I wake up in the morning with a pounding headache, an aching nose, and the pain in my knee back. Groaning groggily, I sit up in my bed, running a hand through my matted hair. How did I let myself get so messed up last night?

"Hey, PJ? Can you-" I stop myself, remembering him and Bobby don't live in the same room as me anymore. 

Even as crowded as it was with all three of us in one dorm room, I can't help but miss the fun times we had when we weren't tripping over dirty clothes and random pizza boxes.

I slowly get out of bed and head to the bathroom for some water, but with my luck, my knee buckles and gives out underneath me. I fall to the floor with a thud, whining in defeat and not bothering to get up.

Not even a minute into waking up and this day already sucks.

I can't even sulk on the floor for a while before someone knocks on my door.

"Just open the door," I grumble into the floor. There's a click, then light bleeds into the room and cruelly blinds me. I wave lazily at whoever just came in. "Ugh, close the door behind you."

There's a brief pause before the person speaks. "You look and smell like death, Goof."

The blood in my body runs cold at the sound of the voice. 

Could it be...? No, of course not. Why would he even be here?

"Who are you?" I ask, sighing in exhaustion.

I hear the person walk closer to stand beside me. "I've gotta say I'm disappointed you don't recognize me by voice." 

I turn over onto my back with a sharp exhale, realizing it is indeed him. Bradley hovers over me with a look of repugnance, crossing his arms.

"What do you want?" I ask, raising a tentative brow.

"I want..." He trails off, almost looking embarrassed. "I want you to teach me to be a better person."

I blink in confusion and stand up, shifting my weight to the uninjured leg. "Huh? You want me to teach you to 'be a better person'?"

Bradley looks away awkwardly, pulling at the threads of his magenta sweater. "When... when I saw that... innocent look you always have last night when I was planning on hurting you... I realized that you're genuinely a good guy, and... I want to be one, too."

I blink again, not knowing how to answer. "Honestly... I don't really remember last night at all..."

"I knew I shouldn't have asked..." He huffs and heads to the door.

Unconsciously, I grab his forearm to stop him. "Wait... I'll help you."

He stares at my hand on his arm for a moment, and I let go sheepishly. "What's in it for you, freshman?"

I pause, not actually knowing why I'm agreeing to this. "Uh... I just think everyone would benefit from you being more tolerable."

Bradley looks me up and down judgmentally before heading to the door. "Meet me at the pavilion in the dorm courtyard in fifteen minutes."

"But it's a Saturday!" I yell after him, watching as he saunters down the hall like some princess.

He doesn't even bother to look back while yelling, "Fifteen minutes!"

I whine deliriously and slam the door shut, wincing at the loud thud.

Why did I agree to this?

~*~*~

"What the hell is that... abomination?" Bradley asks incredulously as I arrive at the small pavilion.

I look down at my Powerline shirt then back up at him. "It's a great t-shirt. What're you talking about?"

He snorts in a hubristic manner. "That guy went out of style the moment he produced music."

"Take that back," I snap, pointing at him.

Bradley pushes my hand to the side with a scowl. "Get your mangy hand out of my face. I will do nothing of the sort."

"I guess you've failed you first lesson, then."

I begin to walk off, but Bradley grabs me by the shoulder. "Hey, you said you'd help me. Now do it."

Brushing his hand off, I lean against one of the pillars of the pavilion. "Fine. First thing you need to learn is basic human kindness."

"I'm kind," he grumbles, looking away from me.

I look around at the people in the courtyard before my eyes land on a jumping girl. She reaches for the Frisbee stuck in a tall tree, but she's too short to grab it. Looking back at Bradley, I point at the struggling girl.

"Help her get the Frisbee," I say commandingly.

He cocks a brow and gestures wildly to his top half. "Tch. And what, ruin my cashmere sweater? As if. This thing costs more than your college tuition."

"Bradley."

He groans theatrically, trudging toward the tree and the girl. I watch as he speaks to her briefly then reaches into the tree, nabbing the Frisbee from the withholding branches. She smiles almost nervously and says something to him, which he returns with a slight nod before marching back over to me.

He crosses his arms when he lands in front of me, looking irritated. "There. Done."

"What'd you say to her?" I ask, peering over at the girl, who seems a bit discombobulated.

Bradley huffs impatiently. "I told her to not be such a dumbass next time then got her the stupid Frisbee."

"Dude, the point of that exercise was to be nice to her, not make her feel bad about herself. Now, go apologize for being a dick."

He mutters to himself for a moment then plodded back over to the girl. She stops to look at him mid-throw, clearly expecting him to insult her again. He says something to which her face lights up, so I'd count that as a win.

When he comes back, I pat him on the back in congratulations. Bradley stumbles forward and shoots me a nasty glare, not predicting for me to slap him so hard.

"I did it... and again, keep your mangy hands to yourself." He dusts off his fuzzy sweater in disgust.

"I knew you could be less insufferable," I say cheerfully. "You've just passed your first lesson."

His eyes seem to light up for a moment before going back to normal.

Huh, must've been the sunlight.

"I did?" he asks slowly, a hint of hope in his tone.

I nod in satisfaction. "As long as you keep being nice, you're already a fifth of the way done with our lessons of learning better self-control and thoughtfulness."

He gives me his signature smirk and leans against the nearest pillar. "I must admit, you're a better teacher than I thought you would be, Goof."

"All I did was tell you to be nice and you did," I say pointedly.

"Don't ruin this."

I give him a small smile before sitting down at the rusty picnic table in the middle of the pavilion. Both of us survey the expanse in front of us in peace, a silent agreement between both of us to just be quiet and enjoy the nature around us. A yellow butterfly flies by and lands near Bradley, who acknowledges it for a moment then looks back at the courtyard. 

A few moments later, he glances over at the small butterfly again, seemingly mesmerized by it. His eyes dart about its features, a small flicker of innocence on his face. I rest my head on my hands, drawn to this side of him. I've never seen him focus on something so thoughtfully.

The butterfly inches closer to Bradley's outstretched hand, but of course, I cough from dehydration, and it flees. He scowls at me but then seems to think better of it, a rose tint of embarrassment appearing on his cheeks.

"You don't have to be ashamed of being vulnerable," I say, looking away from him.

He shifts against the pillar, tugging at his fuzzy sleeves. "Vulnerability is what gets you killed in this world. My father always told me as a child that you're either predator or prey... and I'd rather be the predator."

I hum in response, processing his words as I study the landscape in front of us. "To be a good person is to be honest with yourself in the first place. You won't find much joy in life by being so defensive all the time."

"Who needs joy when I'm at the top of the food chain?" Bradley asks sharply. Before I can answer, he disappears down the sidewalk at a hurried pace.

He's a strange man.

"Our lessons resume on Monday!" I yell after him. He starts to walk at a more hurried pace, clearly self-conscious about this whole situation.

I rest my elbow against the table, running a hand through my hair tentatively. 

Could I really help him be better? Why am I even helping him at all?

"Max!"

I glance over in the direction of the voice and see PJ and Bobby skating up to me. Waving to them in greeting, I stand up from my seat, supporting myself with the surface of the table.

As they skate up, PJ looks over my shoulder at Bradley's retreating figure. "Why were you talking to him?"

"No reason," I say with a small shrug, standing up fully and putting less weight on my leg.

Bobby looks down at my injured knee then back up at my face. "You should get that checked out, man. I'm telling you."

I smile weakly at him, shifting to equally stand on both legs. God, the pain is excruciating, but I'm not going to a doctor.

"I'm good, dude. Don't worry about me."

"So, you're alright?" PJ asks with raised brows.

Why did you have to ask that?

I grit my teeth, flashing them a fake grin. 

"Yeah. I'm alright."