. 

“Do you have to take everything so personally?” Max snapped, “Like seriously? I wasn’t even being rude to you, it was a simple harmless question.” 

Bradley was the one to roll his eyes this time, already beginning to pack up his bags seeing as he wouldn’t be giving a tutoring session in the near future. Instead of answering, he just ignored Goof because he was trying to exercise some restraint. Also he had nothing to say in response that wouldn’t be an insult or add fuel to the fire. 

“Oh, so now you’re just going to ignore me. Real mature, Brad.” Goof scoffed and muttered under his breath, “Unbelievable.” 

Bradley sighed and looked back at Max, hoping to convey some of the exhaustion that he was feeling. “What? What do you want me to say? Clearly you don’t want me to tutor you, and the feeling is definitely mutual, so all that’s left for us to do is just go our separate ways.” 

Goof stared at him for a while, his eyebrows twisting into confusion as he matched Bradley’s gaze. He would never admit it, but having Goof’s full and undivided attention like this was starting to make his face and neck grow hot. He felt the need to straighten his posture and wanted to tear his gaze away, so he did, and went back to packing up only a bit slower. His gut began to feel like it was coiling just as slowly, and Bradley could feel Goof’s stare the entire time. Bradley wondered if someone’s eyes could actually burn you because it was really starting to feel like it was possible. His frustration was starting to build back up with the staring nonsense, and realistically he knew Goof hadn’t been staring for probably more than a minute, but it definitely felt like it. Before he could blurt out an accusing “What?!” or something worse (like “do your eyes have magical superpowers that make people feel incredibly hot on the inside?) he was surprised by Goof’s next words. 

“You’ve been different this semester.” 

Bradley’s head snapped up to remeet his gaze, blinking in surprise all he could manage was a very undignified, “What?” He cringed at how higher pitched it sounded. Bradley was starting to reconsider not being an angry self-absorbed horrible person. At least he had never had a voice crack since middle school. Goof looked a little amused before his expression schooled again to something more intense and searching.

“You’re different. Sure, you’re still somewhat of an asshole, but you’ve been giving up pretty easily.” 

Bradley bristled and was quick to glare up at him. What was Goof a psychologist now? Well, for all he cared the guy could go practice his perceptive and psycho-analyzing skills on someone else. Literally, anyone else. 

“I don’t know what you mean. I think you’ve hit your head too hard, or maybe you were dropped too many times as a child.” Bradley sniped.

Max didn’t entertain him though. “Fine, don’t admit it, but it’s been pretty obvious.” He shrugged and continued. 

“Fine. If it were true, which it’s not,” Because Bradley was nothing if not contrary even if he was wrong, “Why do you even care?” 

Goof paused before giving him another shrug. Sure, Bradley gets shit for flat out ignoring him, but Goof gets to shrug and avoid answering his questions all he wants. That definitely seems fair to Bradley (not). “Was it losing the X-Games? Does not being first place really hurt your ego that much?” His tone just the slightest bit judgemental. 

And just like that Bradley felt like he’d been struck. A little bit in the ego, but also because Goof thought of him as that shallow. That also made him confused because why does he even care what Goof thinks of him. Bradley was well aware that he hated his guts, and he’s never given Goof a reason to think differently of him, but it still hurt. Maybe it was because Bradley was actually working on improving himself, and was beginning to feel like he was making progress and was being a better person. It could also be that it wasn’t just losing that Bradley hated and had knocked him down a peg, but it was everything that came with not only losing, but how poorly he behaved just to lose anyway. Everything he had lost, and all of the blows he had taken as a consequence of the X-Games. Staring a little lost and forlorn, he just sighed and felt like all of the anger had just seeped out of him. He couldn’t wait for his next therapy meeting after the week he had. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just go with that.” Bradley snipped and finished packing up his things. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve had a long day of tutoring people and I’d rather not waste my newfound downtime arguing with you.” He stood and began to walk past Goof but was stopped by him shifting to be slightly in front of Bradley, making him stop. 

“For what it's worth, defeat doesn’t really suit you.” Goof said and as Bradley stared into his eyes, now stunned to silence and trying to process the words, the indifferent demeanor that Goof carried began to shy away into something shier and unsure. They both averted their eyes, equally embarrassed for different reasons before Bradley quickly brushed past him and made a quick getaway. 

It wasn’t until he had left the library building entirely that Bradley realized he’d been holding his breath and welcomed the headrush as he breathed in the outside air. 

The rest of his weekend went by uneventfully, Bradley went to work for most of it and spent the rest of his time on Diana’s project or planning ahead all of his free time for the next month and a half between doing school work and tutoring people. When Monday finally rolled around, he was already dreading and dreaming of just ditching the class, but knew he never would and crawled in early to avoid getting his seat stolen. He was not going to risk being forced out of the front row, and even worse sitting near any of the Gammas or Goof and his friends. He spent the time that it took for the class to lazily roll in and the professor to appear by going over his schedules. He already had some people requesting tutoring sessions this week for some assignments and refresh themselves on material they may need for their math classes. 

As the students trickled in, he was unsurprised to hear the Gammas when they arrived. Luckily, they still didn’t seem to spot his seat in the class, and took the little mercy the universe had given him. He knew that it wouldn’t take long for them to spot him eventually, but he would gratefully enjoy the peace while it lasted. He also heard when Goof and his friends came in, however he missed how the former quieted down as they continued to make their way to their previous seats. Bradley was unsurprised to hear the girls that had been sitting next to him arrive late, and then complain that they missed their chance to sit closer to Goof. 

“Aw man! Laurie, I told you we should have just skipped getting our drinks!” The girl who sat closest to him whined. “Now we have to sit here still.” She sounded really put out by this, but Bradley tried not to take it too personally. Which only subconsciously reminded him of his last interaction with Goof which made him annoyed anyway. 

“Ugh, fine. If we’re running late on Wednesday we can skip the line then. However, I really needed this coffee.” Laurie stated and sipped loudly from her drink. “Also, if you didn’t order something super ridiculously complicated we probably would’ve been able to leave sooner.” 

The girl next to him gasped, and the two continued to bicker until the professor arrived and began the class. Bradley was immensely grateful since their voices were beginning to grate on his ears and nerves. Bradley continued to take exquisite notes, and was sure to handle the assignment that was passed around easily, and before he knew it the class was over and he was beginning to feel a bit better. That was until the professor reminded them of the project.

“And remember, those of you who are more quiet and solitary, you should definitely start getting to learn at least the people around you for the project! We have about a month until you get to choose your group members and begin the project!” Professor Stevens nodded and began packing up, but had yet to leave in case any students had questions to ask him. Bradley took his time, definitely not planning on bolting like last time, and waited patiently in his seat. He guessed the Gammas were feeling nice today, or that they still hadn’t seen him because they never came to bully him out of the class. It wasn’t until the classroom was fairly empty that Bradley began putting away the homework that he had gotten halfway finished since it had been passed out. The girls next to him were long gone, and so when he saw someone appear on his side he simply assumed that one of them had come back to retrieve an item that they forgot. 

The looming figure stood, even when Bradley pushed his chair in to let them pass, and eventually cleared their throat. That was when he realized they were not one of the girls, and in fact not a female at all. Bradley looked up, startled to see Goof. “Oh. It’s you.” He said simply.

Goof sighed and shoved one hand into his pocket while the other tightly gripped his backpack strap. He nodded, staring at Bradley’s stuff on the desk, “Yup.” He popped the ‘p’, “It’s me.”  

Bradley was unsure of where to go from here. He never expected Goof to approach him, and let alone have the interaction start off awkward and cordial. His eye twitched a little as he waited for Goof to say literally anything until his patience ran out, “So is there a reason you’re here to talk to me?” He glanced around and noticed that the room was empty, even the professor had gone. It was just the two of them. Bradley felt like the oxygen was also deciding to leave the room too. 

Goof let out a long sigh and then held his hand up. “Alright, just- just give me a second before I even get to it, can I just ask that you won’t be rude, antagonistic, and condescending?” Goof squinted his eyes as if it pained him to say the next words, “And I’ll try not to be rude and antagonistic as well.” 

Bradley squinted back, unsure, but eventually he hesitantly nodded. “Fine. Now what do you want?” Goof gave him an unimpressed look. “What? What did I say? I wasn’t being rude!” His tone raised indignantly. Goof let out a little chuckle before shaking his head. 

“Yeah, yeah.”  Bradley couldn’t help the pout that reached his features because he really wasn’t being rude. He just wanted to get to the point of this whole interaction especially since he was definitely going to be running late to class by now. Goof continued, “Anyway, so I went to the Math Lab after our lack of tutoring to try and find someone else for that time and day, but there wasn’t anyone who would tutor that late, and I really didn’t want to find another time for it.” Goof sucked in a breath. “She also mentioned how you were one of the best math tutors, especially since you have apparently taken the math class that I have to take with the professor that I have, so you would have material and knowledge from the past- anyway I’m rambling, but I was wondering if…” Goof paused and himself took in another breath after his fast speech and looked Bradley right in the eyes. The intensity of it felt like he’d been punched in the gut, all of his breath leaving him. “...If you could tutor me. Please.” 

Bradley wondered why his life had to be as difficult as it was with all of the curveballs it kept throwing him. “You… want me… to tutor you?” Goof nodded, gripping his backpack strap even tighter (if that was any possible). “Even after you were the one who stated that this definitely wouldn’t work out?” Goof’s jaw clenched and worked itself before he spoke again. 

“Yeah, I know what I said, but I would really… appreciate it… if you could tutor me.” Goof was beginning to get antsy with the way he was shifting from foot to foot and glancing all around. “Look if you don’t want to just say so, and I’ll try to go find another time or something I guess, but could you stop torturing me-” He was cut off by Bradley chuckling to himself. He couldn’t help it. Bradley pondered if he was finally cracking. Goof’s shoulders squared as he glared at him in anger, “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to be rude! Could you not laugh-” 

“Fine. I’ll tutor you, Goof.” Bradley shook his head and quickly packed his things away. “Meet me in the same spot as last time in the library. Same time, don’t be late.” He situated his bag on his person and nodded to Goof as he passed him by. “Now I really must be going, and thank you for making me late to my next class. If you need me before Friday, I’d prefer if you used the contact information that I know the Math Lab has given you instead of taking up my walking time.” 

Goof blinked, slowly nodding and Bradley felt a little proud of how speechless he had made him before he turned and began quickly making his way to his next class. He wasn’t joking about being late after all. 

The rest of his week went by just as uneventful as his weekend had. Bradley was getting accustomed to his schedule and juggling everything. Work was a pleasant distraction that seemed to take up the time he would have spent leading the Gammas, it almost made up for it. Almost. Bradley missed setting up events, fundraisers, parties, and more. He hadn’t realized how much running the Gamma house had been like a job, but oh well. He no longer had to worry about it, and a small part of him hoped that Tank would cave under all of the work and pressure and beg Bradley to come back to at least handle all of the responsibilities. It would definitely make his ruse to his father a lot easier if he lived in the house and handled the business, even if none of the members liked him ever again. 

Tutoring was typically peaceful, and since he was getting better with his patience it was easier than the previous semesters he had spent tutoring. Especially with the tutees that were new to him. However, some of his tutees clearly only stuck with him because they were used to Bradley’s tutoring methods, and knew he was great at what he was doing because some of the judgement, glares, and bad attitude were still directed at him with some of his fellow students. However, Bradley pushed on and hoped that eventually they would calm down. If anything he was more worried about how badly Friday’s tutoring session with Goof would go down. Every time he began to grow nervous about it, he just redirected his attention to the work in front of them and tried to push it to the back of his mind. 

By the time he made it to his therapy session Bradley felt like his emotions had been wrung out. He said as much to Mrs. Coleman. “I just don’t understand why he would rather get me to tutor him than just move the tutoring to another day or time! It’s weird, right? I’m not the only one who finds it weird, right? Please tell me you find it weird.” 

Mrs. Coleman hummed to herself before speaking, twiddling the pen in her hand. “I suppose it could be considered weird out of place behavior, but it also makes a lot of sense if that’s the only time he could spare for tutoring. I mean you aren’t moving your schedule around for just anyone right?” 

Bradley nodded in agreement. “Of course not. My Friday tutoring is perfect how it is. And my other days are too busy with classes and work for me to want to spend anymore time tutoring a lot of people. Besides, I have to make sure I can get my work done the same day it’s assigned or else it will all start piling up, and then I could get behind, and then I could fail!” Bradley huffed before pausing and then sighing. “Alright fine, so maybe Goof not wanting to find a different tutoring time isn’t too weird, but it certainly caught me off guard.” 

Mrs. Coleman nodded and she looked at her notes before saying, “I am proud of how your last interaction went. Especially after hearing how the library one had gone. You’re exercising your restraint very well, Bradley.” And he preened under the praise. At least someone was acknowledging his progress! “However, I do want to ask you about that one comment Mr. Goof made. You briefly mentioned how his comment of your ego being damaged by the X-Games hurt your feelings. Why is that?”

Bradley paused and took some time to sip his tea. He had a mug that said ‘every day is a fresh start’ with cute elegant flowers decorating it this time. When he was done sipping and Mrs. Coleman’s patient eyes kept boring into his soul he huffed, setting the mug down. “First of all, he did not hurt my feelings! It was just a little bruised…” At her slightly raised eyebrow he sighed and gave in, “Fine. It did hurt my feelings. I just don’t understand why! I never cared what Goof thought of me, and for some reason I do now!” At that, Mrs. Coleman’s eyebrow raised even higher and Bradley felt like he’d said something wrong this time. He did not know what was wrong though. He was beginning to think that this happened a lot, him not knowing what of what he said was causing so many people’s eyebrows to raise judgingly at him. 

“Bradley. Would you say that you cared for Mr. Goof’s answer when you initially requested he be a part of the Gammas and your X-Games team?” 

Bradley thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “I suppose.”

“So it would be safe to say that you cared about when he turned you down, and then showed a clear dislike for your character?”

Bradley nodded again, not sure but also not liking where this analysis was going. 

“So it would be safe to say that you have been upset about Mr. Goof not liking you, correct?” 

“Well- yes. That is correct.” 

“So this isn’t a recent development. You caring about Mr. Goof’s opinion on you.” She stated simply. Bradley’s eye twitched as he processed this and then he went back to sipping his tea. “I think if you care this much about his opinion, then these tutoring sessions may be a good way of helping him see your progress of wanting to be better. Not only that, but Mr. Goof is someone that you wronged, and this would be a great way at making amends! It may help you more than you think, and I’m sure you two could actually get along. After all, you two were getting along before you shot down his friends from joining the Gammas.” 

Bradley took this information in and was surprised by the little bit of hope he was beginning to feel for the tutoring session. This situation actually could benefit him! He may not become friends with Goof, but maybe they could become cordial, and if they became cordial then people might stop treating him like he was gum on the bottom of their shoe. It may get him an opening to make amends with Tank and the other Gammas too since they seemed to all be getting along really well. Also, a small bit of him did want Goof to see and recognize his change of heart, not that he’d ever admit that with more than a spare passing thought. The hope and excitement was soon doused by his anxiety though. The pressure crushed his positive feelings all too easily. 

“Well this is just great. Now I have to make sure that I don’t piss him off!” Bradley began his rant and stood up abruptly to pace behind the chair he had been sitting in. “I have to make sure that I’m more than accommodating, and an incredibly amazing tutor especially since he’s heard such great things about my tutoring! Not only that but he could probably insult me the entire hour, and I’ll just have to sit there and take it because I can’t be mean right back, or else he’ll just continue to hate me! And if he continues to hate me then we’ll never be cordial, and if we’re never cordial then I’ll never make significant progress or amends, and if I don’t do that then I guess I’ll just be a hopeless case-” 

“Bradley! Please calm down, try to take a few deep breaths for me.” Mrs. Coleman worked on some breathing techniques with him for a few minutes and eventually Bradley was sitting back down, mostly calm aside from his bouncing leg. “Catastrophizing won’t help you or help you tutor Mr. Goof. You should focus on the things that you can control, like the lesson plan you made, or how you’re going to maintain your composure if Mr. Goof does manage to push your buttons. Focus on what you can do now and in the moment instead of the limitless possibilities.” She waited for Bradley to nod before continuing, “Also don’t worry about the consequences of tutoring Mr. Goof. As his tutor you should be focusing on getting him to pass his class, and progress his math skills. If anything else were to come from the tutoring, such as becoming friends or making amends, then so be it. However, your intentions should be genuine instead of self-serving.”

Bradley sighed and slumped into the couch. “Right. You’re very correct. I just- I guess I got a little excited, I don’t know.” Mrs. Coleman looked at him with interest, urging him to continue with a hand gesture. “I just realized how important this could be for me! I suppose I got a little carried away, and then ended up just making my nerves worse, but you’re completely correct. I need to just focus on tutoring Goof for now, and just make sure he isn’t a lost cause in mathematics. I can’t work miracles you know.” 

Mrs. Coleman laughed and nodded. “Of course not, that’s more my job, isn’t it?” She joked which surprised a laugh out of Bradley. 

“Are you saying I’m a lost cause turned miracle?” 

“Of course not! That would be beyond unprofessional of me to say.” 

“Hm… fine, I’ll let you off the hook just this once.” 

“How generous of you.” She joked sarcastically, but she was smiling and continued with the rest of their meeting. 

Bradley was beyond tired by the time his last tutoring session rolled around, and he couldn’t tell if that was worse or not. On one hand, his patience would probably be run through a lot faster, but on the other hand he could be too exhausted to entertain any quarrels. It really was a fifty fifty, all dependent on whatever reaction Goof managed to bring out of him this time. As long as it was not embarrassing or progress reducing, Bradley couldn’t find himself to care… Okay, that was a lie. He cared. A lot. However, there wasn’t much to do besides aggressively and repetitively organize all of his things.

“Why, hello Brad. Fancy seeing you here.” Goof joked as he dumped his bag onto the table, startling Bradley out of his homework. What? He needed something to do to pass the time in between tutoring sessions. 

“Um, hello Goof.” He managed through gritted teeth, refraining from correcting him. He could try and get used to being called Brad. That may take a miracle too though. 

There was an awkward silence as Goof got comfortable and then got his things out. Bradley just watched and waited, eventually spacing out until Goof was waving his hand around and in his face. “Helloooo? Hello? Earth to Bradley! Please join us back down here, we are in dire need of some math help.” Bradley blinked and then shooed Goof’s hand out of his face.

“Stop that. Sorry, it's been a long day for me.” He rubbed his eyes and pulled his book, old notes, and a folder of old worksheets out. “So, you have Mrs. Whittaker’s college algebra class, is that correct?” 

Goof peered forward to take a look at all the stuff before whistling and nodded. “Yeah. Wow, so you really did have her class, huh?” 

“Yes, I did. Isn’t that what the desk lady told you?” 

Goof rolled his eyes before shrugging and leaning back in his chair. Bradley watched unamused and wondered if he would fall over. “Well, yeah. I just didn’t realize you would actually still keep everything, though. That’s a thick pile of notes and worksheets you have there.” 

Bradley looked at him in confusion and pulled his notes closer to him, as if offended on their behalf and protecting them from Goof’s judgement. “What? What’s wrong with wanting to keep work and good information from past courses?” 

“Seems a bit weird. Also it would take up a lot of space. Most people would consider this garbage.” 

Bradley huffed, turning his nose up a bit. “Well, most people are wasting money by throwing away hundred dollar textbooks that they bought with their own money, and most people are wasting the great information they gained from great professors like Mrs. Whittaker. I don’t want to be like most people, I actually engage with the material and would like something to refresh my memory on the off chance I forget it.” 

Goof stared at him for a moment, but it was long enough that heat crept up onto his cheeks from embarrassment due to his mini rant. “I guess that’s true.” He said finally. “And you’re definitely not like most people, so I wouldn’t worry about that.” He joked and when he leaned forward in his chair it let a small bang when it connected with the ground. Goof leaned all the way forward, his arms crossed and propped up on the table. 

Bradley sniffed and began looking through his notes and worksheets. “Exactly. Besides, all of the things here are going to help you pass this class, so you shouldn’t be judging them.” 

Goof gave him a funny smile before sighing. “I guess. So, where do we start?” 

Bradley hummed and looked at the stuff Goof had ready when he noticed there was no textbook. “Where’s your textbook?” He watched as the other froze and then sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, his head bowed. 

“Uhh, so about that… I kind of… don’t have my textbook.” He grinned, but it was definitely awkward and forced. Bradley’s face was completely unamused. Goof continued, “I waited too long to buy it, and then before I knew it all the cheaper options were all run out! And now I have none.” He groaned and slumped forward onto the table. 

Bradley decided to take him out of his misery. “That’s fine. Just take my textbook.” He pushed it over so that it sat in the middle of the table between them. Goof looked at him so surprised, Bradley would have thought he had offered him something odd, like a casserole or something. Bradley wasn’t too creative to think of something truly odd to hand over during a tutoring session. 

“What? Really?” 

“Well, of course. You need a textbook, mine is in great condition and filled with plenty of important annotations, and I highlighted all of the important information needed for the class. We can use it during our tutoring sessions, but I think it would be more handy for you to have it during your class and so you can read the material before we meet up. It would be infinitely harder if you have no chance to read and understand the material ever, so it’s yours for the semester. I do expect it back, and in perfect condition.” Bradley added the last bit with a very intimidating glare but otherwise was ready to move on. Goof on the other hand, was not and just stared at him with bewilderment and his mouth slightly open like a dufus. “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies. Now we really should get started. I need to see what you are working on, and I need to assess where you’re at without the material. That way I can focus on the areas you need the most help at instead of wasting both of our time on stuff you already know.” 

Goof nodded quickly and before they knew it the session had blown by incredibly fast. Bradley was looking over the mock up quiz he had made and was finished marking it. Meanwhile, Goof was just waiting looking somewhat patient but also nervous. For what, Bradley had no clue. “So, you definitely need some help, that’s for sure.” Goof deflated at that and rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, that’s why I wanted tutoring.” 

Bradley hummed, “Yes. I can see why. I do think you’ll be able to make easy progress, though. We just need to get you to work on remembering your formulas, and applying strategies to figuring out your equations. Your solving shows potential outside of the minor errors, but that can be easily fixed by just showing you how to properly organize your work. It’s no wonder you can’t remember what has a negative sign or what numbers were where when it all looks like it’s been thrown around the page.” 

Goof, while looking annoyed by the criticism, did at least hear it out before he responded. “Are you done? I get it, my handwriting sucks and my memory is crap. What do I do about it?” 

Bradley sighed and set it down, leveling with him. “Look, these errors can be fixed in a night, but they also can’t. It takes practice and constant reminders, even once overs before you turn it in, just to make sure everything is correct. I can help you with all of that, besides fixing your handwriting. Do you have any of the homework with you?” Goof nodded and handed it over. “Alright great!” Bradley got up, moved his chair around the table, and then sat back down. “Look, I’ll work through my solving process on the first equation, does that sound good?” 

Goof stared at him, and it was then that Bradley realized how close they were, but he pushed that thought very far away. Rationalizing the closeness with ‘I need him to follow along with me, and he can’t do that if we’re sitting across from each other.’ “Yup! Yeah, that uh- that sounds great. So, first problem.” 

“So we have the equation: (3x2+6x+8)+(9x2+7x-5). Now I know you can solve this, but right now I just want to get you to find a good way to organize your work so you don’t get lost in it, okay?” He looked up from his pointing to see if Goof was still with him and was pleasantly surprised to find that he was very much engaged. 

“Yeah, so how would you recommend me organizing it? Because just trying to solve it all together apparently isn’t working.” 

Bradley nodded and reached over the table to grab at his bag before grabbing some highlighters and different colored pens. When he sat back in his seat properly and pulled his sweater back down he noticed Goof’s face was a little pink but ignored it. “Well one option is color coding. We know that -5 and 8 are going to be put together, so I’ll use my blue pen to underline those two, my pink pen for 7x and 6x, and so on. Make sure none of the colors are similar though. This may take longer, but it will definitely help you separate the numbers that correlate with one another. You can also use highlighters instead of pens, choice is up to you.” 

Goof nodded along and then asked, “Do you use this method?” 

Bradley shook his head, “I prefer rewriting the equation and spacing it all out, and then working through it. Like this,” Then he began to work through the problem, briefly talking it through, and then finished it and circled his answer, and then highlighting it with his yellow marker. 

“Wow. I’ve never seen math so perfectly organized. It’s like the paper had grid lines that only you could see on it.” 

Bradley smiled, proud of himself, before bringing out a scratch notebook. “If it helps you can always staple scratch paper to show your work instead. I promise Mrs. Whittaker would still take it. Just as long as you number the questions and make sure to highlight your answer on the scratch page, and copy the answer onto the homework sheet.” Goof took the ripped out blank notebook paper and held it gingerly in his hands. “I find that the lines also help keep my math work organized.”

Goof nodded and smiled, “You know, you’re pretty helpful, Brad.” 

The latter grimaced and then shook his head, “Look if I’m going to help tutor you then you have to call me Bradley.” 

Goof took a moment to think about this before he smirked, which was worrying enough, but then he had the nerve to lean in closer as if they weren’t already close enough. “Fine, I’ll agree to that, but…” He trailed off, keeping the suspense. 

And Bradley thought that he was dramatic! He gulped and leaned slightly back, but it did nothing to stop the heat creeping up the back of his neck and his palms growing sweaty. What in the world was Goof doing to him?! “But?” He asked, but his tone was nowhere near impatient. Instead he sounded nervous! Would the humiliation never end??

“But,” Goof began and then spoke a bit lower, forcing Bradley to lean just a bit closer again. Yes, that was definitely the reason. Bradley wasn’t at all captivated by whatever evil plan goof had in the making with his close proximity and torturous pauses, “You have to call me Max instead of Goof, or anything else you’ve called me in the past.” 

Bradley was without really anything to say because he couldn’t come up with anything. Was lack of brain cells contagious? Eventually, all he managed was a choked out, “Deal.” Goof finally leaned back out of his space, letting Bradley breathe again, and the tutoring session continued without a hitch. Not that there was a lot of time left, but still. When they were packing up and ready to leave, they silently walked together to the exit of the library which was only just slightly awkward. When they reached outside the sun was beginning to set and Bradley was just ready to go back to his apartment and comfy bed. He needed sleep, homework be damned, he had the weekend for it. 

“Well uh, guess I’ll see you around Bradley?” Goof- Max tried and got his skateboard ready to head out. Bradley was surprised he never noticed it until now. 

“See you next Monday in class.” Bradley corrected and then began walking off. He missed seeing Max watch him until Bradley turned the corner to one of the student parking lots to get to his car.

Chapter Text

Bradley was right to assume that his luck with the Gammas would run out soon. For as much as they were easy to convince into cheating and other such nonsense, they weren’t an incredibly stupid lot. If they were truly that stupid then it would have reflected poorly on the fraternity, they probably would have been failing classes and wouldn’t have even qualified to stay in the Gammas! Like most of the other sorority and fraternity houses, they had to maintain a certain overall GPA to remain as a member. So, Bradley knew that his seat would have been noticed sooner rather than later, but he at least hoped that being so close to the professor would prevent anything from happening. 

Unfortunately that was not the case as a third paper ball hit him in the side of his head from across the classroom. Professor Stevens was currently facing and speaking to the blackboard writing down things about sources and types of law affecting business. Not that Bradley could fully pay any attention, but he dutifully copied down the notes as he did his best to ignore the paper balls and snickering. The few times Professor Stevens had turned around, Bradley was at least granted a small reprieve from the taunts. However, it was usually to ask questions and while Bradley and two other students always answered them, it didn’t keep the professor turned around long enough before it started back up again. 

Bradley’s patience was incredibly thin by the end of class, especially after the disgusting spitball that landed on his cheek (seriously, EW). He was planning what would be better: booking it out of the class immediately and risk getting stuck again, or lagging behind and risk them coming over to bully him. He was leaning more towards booking it, and was almost packed up completely by the time the Professor officially deemed the class over, but his efforts appeared to be futile as the Gammas had already come to ensure his day was definitely ruined beyond repair. 

“Why’re you in such a hurry, Brad?” One of the Gammas shoved him back down into his seat when he went to stand while the others blocked the way out of the aisle. The girls next to him looked both annoyed, but also wary as they huffed. Giving Bradley an accusatory glare, they turned and waited to go the longer way out of the aisle. 

“Yeah, what’s the rush?” Another sneered, Bradley didn’t recognize him so he assumed that the Gamma was a new recruit. Bradley glared at them before securing his bag onto his shoulder. 

“I have a class to get to, not that you guys actually care.” Bradley sneered and made to stand up again, “Now if you’ll excuse me, some of us actually like to arrive early to their classes-” He let out an off as the new Gamma shoved him back down into his seat more roughly than before. 

“Nah, I think you can stay to have a chat real quick.” The third gamma there grumbled and cracked his knuckles threateningly. Bradley highly doubted they were actually going to beat him up in a classroom, but his nerves still made him look around worriedly. The Professor was currently busy dealing with a small crowd of students, Tank seemed to have left the Gammas to their bidding, and Bradley watched as his classmates were already leaving him behind to get to their own schedules. Great, just great!

The three laughed, probably enjoying the worried look on Bradley’s face. As Bradley kept glancing around the classroom his eyes danced across a red shirt before his attention was drawn back to the Gammas in front of him, “You know we can’t participate in any sports for at least two semesters thanks to your little stunt.” They all glared at him with a lot of resentment in their eyes. Bradley assumed putting all of the blame onto him helped their anger go somewhere despite the fact they all had always been up to bullying other students and people, and cheating was never something the other Gammas were unused to doing (they just had to be very subtle and under the radar about it). He could have pointed it out, but Bradley knew it would only make them more upset anyway. Plus, he was working on being the bigger person lately. This was a great time to try and practice. 

Bradley barely registered someone saying, “Hey, you guys go on ahead of me. I’ll catch up soon.” As the Gammas continued to corner him into his desk and chair and one even had the gall to grab him by the sweater collar. 

“What? Got nothing to say to that?” 

“Hey, Bradley!” Max shouted, surprising the Gammas enough that the one holding his crewneck let go. He gave the Gammas a slightly judgemental look before turning his attention back to Bradley, who was immensely confused. Was Goof planning on joining in or helping? “Hey, guys, do you mind if I steal Bradley for a moment?” 

The three looked between one another, unsure and also incredibly confused before just shrugging. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” One said and motioned for the other two to get going with him. 

“You got let off easy this time, Uppercrust.” Another sneered before they all left the classroom. 

Bradley watched them go and let his eyes shut, and his breathing to even back out. He honestly thought he was going to get hit despite being in a classroom, but thank goodness he never found out what would have happened. He sat there just trying to regain his bearings until he was reminded that Max Goof was apparently still there, “Bradley? Are you alright?” When he opened his eyes again it was to see Max actually looking at him with concern. 

Shocked enough by the Goof not only stepping in to help, but also from the concern, Bradley bristled and immediately went defensive. “Yeah! I’m fine, don’t worry about it, Goof.” He looked away to fidget with his backpack strap.

Bradley was expecting his defensiveness to be met with more defensiveness, but was again mistaken. Instead, Goof just said, “I thought we agreed that you’d call me Max if I called you Bradley?” 

Bradley blinked and looked at Max scrutinizingly. The goof just looked relaxed and unbothered, his backpack loosely hanging off his shoulder, the other strap laying useless. His pants looked baggier than usual and his face less concerned, but it still lingered. “Right.” He sighed and honestly had no idea what he was looking for on Max, but since he didn’t seem to find it he relented. “Um, thank you. For stepping in. Max.” His stilted tone made the apology seem more like he was getting his teeth pulled out, but Max didn’t seem bothered by it. He just gave Bradley a lopsided grin and shrugged his shoulders.

“It was no problem. I’m not a big fan of seeing people get bullied, so.” He shifted the weight of his bag a little, looking anywhere but Bradley as if that was a simple statement. Bradley couldn’t have been more confused, though. 

“Even though it’s me?” Bradley pushed, not needing to continue with the question. They both knew what he meant. Even though the guy being bullied was someone who was your arch-nemesis and rival and also bullied you throughout the tournament? Max met his gaze again and nodded. 

“Yeah, even if it’s you.” 

Bradley didn’t even know what to feel hearing that. He felt simultaneously numb but weightless. His throat was so dry he couldn’t help gulping and willed himself not to do something as stupid as cry, or scream at Max ‘Why?! Why are you being this helpful and forgiving right now?! You should be laughing with them and throwing paper balls at me too!’ 

“Anyway,” Max cleared his throat and that’s when Bradley realized he had been holding a paper. “I know you’re like super late to your next class, but I was actually hoping you'd check over my homework? It’s due in a couple of hours, and if not that’s totally fine, I just figured I’d ask anyway.” He rambled and held the paper tightly in his hands, his weight shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

Bradley watched for a moment before holding out his hand with a nod. Max looked down at it as if it were green before shaking out of his stupor and handed the paper to him finally. “Thanks, Brad-ley.” He quickly added, catching himself.

The aforementioned nodded and set the paper down in front of him on the desk. “Do you want me to correct any mistakes, or just check the answers and tell you which questions you got wrong?” 

Max moved, leaning forward onto the table, his form towering over Bradley a bit but enough to make him lightly blush and avoid his gaze again. “Um… Could you tell me which ones I got wrong and point out where I made the mistake. I can redo it. I just want to know what I got wrong, and then try and figure it out myself.” 

Bradley was impressed that Goof didn’t want him to just tell him how to get to the right answer, but actually seemed to want to put an effort in. He smiled a little and missed the surprised look Max made and the small quick smile that reached his face as he dug into his bag to get a red pen. “Alright. Do you mind if I use a red pen on your scratch paper?” 

“Nah, I can rewrite it later. Go ahead, have a field day with it.” Max joked, earning a small chuckle from Bradley. Soon enough Bradley was done going through it and handing the homework back to Max. 

“You did pretty good, only missed four out of the fifteen questions.” He nodded at Max as they began walking out of the classroom, the other was looking over the corrections already and seemed pretty proud of the news. 

“Really? That’s less than I thought it would have been!” He laughed a bit while looking pretty proud of himself. 

Bradley nodded and tried to resist the smile tugging at his lips. “Yup. You would have made a 73.33% on the homework assignment.” 

“Hey, that’s better than what I normally get.” He grinned and nudged Bradley’s shoulder lightly, “Seems like your tutoring is already paying off.” 

Bradley shrugged and stopped at where their paths seemed to be at a crossroads. “I told you that a lot of your mistakes could easily be avoided with just proper organization. Now we just have to work on getting you to remember your formulas, know when to use those formulas, and get you to practice solving equations more often.” Max scrunched up his nose at the last one, but didn’t seem too bothered overall.

“Well, I’d probably start off failing if it wasn’t for you helping me organize my work, so thanks.” He stuffed his paper back into his bag finally and then seemed unwilling to start walking away. Bradley found that he also was reluctant to just dash away now that their interaction seemed to be officially over, despite being about thirty minutes late to his class. It was appalling! Especially as he seemed to flush under the appreciation. 

“Well, it was no problem. It’s my job as a tutor after all.” He said simply and they lingered in a small silence, just standing around one another and glancing everywhere. Eventually, Bradley cracked first. “I should get going! I’m really late, so… I’ll see you next class, Go- Max.” He caught himself and received a nod and wave.

“Right! Yeah, sorry to hold you up. I owe you one.” Max stammered before the two bid their goodbyes and bolted away from one another. As Bradley rushed to his next class his mind was swimming all over the place, and when he slinked into the class late, he found he could barely even pay attention anyway. Just one tutoring session and it seemed like everything was starting to change already! Bradley just couldn’t figure out if it was for the worse or the better. He supposed he would find out soon enough, and he silently hoped it was for the better.

Tuesday was spent going through his second half of classes, which while were less in numbers, it was still the same amount of time due to the class being three whole hours, and an hour math lab he had to take. At least this semester Bradley didn’t have to spend his spare hours in classes he wasn’t taking since he had been set on a probation for his TA duties, thanks to the X-Games incident of course. Bradley doubted very many professors would even want to accept Bradley as their TA regardless of the probation anyway, so Bradley considered himself lucked out from any rejection which would have wounded him a thousand times more. He spent the rest of his day working, and luckily his three hour class was only once a week, so that meant he had a pretty free schedule on Thursdays to worry about any bigger assignments due the next week. 

Bradley toed off his work shoes and was quick to shower after his long day, letting the hot water calm his body and thoughts which seemed to be so persistent when his mind was unoccupied. Afterwards, he was saved from thinking of the oddly too friendly interactions between Max and him while he quickly made himself some avocado toast and pristine sunny side up eggs. He was actually getting better at keeping the gross fried part off his eggs now! Bradley had mixed feelings about that since on one hand it meant he had been living alone in this dingy sad apartment for so long now that he was gaining decent cooking skills, but on the other hand having good cooking skills seemed to be pretty useful now that he was supporting himself. He had always considered himself an independent individual, but now that he was living here in secret and earning a healthy age for his rent Bradley actually started to actually feel like one. 

He knew he was better off and more privileged than others, but it was rather humbling to have to make his own food instead of ordering one of the Gammas to handle the meals, or whenever he went back home to have his stepmother or a chef handle those meals as well. Doing his chores was something he was vaguely aware of doing, but the intricacies and all of the time and effort that they took was finally starting to reach him. All of the times he had set designated chores for the Gammas to do and claiming that being the president was chore enough for him came back in distasteful memories whenever he washed the dishes or folded his laundry. However, aside from the humbling he got from knowing the difficulty of doing your own chores, and the ashamed feeling he got remembering how spoiled he had acted, Bradley felt a sense of empowerment. (Which also made Bradley feel a bit silly – I mean who gets empowered after doing their own laundry?) He always felt so proud of how his meal turned out when it was actually good and looked like the recipe book he was following, or when he finished scrubbing down the whole bathroom until it sparkled. 

As Bradley plated his dinner, his thoughts were again left to wander towards his confusion over Max Goof. He let the peaceful music from his radio play as he ate, but this did little to distract his brain from angsting over how friendly their interactions had been. How Max had actually stopped by to not only help Bradley, but also get some assistance on his homework. Sure, Bradley was his tutor for Fridays, but beside that it was unusual to be sought outside of tutoring sessions for more assistance. The thing that was stuck in Bradley’s head however had been his words. 

“It was no problem. I’m not a big fan of seeing people get bullied, so.” Max had said so easily. Bradley knew that statement to be true, but he still had to ask.

“Even though it’s me?” 

And Bradley remembered how Max had answered, without an ounce of hesitation, “Yeah, even if it’s you.” 

It replayed on a loop over and over like a broken record in Bradley’s head. He honestly had no idea what to make of that. Was he only against it now because Bradley was going to tutor him, or would he have intervened regardless? Had Max noticed the Gammas shoving him that first class and just brushed it off, or had he just not seen it? Bradley sighed and rubbed his temples and forehead, willing that his face didn’t get wrinkles from all of the contorting his eyebrows were doing. After finishing his food, he washed his dishes, and finished up any homework due tomorrow before going through his nightly routine and finally falling asleep. 

And if he spent an hour in the dark tossing and turning, restless and his brain still repeating Max Goof’s words over and over until his mind fell asleep then that was his business and his alone. 

If he had dreams about giant paper balls rolling down a hill and chasing him down an endless college building hallway, and then being saved by some red blur on a skateboard then that was also only his business. 

By the time he made it to class on Wednesday Bradley couldn’t tell if he had actually gotten any rest, but since he had woken up late due to his brain’s reluctance to pry itself out of his weird dream, he had to skip getting any coffee he might have gotten. Not that Bradley was late at all, he was still fairly early and the classroom was fairly empty when he rolled in, but he had a feeling if he got there any time remotely after the two girls who sat next to him, then he’d be forced to find a whole new seat instead. That was definitely out of the question. 

As he took his spot and kept to himself while unpacking his bag for the class, he was surprised when someone came to stand by his desk once more. He wasn’t as surprised this time to see that it was Max Goof though. He raised an eyebrow at the smiling Goof, “Morning, Bradley!” He chipped. Well, figures he would be in a good mood. 

“Um, good morning, Max.” He said slightly unsure, but the other didn’t seem to be bothered. 

“I got some good news, and I come with a gift.” He grinned and set down a drink. “I’ll start with the gift since you seem to be needing it right now, but I got you a mocha. With whipped cream, uhh extra chocolate shavings, and a hint of caramel drizzle?” He said the last ingredient like he was slightly unsure and double checked that was all. “Oh! And with some mini marshmallows.” He nodded as if very proud of his memory. Bradley could only stare in bewilderment at him. 

“How do you know my favorite coffee drink to order?” 

Max’s proud look was quickly replaced with one of embarrassment as his face began to turn pink, and he quickly fake-coughed into his hand as an excuse to cover his face. “Well, uh, I just asked around, you know?” 

Bradley raised his eyebrow, but let his hands hold onto the warm drink. Seeing as it was still January, it was still chilly outside and he welcomed the warmth, but waited to take a sip. “Mmhm, and why would you need to ask around to find out what my favorite coffee to order is?” 

Max’s embarrassment dimmed a little as his next answer helped to make his gesture seem less weird. “Because I said I owed you one, didn’t I?” And when Bradley just blinked owlishly at him, as if Max had grown a second head, he just huffed and crossed his arms. “Look, just take the drink, man. I mean, I’m definitely not going to drink something that sugary sweet, especially this early in the morning.” Bradley looked between Max and the drink once more before slightly smiling without thinking, and nodding. 

“Alright. Well, thank you for the drink.” He sipped it and couldn’t help but let out a relaxed sigh. It really was good, and just how he loved it. Bradley made a mental note to start learning how to make these at his own workplace. “And by the way, when you owe someone a favor, typically you wait for them to tell you what that favor is instead of assuming.” He gave Max a teasing look who only bristled and his face went back to turning a bright pink. Bradley laughed lightly and shook his head, “Anyway, what good news did you need to tell me?” 

Max’s embarrassment was quickly replaced as he grinned. “Oh right! I almost forgot.” Ignoring the judgemental look Bradley gave him, (because how could you forget the very thing you came to talk to someone about?) Max pulled out a paper from his bag and slapped it down on the desk, “Check it out!” 

When Bradley looked at the paper it was to see an 83% circled in big red letters. “Oh, is this your homework?” He looked back at Max to see the Goof grinning proudly yet again. 

“Yup! She took off half points on one of the problems because I forgot to copy the answer back onto the paper, but still. I got a B!” He picked the paper back up and waved it around as if it were a golden shining trophy. Bradley simply watched on in amusement as he enjoyed his mocha. “This is like one of the best grades I’ve gotten on a math assignment before! And guess what?” He gave Bradley a mischievous grin, but for once Bradley didn’t even feel like it was something against him. 

“What?” 

“I even did the math to calculate what I would have gotten if I had copied the answer off of my scratch paper and onto my homework page. It would have been about 86%!” And the way Max had said the statement made Bradley laugh despite the fact he had been slightly trying to hold himself back. 

“Wow, doing math willingly and all on your own? To calculate your grade?” Bradley joked sarcastically, “Who are you and what have you done to Max Goof?” 

Max gave him a funny look and smile, opening his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a girlish gasp of excitement. 

“Oh em gee! Max Goof, are you trying to sit over here?” The girl who sat next to him said excitedly and her friend was quick to walk through and get to her seat. 

Max, looking more than surprised and a little bereft, just floundered before responding with a sheepish, “Uh. No, not exactly.” That’s when Bradley took notice of how the classroom had seemed to all file in, and was basically full and ready to start. They still had a minute or two before the class actually started, but Bradley was more concerned about the fact that he had been so easily distracted. Who knew time could fly this fast talking to someone before class instead of agonizingly waiting for it to start. 

The girl seemed to pout a bit and then shot Bradley a dirty look. “If it’s because he won’t move, I’m sure we can convince him. Don’t worry-” She was cut off by Max waving his hands around wildly which would have amused Bradley, but he was too busy turning away and glaring at his desk to care anymore. Of course, what else would he have expected? 

“Oh no! No, no, seriously, I’d rather sit with my friends.” He gestured back to the two who were sitting in the middle of Bradley’s side of the classroom (no wonder he never spotted them in the class) and then stuffed his hands into his pockets. “And besides, I hate the front row, so no worries. Bradley can definitely keep his spot.” And since Bradley was back to glaring at his desk, he missed the awkward smile Max tried to give him. “Anyway, I should get to my own seat, um, bye.” He sped off quickly and Bradley couldn’t help the disappointment that stung when Max left so easily without bidding him a goodbye. Bradley shoved that thought down very quickly though because it was beyond stupid to think, and put all of his focus on paying attention to the lesson. 

He finished his drink, despite it tasting slightly duller thanks to his soured mood, and managed to ignore the paper balls which stopped a lot earlier than the previous class. Eventually, when it was time to leave, Bradley wasted no time in booking it out of the class, and dumping the rest of his drink into the trash since all that was left was whipped cream and marshmallow mush. And if he had hoped that Max would have tried to catch up to talk to him then he ignored that feeling very much. He also ignored another ache of disappointment when it never happened. 

Max Goof wasn’t his friend, and Bradley didn’t want to be friends with him anyway. He could talk about all of these confusing and horrible feelings during his session with Mrs. Coleman tomorrow, and hopefully it would all make a lot more sense afterward.

Chapter Text

Bradley sat bundled up in his sweater, fiddling with the sleeves as he slumped into his usual seat in Mrs. Coleman’s office. She was busy making them some tea again, but this time in the break room because the tea kettle in her office had needed to be replaced, so he was left to his thoughts as he patiently waited. He would have been impatient if what Bradley was planning on discussing wasn’t so embarrassing. 

By the time Mrs. Coleman came back with two tea mugs and a smile on her face. She quite enjoyed her sessions with Bradley at this point, so the pleasantries they exchanged came like second nature at this point. “Good afternoon, Bradley. I hope the week has been good for you.” She said and got everything settled, but when she looked at her client she was surprised to see Bradley so sunken in on himself. She’d seen him angry, sad, depressed, and anxious, but this was a new one. He sort of looked like he was more of a sweater than Bradley. 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Coleman. I sure hope your week has been better than mine,” He heaved a sigh and grabbed the throw pillow to hold onto. Bradley was beginning to feel a lot more comfortable, enough that he didn’t care if he looked like a child for wanting comfort from throw pillows. Besides, he knew Mrs. Coleman would never judge him for any of those behaviors. 

“Is there anything you would like to discuss specifically for today?” She hummed and blew on her hot tea before taking a sip. 

Bradley stared into the throw pillow for a moment before letting out another, heavier sigh. “Yeah. I, uh, I don’t actually know if it’s important or not, or why it’s been bugging me, but I do have something that I want to talk about.”

Mrs. Coleman nodded, “Well, would you want to tell me now or just tell me about some things that happened this week first before we get to it?” 

Bradley thought for a moment before choosing the second option, but didn’t feel all that good about his decision either. Of course, always taking the easy way out. He thought glumly before regaling her about some meaningless stories from work, or mundane things that happened since their last session. Just some updates. Eventually, when he was feeling a bit better he decided to finally peel off the bandaid, “Um… and I guess the thing I wanted to talk about was the Max Goof situation.” Mrs. Coleman nodded in response, she had been wondering if that might be the topic today, but one could never truly know for sure.

“Have you been able to make progress, or has the situation gotten worse?” 

Bradley shrugged for a moment and then explained the past interactions between him and Goof. How they had come to a cordial truce and that the tutoring was already starting to pay off for Max. He even mentioned how Goof had come to his rescue and Mrs. Coleman made a note to discuss the bullying after addressing what Bradley’s current issue was. By the end of the whole recall Bradley grew a little shy, not really wanting to admit the problem out loud. Mrs. Coleman was perfectly patient as Bradley worked up the nerve to finally admit, “I guess I got my hopes up too fast… a part of me was starting to think that maybe I could move past being Goof’s tutor, you know?” Bradley paused and then sighed. “Which is beyond stupid and overeager of me, I know. I mean we’ve only had one official tutoring session! Just because he got me a drink and asked for some help outside of it doesn’t actually mean anything. I mean he clearly only cares about his grade which, duh! I don’t know, I guess I just got ahead of myself.” Mrs. Coleman opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Bradley continuing, “Maybe it’s because I’ve been so isolated lately? I mean the only people I’ve talked to lately are you and Jerry, and full offense but Jerry sucks and doesn’t even like me, so.” Bradley deadpanned and just went back to drinking his tea. 

Mrs. Coleman nodded and took a moment to collect her thoughts before asking, “So, you’re thinking that the reason you were excited by Mr. Goof’s kind gesture was because you haven’t been exposed to any recently?” 

Bradley nodded and grinned. “Exactly! I mean why else would I care so much about Goof ignoring me and leaving to go back to his friends without acknowledging me the rest of class? It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Bradley felt quite proud that he managed to finally figure it out.

“Well that certainly could be the reason. It does make a lot of sense,” Mrs. Coleman agreed. “So what do you want to do about that?” 

Bradley paused, looking confused. “About what?” 

“Do you want to befriend Mr. Goof or do you want to just continue maintaining a tutor and tutee relationship?” Mrs. Coleman inquired. “There’s nothing wrong with either option, Bradley, I just want you to think about it. It might do you some good to try making other friends outside of the Gammas and Mr. Goof seems to be a forgiving person from what you’ve told me. He might be willing to extend you an olive branch. However, if you don’t actually want to be friends with him then that’s completely fine too, but we should try and get some ideas on how to expand your social circle.” 

Bradley took in all of this and then seemed deeply uncomfortable based off of the contorted look on his face. Mrs. Coleman was amused but did manage to keep it to herself. “It’s not good to be so isolated, and our conclusion earlier was that you were craving some sort of friendship, so I want to make sure we make that happen for you. I hate to hear that your only interactions are Jerry and the one hour tutoring sessions that you have.” Bradley nodded along at her further explanation. She was right, he definitely wanted to stop being so lonely. He missed the busyness of the Gamma house, and he hadn’t actually been so fully alone until after getting kicked out. He was usually surrounded by the Gammas, group mates in projects, or his family during breaks, but it had all been wiped out since the X-Games. No wonder I’ve been so depressed at my apartment, Bradley thought glumly. 

“I… honestly don’t know.” Bradley grimaced. “Like, half the people in my classes hate me– heck, even Carlos almost banned me from the skate shop and he’s not even on the campus!” Bradley threw his arms up in the air, defeated. “I’ve been putting off looking at clubs too because most are definitely going to just boo me out of their rooms, and I refuse to go through that humiliation.” He huffed, crossing his arms. “I genuinely don’t know where I would meet anyone that doesn’t hate me on sight.” 

Mrs. Coleman nodded sympathetically, thinking about it. “Well, I’m sure not all of the clubs will hate you or know about the drama. Obviously any fraternity and sorority related groups are out. Maybe try a non-sport related club? The sporty ones will most likely know you immediately, so those you should probably try after some time, or after you’ve made amends with the others.” 

Bradley scrunched up his nose but decided that something was better than nothing. He’d have to go and look at what non-sport and non-frat clubs existed. He would rather be alone than be in a chess club though– not that chess club sounded very social in the first place. 

“So, I’m guessing befriending Mr. Goof is also off the table?” Mrs. Coleman brought him out of his thoughts and Bradley startled a bit. She raised her eyebrow and Bradley just squirmed in his seat. 

“Um… Maybe, I don’t know yet.” Bradley answered honestly. “I think I’d rather just keep him at an arm’s length. I’ll just focus on being his tutor and nothing else. I doubt he’d want to be my friend anyway, so maybe after he’s done needing math help then we can just part as cordial acquaintances.” Bradley finished and nodded at his own idea, thinking that sounded perfectly sound and dandy to himself. Mrs. Coleman agreed, and then they spent the rest of the session brainstorming a multitude of things. 

As Bradley waved off his last tutee he got himself ready for whenever Goof showed up for their tutoring session. After everything was ready to go, he checked the time and realized he had some time to finish up the touches on his sister’s custom skateboard paperwork, and wanted to double check it. He’d been carrying it around in his bag all day since he planned to drop it off after his session with Goof and then head home finally to do, sadly, more studying and homework. 

Mrs. Coleman was right. He needed to join an extracurricular sometime soon or he might just go crazy again, this time from boredom. Now that he couldn’t skate he forgot what other hobbies he used to have before skateboarding became such a prominent part of his life. Once he finished checking over the custom skateboard form, he checked the time and realized he had about ten more minutes for Goof to show up and sighed. Well, I did pick up those fliers off the club boards. He thought to himself and pulled out the stack of papers he’d kind of just grabbed off the pin up board and stuffed into his bag for later. He had intended to look at them at home, but he had enough time to kill. 

Bradley got lost flipping through the fliers, internally discarding the ones that were automatic vetoes (Kappa Alpha Psi, no. Obviously not the baseball club. Coffee Beans club? Oh hell no, never showing my face at the Bean Scene ever again). Time flew by as he got more than halfway through the fliers only to realize Goof was late! Bradley scowled and saw that it was ten minutes past the time Goof should have been here. 

Bradley checked his phone to see if he even got a message about a cancellation or late notice, but nope. There was nothing. Bradley laughed self-deprecatingly to himself and sighed, And I thought he was being nice. I thought we could be friends! He’s late to his own tutoring session and can’t even be bothered to show some consideration for my time. Bradley, despite really wanting to just pack up and leave right then and there, decided to just wait another ten minutes anyway since the skate shop would be open for the next two hours anyway, and seeing if Goof even showed up would help kill any more hopes for friendship that might have remained from the other day. 

Bradley was back to sifting through the club fliers when he heard a commotion run through the library until Goof showed up all flustered and in a rush. His hair was flying everywhere and he was in a baggy purple hoodie and black sweatpants, his skateboard gripped tightly in his hand, and his backpack nearly falling off his shoulder. Bradley had startled but quickly schooled his expression into something more unamused. Goof grinned sheepishly and dumped his backpack onto the desk and propped his skateboard against the table before collapsing onto the chair across from Bradley. 

“Sorry I’m late, I accidentally slept through my alarm and rushed to get here as fast as I could.” He explained and Bradley nodded before shaking his head. Of course. Bradley thought bitterly but quickly brushed away any other negative thoughts. He refused to backtrack over something so meaningless in the grand scheme of things. At least Goof had shown up. Bradley could get past his attitude and true feelings about tardiness and focus on just helping Goof learn some algebra and getting out of his hair faster. 

“Just make sure to message me next time if you’re running late or not showing up.” Bradley said snippily. Goof grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck, slumping deeper into the library chair. 

“Right! Sorry, I forgot I can do that.” 

Bradley did not have enough restraint to keep the eyeroll from happening, but Goof at least didn’t call him out on it. Bradley began to put away the miscellaneous papers he had out in the meantime and began to explain their focus of today’s session, “So based off of your homework assignment that you showed me, I figured we could start off with some practice questions and then I can show you some basic tips and formulas. Afterwards, we can focus on doing your next homework assignment–” 

“Are you joining the beekeeping club?” Max cut him off (rather rudely if Bradley might add). 

Bradley just stared at Max in confusion until the freshman gestured to the flier he was currently holding at the top of the pile. “Oh!” He flushed and quickly shoved it into his bag and began stuffing away the rest as well. How embarrassing. “Oh no, no. Yeah, uh, no.” Bradley shook his head and honestly didn’t really know what to say besides that since he had absolutely zero plans on confiding in Goof about his loneliness predicament. 

“You sure? I promise I’m not gonna judge you if you are.” Max said earnestly and shuckled, “I mean bees are cool. I think Bobby joined the club, but that was because he met a cute girl who was in it, and ended up staying for the bees. Says it’s pretty cool.” He leaned forward onto the table and Bradley’s eye was doing its best not to twitch. They were supposed to be studying, not talking about one of Goof’s loser friends or Bradley’s sudden interest in clubs. 

“Well, that’s good for him.” Bradley said stiffly and then straightened up. “We should get to work though since we’re more than ten minutes behind on time and I have somewhere to be after this.” Bradley watched as Max blinked and then a more guarded demeanor came over him and he nodded along. If Bradley had paid more attention then he would have noticed the slightly disappointed look on his face. 

“No, yeah. You’re right.” Goof pulled out his homework papers, Bradley’s old textbook, and a pencil. “So you said we’re gonna start with uh…” He trailed off, looking away as he tried to remember what Bradley had said. 

Bradley sighed and slid over a worksheet he had printed out this morning, “We’re going to go over these math problems first. I want to see how you work through them, and where you need help. Then we can go over them together, I’ll show you how to solve the ones you got wrong, and then I’ll help you brush up on formulas and rules that you need to remember for solving them.” Max nodded along and stared at the worksheet with his nose scrunched up. 

“Will I be timed?” 

Bradley shook his head, “No. However, you won’t be allowed to use the textbook or any notes. I want to know what you can remember off of the top of your head.” Max groaned but began to work on it as Bradley watched over him, following along. “That does remind me,” He said halfway through the worksheet, “Has my textbook been very helpful?” 

Max looked up and grinned, “Oh yeah! It’s been helping me loads, and it’s helped PJ and Bobby too–” Max grimaced and then had that guarded look on him once again, “Uh, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Bradley pursed his lips then just gave a half-hearted shrug. He did care somewhat, but in the long-term he guessed it didn’t really matter. “Just as long as it remains in perfect condition and I get it back when the semester is over, it’s fine. But remember, I’m lending it to you, so you should be the one primarily using it.” Bradley stressed and figured that answer was good enough. Max nodded and eased up again, going back to finishing the worksheet. 

Before Bradley realized a whole hour had gone by and their tutoring session was over. Max hadn’t tried to make anymore awkward small talk and didn’t keep pretending to care about Bradley’s interests, thank goodness. “Alright, it looks like you’re already doing great. At this rate you probably won’t even need me.” Bradley hummed as they packed their things away. 

Max laughed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t go that far, but thanks for the vote of confidence. And the help too, I guess.” Max joked and watched as Bradley made sure all of his stuff was put away in their proper places and began to stand up and clear away the trash and eraser shavings on the table. 

“It’s my job to help you,” Bradley rolled his eyes and levelled Max with a deadpan look, “And if I thought you were a hopeless case at math, you know I’d tell you, so quit doubting yourself.” Max looked a bit surprised and just stared as Bradley turned back away to throw away the trash as he kept speaking, “Doubting yourself is doubting me by extension, and I refuse to tolerate it. Just remember to study, and you can ask me to check your homework, just try to make sure it’s before class from now on. I’d rather not be late to business statistics with spreadsheets again.” Bradley shuddered remembering the catching up he’d had to do later that day.

Max winced and ran a hand through his hair, the other picking up his skateboard. “Yeah, that’s my bad. I’ll make sure to get there earlier for any homework checks.” Bradley nodded and then awkwardly stood there as they got stuck just lingering by their table. Eventually they both began to leave the now very empty library in a very suffocatingly awkward silence. Bradley was debating just booking it out of there, it’s not like his reputation would take a hit and the library had no one there to really witness him fleeing the awkwardness, but refrained from doing so. They would just walk together to the exit and then go their separate ways. 

“So, you said you had something to do after this.” Max blurted out and when Bradley looked over at him he noticed how Goof seemed to instantly regret opening his big mouth. 

Bradley managed to be pretty amused by this, so he had no problem responding. “Yeah, I do.” Not that he was going to respond with anything to help this conversation along, he wasn’t feeling too nice. Max seemed to notice and just looked unamused in return.

“What are you up to after this?” 

Bradley hummed and waved his hand around. “Oh, you know. Just this and that.” Max rolled his eyes, but then had a smug look on his face. Before Bradley had the time to grow suspicious, Max was already beating him to get the next word. “Does it have anything to do with that skateboard form I saw under those fliers?” 

Bradley paled but his annoyance was quick to override any horror from being so easily snooped on. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a nosiness problem?” 

Max huffed and waved him off. “Nah, not really. So, ya planning on getting a new board?” 

Bradley scowled and laughed sarcastically. “Ah, yes! Because I’d have so many places to skate at.” Bradley decided that this conversation was no longer amusing, and he hurried his pace which annoyingly Goof easily matched despite his lazier and relaxed stride. 

“So if it’s not for you then why do you have a skateboard form?” Goof inquired. 

“None of your business, that’s why.” Bradley snapped and Goof rolled his eyes again. 

“You know, I’m just asking a question. There’s no need to be so defensive.” 

“Yeah, well, I am, so.” Bradley, glad to finally see the exit, rushed and pushed through the library doors and didn’t bother to hold it open for Goof. Not that it was very inconvenient for him, since he was right behind Bradley. 

“I can see that.” Goof sighed, “Look man, I really didn’t mean to push your buttons this time. I was just curious.” He placed a gentle hand on Bradley’s shoulder, who tensed at the contact. Bradley turned around quickly to look at Max and then startled seeing how close he was, he hadn’t expected him to be right next to his face when he turned. They both flushed and stepped back before awkwardly looking away from one another. Goof cleared his throat before adding again, “I really didn’t mean to step on your toes.” 

Bradley gulped and gripped his bag strap, looking down at the space between them, feeling a little embarrassed. Both for his defensiveness and for the awkward proximity from a moment ago. “It’s fine.” He finally settled on. “I do need to get going though, the skate shop closes soon, and I really need to drop off the form, so…” He trailed off and let the slight information slip out before he could second guess sharing it. Maybe Goof really was trying to be friendly, and Bradley could try and be a little easier about letting it happen. 

Max nodded and gave him a lopsided smile. “Right! You should get going then, I guess I’ll see you Monday right?” 

Bradley nodded and watched as Max went down the steps first and then threw his skateboard down and easily got onto it. Max gave him a little wave before kicking off and heading in the opposite direction of where Bradley had to go to get to his car. Bradley hadn’t even had a chance to wave back, but he did anyway for some odd reason, just watching Max skate into the distance. Eventually, he shook himself out of his stupor and quickly headed to his car to drive to the skate shop. 

Handing in the papers to Carlos went a lot faster and easier than Bradley had expected, but he was more than happy about it since he’d received some pretty nasty looks this time around. The store had been more crowded this time, and Bradley just hoped that Carlos being fine with his presence kept other people off his back until Bradley never had to return again. The weekend went by easily as well, if anything it was just incredibly boring since all he had to occupy his time was work and school assignments. Looking through the fliers had gotten boring, and he whittled down his options pretty fast and made sure to put reminders down for the dates that he would have to stop by to check the clubs out. 

Bradley had expected an easy breezy weekend, but alas, his life was far from that simple. “Brad! Hey Brad!” Jerry shouted from the back of the store, neglecting the fact that Bradley was doing everything already in the front. Bradley groaned and finished topping a latte off with whipped cream, giving it to the customer, before going to quickly check what was wrong now in the back. 

“Yes, Jerry? What could you possibly need right now?” He huffed, not able to keep his irritation at bay this time. Jerry had been particularly lazy and complainy today. 

Jerry turned to Bradley with a grunt, “Finally! I’ve been calling you for ten minutes!” Bradley rolled his eyes because that was definitely not true, but whatever. “We’re having a problem with the back up espresso machine. It’s being all weird and funky, but I was trying to exchange it with the other one out there since that one’s been giving me problems.” Jerry stared back at the back up machine with a puzzled look. 

Bradley sighed and went over to get a closer look at the machine, and it looked fairly normal. “You do know that the espresso machines out there are working fine right?” Bradley started with, “You don’t tamp down the coffee correctly. The machine is perfectly fine.” Jerry scoffed but Bradley decided to continue before he got super defensive, “Anyway, I can take a look at this one in a moment, we still have customers out there so-” Bradley was cut off by hearing the little bell on the counter ding a few times and he groaned. “Look, I’ll be back when the line’s shorter, or if you want to swap out.” Bradley rushed back outside and greeted the impatient girl waiting with more of a grimace than a smile, but he tried. 

“Sorry about that, what would you like to order?” He asked, and then proceeded to be told the most complicated order of his life, which was fine. Everything would be fine, he only had a few more hours left on his shift, and then Bradley could relax on his couch and surf some channels. 

As Bradley moved to make the drink he caught a slight glimpse of a bright green shirt which made him trip over his feet because he recognized that shirt. As he glanced more from the corner of his eye, trying to hide behind the big coffee machines, he recognized the orange hair as well. The person who he was certain was Goof’s loser beekeeper friend was currently standing in line at his job! Of all the people he would have expected to find him here, it was definitely not any of Goof’s friends. Weren’t they loyal Bean Scene customers?!

Maybe Bradley could beg Jerry to swap out with him before he gave this girl her drink, and he could avoid Goof’s friend entirely. However, Bradley knew that was just hopeful thinking. The reason Jerry was even fiddling with the dumb back up espresso machine was to escape being helpful out here anyway. Bradley dragged his feet as he returned to the counter and gave the girl her drink, ringing her up, and she left in a blur. That was the moment Bradley regretted everything because it wasn’t just the green one, but Goof was there too! They were just missing the big one now. Bradley swore under his breath, but it was too late for any divine intervention because he locked eyes with Goof as the two girls with them walked up to the counter. 

“Holy shit!” The green shirted friend –Moby?– said, “I didn’t realize you worked.”

Bradley grimaced and glanced over to the friend that he could barely remember the name of. He wore a dumb look on his face, something that looked very shocked and amused. Bradley stood stiffly gripping the counter as he turned his attention to the girls with them, apparently they recognized him, but they seemed a little hesitant as if waiting to see if Goof and his friend would want to just leave or not. 

Goof looked just as shocked, but at his friend’s comment he gave the green one a slight elbow to his side. “Uh, hey Brad-ley,” He added quickly and smiled nervously, “I think what Bobby meant to say was that we didn’t realize you worked here! Or that you were interested in being a barista.” 

Bradley only continued to look pained but stiffly shrugged. “Well, it’s not exactly my calling.” He pursed his lips and was counting to ten over and over in his head. Just get through this fast, Bradley. We can get through this. “So, what did you want to order, and is it all together?” Bradley tried not to think about how it looked like they were on a double date. Not to mention that the girls were fairly pretty looking. The one closest to Bobby had dirty blonde hair styled into two french braids, she dressed in cute artsy overalls, a boho handbag, and a graphic tee. She had big green eyes and freckles across her face. 

Luckily, she eased up and spoke first with a cheery demeanor. “You guys have that one chicory root maple with almond milk drink right?” She squinted at the menu, “Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been here, and I forgot my glasses.” 

Bradley nodded, “Don’t worry about it. We do happen to have it right now.” He said and added it when she asked to get that. Bradley watched as Bobby spoke up next, trying to sound suave. 

“We’ll be paying together,” He started with and then looked over at the bakery items. “Uhh, could I get one of those super chocolatey brownies, and a blueberry muffin.” Bobby grinned when he saw the girl blush, “That’ll be all.” Bradley nodded and rang them up. 

“By the way, your chicory coffee may take a bit longer.” Bradley added, feeling a touch nervous because customers usually got nitpicky, but was relieved when she waved it off with a grin.

“That’s fine! We’ll be sitting here instead of getting to-go, anyway.” Bradley nodded and got their names to put on the cups, Bobby and Brie, before turning to the other duo. He was startled to find Max already staring at him, and watched as Max seemed to flush before quickly looking down at his feet, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

“Um, will you two be ordering together as well?” Bradley cursed himself for the hesitant note in his voice, but Goof had really startled him from the intense gaze he had met for just a moment. Who knows how long Goof had been staring holes into him. 

Max nodded and gestured for the girl to order first. She had a black bob and deep brown eyes, dressed in a cute maroon skirt and matching top, with a cropped black jean jacket. She had a more mature and put together style than Goof, who was wearing a big graphic t-shirt and baggy cargo pants. Some chains hanging down from some of his belt loops. 

The girl then proceeded to order off an insanely complicated wannabe healthy but still insanely caffeinated and not actually healthy drink order. Then she asked for two cheese and egg quiches (which Bradley always hated bagging because the smell was just not to his taste), and an almond granola bar. Bradley held in his grimace luckily, and finally turned to Goof who was failing to hide his own pained face. Bradley managed to find that slightly amusing. 

“Uh, could I just get one of those hot chocolates.” He paused, squinting as if deciding he wanted to add something or not, before asking, “Does the hot chocolate have marshmallows?” 

Bradley raised a brow, but couldn’t help the slight smile that reached his lips as he shook his head in amusement. “Yes, the hot chocolate comes with marshmallows. Did you want extra?” Bradley delighted in the blush that reached Goof’s face as he nodded. 

“Yeah, yup! And could I get one of those chocolate muffins, please? That’ll be all.” Bradley nodded and finished ringing them up. Goof paid, albeit looking a bit reluctant about it, and Bradley let them know they could have a seat until he called their names out. As they shuffled to a booth to sit down, Bradley got their food together first and did his best to ignore whatever double date was going on over there, but was slightly failing. It was clear that Bobby and Brie were interested in one another, meanwhile Goof and the girl, Marie, were having more stilted conversation. Bradley couldn’t tell if there was a mutual disinterest or if it was a onesided one, but soon he was calling their names out for their food. He was surprised to see goof shoot out of his seat, seemingly offering to grab it for everyone, and made his way to the counter. 

Bradley could barely get over to starting their drinks before Goof was already at the counter and grabbing some napkins and forks. “Hey, Bradley. I just wanted to apologize for Bobby’s comment in the beginning again.” He leaned forward onto the counter and had a sheepish look.

Bradley, once again was taken by surprise, and could Goof seriously stop surprising him?! “Oh, um, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Bradley waved him off and Goof nodded, his shoulders slumping in relief. However, Goof didn’t leave the counter yet. Bradley waited before speaking again, “Was there anything else that you needed?” 

Goof pursed his lips and then ran a hand through his hair, his expression completely genuine, “No, no. This is fine,” He gestured to the napkins and forks, “I was just wanting to make sure you don’t mind us sticking around here to eat. If you’d rather us not be here I could convince us to head out earlier.” Bradley blinked owlishly and felt his face grow hot, touched by the consideration. He shook himself out of the stupor and shook his head. 

“It’s all good, Goof. I don’t mind, I’m too busy working to be annoyed by you guys anyway.” He joked dryly and felt pleased when Max laughed in return. “Speaking of which, I should really get to your drinks before anyone else comes in to order.” Bradley turned slightly and Max nodded eagerly. 

“Right! Right, sorry, didn’t mean to distract you.” Goof’s shoulders reached up to his ears as he sheepishly gathered the food into his hands and began walking backwards back to their table. Bradley raised a brow, the smile reluctantly on his face as he watched, and when Goof nearly stumbled over his feet when he turned around to properly walk back to the table, Bradley managed to stifle his laugh behind his hand. 

As he got the drinks all together over the next twenty minutes, he lost himself in the tasks and even managed to momentarily forget about the familiar faces at the table by the window across from the pick up counter. When Bradley set down the drinks and called their names, Max yet again came up, but was accompanied by Bobby this time. They were talking in hushed tones, but both gave him a friendly grin as they grabbed their drinks, bidding him thanks. 

Bradley nodded, “Of course. Have fun on your dates.” He teased a little and then ducked into the back, hearing Bobby snort faintly in the background. None of that was his business anymore though because Bradley wanted to finally take his break and he was going to force Jerry to actually do something useful today. 

“Jerry, I’m taking my lunch break!” He filled out the little break form and ushered Jerry towards the doors back into the main area. “I’ll figure out the back up espresso machine after, but it's your turn out there.” He watched as Jerry grumbled and complained to himself, but didn’t argue as much as he usually would. 

Bradley didn’t know when they left, but by the time Bradley had given up with the machine and finished his lunch, returning to the main area, they were gone. He had some mild concerns about Monday when he would see them again, but overall was deciding to try and let the mindset of ‘whatever happens happens’ take over, like Mrs. Coleman had once suggested. A small part of him was curious about whether Goof’s date went well, but he pushed those thoughts far away too. The weird feeling in his chest and stomach was not worth having.