Summery1: "You're a damn traitor, Double D!" "But Eddy!" "Forget those dorks, Double D…."

Summery2: Edd ends up tutoring Kevin during the summer. Eddy isn't happy that Kevin is taking up all of Double D's time. Edd doesn't know what to do. Stupid Post-Its.

Warning: Ahh;;, I'm so asking for my first ever flames in writing this. This story contains Shonen ai! Which means Boy+boy! However, I'm actually doing anime version shonen ai in that you can just pretend it isn't there! So don't go too wacko. ….Until that changes to fic-shonen ai. I dunno if it will or not yet. WE SHALL SEE!

Notes about the story: I have no idea what brought this on. I usually stay away from American-style work because people are a lot more touchy about slash. Oo scary. But I got this great idea…and I'm running with it. Hopefully, I'll outrun those flamethrowers. This is NOT just a romance! This is about Double D, its in his pov…and, well, its hard to explain, just read.

Double Dork

Chapter 1

Have you ever saw a plot so often that it becomes cliché? You can sit in the darkened theater or turn crisp new pages and you can predict every single complication that will occur. It makes you want to strangle the author for not coming up with something original. Not to mention how boring it becomes. This is my world in the cul-de-sac. Everyday here has little variation from the day before. I get up, make my bed with the aid of my ruler to make sure every line of the sheet is exact, shower, dress, folding my dirty pajamas before putting them in the hamper, fix my breakfast, usually a banana and a bowl of Healthy Nut, wash the dishes, then do my chores. My chores are in the form of post-it notes. Sometime while I am floating in the world of REM they appear in various places throughout the house from my parents.

That is how we communicate. Post-it notes. The only time that changes is when there is something very important to say. Like moving, for example. That information came in the form of a whole sheet of white, typing paper signed by both my parents. I hate typing paper. It's so informal. So are Post-it notes, I suppose. They are a lot more of a slap-dash type of communication. "Hi! I'm on my way out the door but that's okay because I love you enough to wait twenty seconds to stick a Post-it on the refrigerator!" What's wrong with using normal paper? They can use little magnates to put them on the refrigerator. Maybe a smiley-face magnate when they're happy, or a banana when they're feeling silly.

With the amount of post-its copulating throughout my house it almost appears as though my parents are in competition in how many post-its in their name they can create. This morning there were 174 post-its total. Father had 80 while my Mother had the remaining 94. Father must have been in a hurry this morning to be so far behind. However, Mother is beating my Father in overall score by 64 Post-its.

This is the kind of thing I thought about before moving here. It's sad, I know. However, I had to think about something. There are only so many times I can count the number of dots on the wallpaper. I have counted them all. There were six thousand, three hundred and three and four halfs. The fraction comes from the dots that are cut off by the ceiling or floor.

Before my move I had no friends. Obviously, if I had time to count dots. I was viewed as strange and uncomfortable to be around because of the way I act and talk. I suppose a word that could have described their view of me is 'snooty.' They thought because of the way I talk, much to eloquent for my age, that I thought I was better than them. The problem with being so smart is that often shyness is mistaken for arrogance. I'm not the type of person to just walk up to the first person I see and start up a conversation.

"Salutations good citizen! Isn't this a wonderful day for the development of some lovely cirrus cloud formation?"

Good citizen? What am I, a cliché-d superhero? At the very least I'd be stuffed in a trashcan somewhere for talking like that. It's not like I try to sound superior. I get nervous when I talk to new people and I suppose to compensate for my lack of confidence I would end up showing off my intelligence. It's a self-esteem thing.

I packed everything neatly for the move. When the movers arrived all the boxes where organized alphabetically and by type. I was just getting ready to reorganize them again by size when the moving truck arrived. They told me they had gotten a message from my parents that they had to be in meetings all day and they were going to catch a night-train to arrive overnight. So I got to ride with the movers.

It was unnerving, but they were very kind. I suppose they felt sorry for me, having to move to a whole new town all by myself. They even offered to treat me to lunch when we took a rest-stop. I politely declined. I had made my own lunch that morning. I don't trust the food at truck-stops. The entire place is filthy, and if they don't even bother to wipe down the counters properly who knows what they do to their food. Or don't do. The thought gives me the shivers.

It was late when we finally arrived at the new house. We were all tired and they only unloaded my mattress so I could sleep on something that night. Only I didn't sleep. I spent the rest of the night measuring the house.

The movers were quite surprised to find the next morning that I knew exactly where everything should go. I felt uncomfortable giving them orders, so I had written out directions and even done a sketch of how the rooms should look. Maybe I should have used Post-it notes. Guess I'm more like my parents than I knew. While they were working I took a shopping list and tried to find the local grocery mart. I decided I needed to repay the movers for their kindness and make them lunch. I made a type of cold stew since I didn't have all the kitchen implements I needed. They liked it and even helped me unpack some of the boxes before they had to leave for their next job.

Unfortunately, the move was in the middle of summer. I don't which would be worse, moving in the middle of the school year or the middle of summer. Both times are the worst for trying to make friends and fit in. Summer would be better, I suppose, because I was able to keep myself busy for a month. Locked in my house is another way of putting it. There were lots of kids in the neighborhood. I would watch them out my window occasionally, but they all seemed to have a place, and I didn't want to intrude.

I couldn't stay in the house forever. For one thing I needed to go get groceries.

Ah, the necessary evil of living. Eating and sleeping. Both necessary but seemingly pointless. Imagine how much you could get done if you didn't have to stop for sleep or nutrition. Imagine that within the countless hours spent unconscious that during that time we could have invented Cold Fusion, or a cure for common cold! It is unfortunate.

What is also unfortunate is how I forgot to add into my calculations my self-appointed house-arrest. After remaining locked in my house for so long the idea of venturing out into the outside world was most alarming. I had not familiarized myself with my new environment, too unnerved by the thought of making a fool of myself to my fellow peers. The only landmark I knew was that of the grocery mart where I had ventured my first day to procure sustenance for the movers. At least I knew where I was going, since that was my destination this time. However, I would have to set aside time in the near future to explore my new neighborhood.

When I finally gathered enough courage to leave my house it was mid-afternoon. The trip to the grocery mart was silent. I held the grocery list tight between my hands and walked quickly, my head down. Once inside the grocery mart I felt a little more at ease. At least here I had some business.

"ED! Be quiet!" My head swiveled around automatically to the sound of my name. A girl maybe a year or two younger than me stood at the other end of the aisle yelling at the elder boy. He had to be several years older than I, given his height. Great, there was another Ed in town. That could make things awkward. Would they hate me because I had taken name from one of their own? They probably wouldn't care at all, just leaving me to my own devices. That was fine, I was used to being alone. The new house had some interesting wallpaper. The one in the dining room had a border of leaves. I could probably count how many there were. So I'm bitter, I'm allowed to be.

Throughout my mental diatribe I had not realized that I had failed to move my gaze away from the pair. The girl looked up and stared me straight in the eye. Oh my, so this is how a deer feels when it sees headlights. I blushed, grabbed the baking soda, and hurried away.

Oh good going, I thought to myself as I headed for the register. Not only have I no friends but I have successfully alienated the first kids I've come across. Eavesdropping! They must think of me as terribly rude! I could have walked up and introduced myself, could have explained that I simply heard my name and had turned around, but noo! I had to make a fool out of myself, as always.

For someone so smart I really am an idiot.

Just as I was leaving with my purchase something slammed into me, knocking me to the ground.

"What the hell!" a harsh voice yelled. I flinched.

"Ha! That's what you get, dork!" Not even introduced and I'm already labeled. I love my life.

"Hey! Say that to my face!" Wait… I didn't say that. Finally, I looked up to realize that the insult had not been directed at me. It had to be a first. Instead, there were two kids about my own age. One was on a bike, obviously the one who had declared the insult. He wore a backwards cap with a few wisps of red hair jutting out. His expression could only be generously described as perturbed as he jeering at the one who had ran into me. "I just did! Dork!" the kid laughed. Wonderful, a bully. Hopefully he'd be too focused on the other boy to pay any attention to me. For once, I lucked out. With a parting sneer, the boy swung a leg over his bicycle and rode away.

"Stupid jerk," the other kid muttered, brushing himself off. I had been afraid to focus on the other boy. I was already shaken from the abrupt violation of my personal space. Yet another great introduction to my new home.

'Hey, you meet the new kid?'

'What new kid?'

'You know, that one kid. Never comes out of his place. Must be afraid of the sunlight or something.'

'I saw him, he was spying on my brother and I. Probably a pervert.'

'He ran into me. Didn't even apologize, the little jerk.'

Wait, I hadn't apologized, had I? Oh dear, that's twice today that my nerves have overwhelmed proper etiquette. I couldn't apologize now, could I? Well, better late than never, as I always say. I don't always say that, actually. I don't even remember ever hearing it before. I wonder if we are born with a list of sayings and cliché's so we know what to expect in the world.

"Sorry," I so eloquently mumble to the ground. I'm apologizing to concrete now. What's next? Asking trees for the time of day? I must be going insane. Well, I counted over six thousand dots on the wall in my last home, so I can't be quite sane as it is.

"Hey, you alright?"

I looked up. "Pardon?"

"Com'on," he grabbed my hand and jerked me to my feet. Um. Ow. I think he pulled a muscle. "Sorry about that. Kevin's a jerk."

I said nothing. I had already shown off my brilliant social skills, I'm just going with the flow now.

"My name's Eddy," he volunteered. I looked up in surprise. Two Eds? What are the odds of that? It is a common name, I suppose. "What's your name?"

"Um. My name is Edd. With two 'd's…" I added. People often spelled it wrong, it's a pet peeve of mine.

"Edd with two 'de's, huh? You're an Ed too? That's awesome! That makes three of us! And you know what they say about threes!"

I searched despairingly, feeling the situation was distinctly out of my control. "…That three's a crowd?" Eddy stared at me for a moment before bursting out laughing. He slung an arm around my shoulders. Personal space being invaded again. I don't move. "You're funny. I like you. I was thinking more of the Three Musk-rats or whatever, but still…"


"That's it! Here, wait a moment and I can introduce you to our last Ed. He just has to finish up with his sister before we can go."

I felt myself flush slightly. We? I felt much loathed hope surge within me. Funny? Musketeers? I have absolutely no idea how to react to any of this. This deviated so completely with my previous experience with my peers that I felt as though the ground had been pulled out from beneath my feet. I looked down and behold, the ground still remained. A little cracked, but solid. I wonder how many cracks there were. Eddy was talking animatedly somewhere to my left, his words somewhere beyond where I was.


At that moment, the doors to the grocery mart opened. I didn't pay much attention until Eddy raised his voice. "Hey! Ed! C'mere!" I glanced up and saw the two kids from before. Eddy removed his arm and waved.

The tall Ed promptly dropped his bags and ran over. His sister screamed, "ED! Come back here!" His sister. Oh dear, oh dear. Her gaze caught me and I dropped mine hurriedly. How rude of me to be eavesdropping and how embarrassing to be caught at it. Should I apologize? The decision was made for me when Eddy ignored the girl and pulled Ed over to face me.

"Ed meet Edd-with-two-d's. He's new. Edd-with-two-d's, this is Ed. He's stupid, so don't expect much from him." Well, that was…blunt.

"But Eddy! He can't be Ed cuz I'm Ed!" Ed wailed. I blinked as I saw the boy's face scrunch up like a three-year-old's.

"You've got a point, doofus. I know! We can call you Double D. It'll make it less confusing that way."

Confusing, to say the least. I had absolutely no clue over what had just happened. In the last five seconds, I think I gained…friends. I have no idea how it happened. Maybe that was how friendships were supposed to occur. Somehow, it didn't occur to me to protest when I was then dragged away by Eddy. I didn't wince despite the pain in my arm where Eddy had pulled too hard. Even when they later laughed at me when I finally spoke a full sentence, it couldn't quell the strange warmth in my chest. For the first time, it felt like I had belonged.

"Oi! Double D! Don't tell me you're still asleep in there!" Slightly muffed, the sound carried up through my open window, breaking me out of my thoughts. Ah yes, back to the present. Back to focus on the future day. Back to the future. Hm. I wonder how the hover-board works. Would Eddy be interested in making a design to sell to the other kids? Probably, but it would take a lot of time, and for all of Eddy's planning he has zero patience.

Since I met Eddy and Ed my days have been full. Whereas before one day would blur into the next in quiet monotony, each day only brightened by the sun-yellow color of the post-its, or the bright flashes from my chemicals, now they were filled with laughter and surprise. I mentioned that the day had become cliché'd, how everyday was a repeat of the next. Which was true. I could easy predict the outcome of each of our adventures in the cul-de-sac. But it was never boring.

I feared the day would soon come that I would wake up and on the breakfast table I would find a single sheet of plain white, typing paper signed by both my parents.

"Double D!"

"Coming, Eddy!"

End of chapter 1