I.

The first time Kenny Arthurs hears about Dante Sanders, he's fifteen years old. It's winter and the air is cold, harsh on his nose and cheeks even with the classroom windows closed. The heater is broken and his scarf scratches at his throat, but Kenny barely notices. He's too busy laughing at something his friends are saying.

Unsurprisingly, the class is busy not doing work while the teacher is out to collect the homework she had left in the staffroom. Kenny twirls a pencil between his fingers, his feet propped up on his table. His books are pushed to the side and his pencil case, half-open with a packet of gum peeking out of one corner is hanging precariously over the edge of his desk. Vicky Holmes, his childhood best friend and grade darling is leaning on the back of her chair, her palms under her chin .

Nathan Goodwin, on the other hand is wedged next to him, complaining loudly about the cold. “So,” he says, when Vicky finishes her story about a misunderstanding at her workplace. “Have you guys heard about that guy?”

“That guy?” Vicky leans forward further and her neatly plucked brows shoot up. Kenny knows that look.

In fact, he's all too familiar with the expression of excitement on her face. “Which guy?” he stops twirling the pencil and looks from Vicky's face to Nathan before settling back on Vicky. The red-head flips her hair over her shoulder and opens her mouth to speak but Nathan beats her to it by a second.

“Dante Sanders,” He lowers his conspiratorially and Vicky kicks her feet excitedly. Kenny raises an eyebrow.

“Who?”

“Dante Sanders,” Vicky repeats. “Literally everyone knows who he is.”

“Literally everyone,” Nathan mimics and Vicky screws her face up in mock-disdain. The tall brunette laughs. “No, but seriously. How haven't you heard about him yet?”

“Gossip doesn't usually make it down to the sports oval,” Kenny says and swats at Nathan's hand when he reaches for the gum in his pencil case. Nathan makes a sound of indignation but he doesn't try again. Most of the other kids who spent their lunch breaks down on the grassy fields practising alone or with their team-mates usually heard about school affairs last and even then, most didn't care. Their priorities were elsewhere, as was the usual case with Kenny. His two friends often made it their mission to fill him in.

“Okay, fair enough,” Nathan concedes, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But you must have at least heard something on the news.”

Vicky pounds her fist on Kenny's desk and a few kids look their way before resuming their own conversations. “He sent some kid to the hospital!”

“He was on the news?”

As if on cue, both Nathan and Vicky take his hands simultaneously. Kenny gives a loud groan. Not this again.

“Kenny,” Vicky says solemnly.

“Have you been living under a rock?” Nathan asks, equally as solemn.

Every time, Kenny thinks. This happens every time. I never learn. He looks desperately at the classroom door but their teacher doesn't magically arrive to restore order in the classroom and consequently force his friends to leave him alone.

“Why don't you just tell me?”

The two look at each other for a moment and Kenny tries to pull his hands out of their grasps. They look away to fix him with a steady stare but they don't loosen their grip. He almost rolls his eyes. He knows they're going to tell him either way.

Finally, Vicky speaks. “So apparently he's got a really bad temper.”

“They say he's always getting into fights, but like, not just with kids at his school.”

“For some reason other schools keep getting involved with him.”

“On the news, there was this kid with a javelin sticking out of his thigh, right? It was gross as hell, but the kid said that it was Dante Sanders,” Nathan pauses, then adds. “The teacher in charge said it was an accident, though, and that the kid who was hurt shouldn't have been where they were practising in the first place.”

“Right,” Kenny says. He's not sure what to think about this Dante Sanders, but he figures the guy probably isn't as bad as the rumours paint him to be. If he was as bad as they made him out to be, he probably wouldn't be at school. He lets his friends know as much. “I've never even met him, so I don't really know what to think,” he adds.

As usual, Nathan and Vicky look vaguely disappointed at his lack of interest. Kenny doesn't blame them. But they move the conversation along to something more along the lines of how Kenny's baseball team was going and soon, Kenny forgets all about Dante Sanders.

After all, he seemed far too distant.

Just a boy on a pedestal with a crown of rumours.

–

“Hey Alex, what happened to your face?”

“Yeah, you look uglier than usual.”

Kenny shoves his baseball team's captain half-heartedly, and the older boy holds his hands up in an equally half-hearted attempt to fend his team-mate off. “Leave him alone, Ben.”

The captain sighs deeply, pretending to be hurt. Kenny isn't fooled by the fake tears shining in his blue eyes.

“Seriously though,” Ben says when Alex doesn't answer. He ruffles his hair affectionately. Though Alex is only fourteen years old and Ben is already sixteen, the two are close. From what Kenny had gathered, they had been neighbours for as long as they could remember, just like him and Vicky.

Alex's dark brown curls are abundant and unruly, flopping over his forehead and obscuring his eyes, but he makes no move to brush it out of his face. It's a wonder he can still see. His face scrunches as he huffs and moves his head to the side. Ben takes the hint and lets his hand drop. “What's with the black eye?”

The rest of the team feign indifference, some throwing balls between them idly and others pretending to tie their shoelaces or inspect the bats in their hands, but the eyes darting in their direction are a dead give-away. They're all crammed in the school gym's dressing room. It's almost impossible not to be heard. Alex, they can all tell, is embarrassed. For a long moment, both Kenny and Ben wonder if they're going to get an answer.

“...I...” he clears his throat. “I got punched in the face yesterday.”

“By who?” Kenny sounds bewildered and Ben folds his arms over his chest with a frown.

“You're like, five, why would anyone want to fight you?”

“He's only a year younger than me, Ben, shut up,” one of the other boys calls from the far back of the room. “Who was it, Alex?”

“Does no one here respect their elders?” Ben mutters but he shuts up and lets Alex speak.

“It wasn't really my fault,” he says and he sounds defensive. No one responds but a few eyebrows go up. “Me and some of the guys in my grade were just hanging around at the park last night. We left some rubbish and this guy told us to pick it up.”

“And?”

“Matt, you know, that annoying short guy in my class, told him that it wasn't ours but the guy said we better pick up the rubbish or he'd make us.”

Ben runs a hand over his face.“And he punched you in the face because you wouldn't pick up your rubbish?”

“No, well. I kinda pushed him a bit and then told him to fuck off,” Alex bitterly touches his right eye. The skin around it is stained with an ugly yellow-purple bruise. “Then he punched me in the face and told me to learn some manners.”

“Did you get his name?” another team member asks. He's still crouching but he hasn't finished doing up his shoelaces, obviously distracted by Alex's story.

“Yeah. His friend said it would do me some good to remember it.”

Ben impatiently props his foot up on the bench holding their bags. “So? What's his name?”

“Dante Sanders.”

Almost all at once, the space is filled with the buzz of surprised voices. There's still a few, “Wait, who's Dante Sanders?” but mostly, Kenny hears the words, “What the hell is that guy's problem?” and “Alex got punched in the face by Dante?!”. The captain's frown which hadn't left his face since Alex started talking only deepens.

“You alright?” Kenny asks him. He doesn't know why. It's not like Ben's the one who got punched in the face.

“I'm fine,” he says. He watches as Alex receives a few thumps on the back and sympathetic words then turns to grin at Kenny. “I was just thinking about that Dante guy. I keep hearing the name so I guess he's some kind of big-shot now.”

“Probably.”

“Well, he sounds like trouble, but if he taught that punk some manners then I guess I owe him one,” Ben laughs and Kenny laughs with him. “The little shit deserved it anyway.” They each pick up a bag full of equipment with ease and the team finally release Alex to follow suit.

This time, Kenny doesn't forget about Dante Sanders.

–

Vicky cries when Kenny tells her and Nathan, and his team, that he has to move schools. Alex cries too, but he trying to hide it behind his sweater sleeve. Kenny pretends he can't see his shoulders heave when he hiccups his tears back. Ben's knuckles are going white as his grip tightens on his baseball bat. The rest of the team looks at him solemnly.

Kenny had called them all to school's grass oval during the lunch break. It's getting hotter and the sun beats down on them.

“Do you really have to move?” Nathan asks quietly. He's staring at his shoes and he knows this is already the fifth time he's asked. Kenny nods, even though he can see that Nathan isn't looking at him. He swallows and it hurts.

“Yeah.”

His voice is strained.

Vicky hiccups with Alex.

“Mum just can't afford the house with Dad moving out, and she doesn't want to go back to Thailand while I'm still studying here,” Kenny explains again and the team nods. They're quiet; understanding, just like they were the first time he told them. Saying it again doesn't really make it seem more real. Alex looks torn between being furious and devastated.

“It sucks,” he says and his voice is rough from crying. “You're gonna leave us here alone to play baseball with Ben until he graduates.”

“Hey!” Ben almost drops the bat and Kenny lets out a sputtering laugh. “What do you mean 'us'? Who else has a problem me?”

“Everyone,” Vicky sniffs but her eyes are shining with something other than tears now. Ben huffs and turns to Kenny again. Kenny is glad to see the colour slowly returning to his hand.

“So, you're moving to Calvary Rise, was it?”

“Yeah, Calvary Rise,” he confirms with another nod. “It's kind of a long way off, but I'll still try to visit. Make sure the team isn't sinking without me and all.”

Ben grins and Kenny returns it crookedly. “Maybe we'd still have hope if you can manage to convince Goodwin here to join.”

“Never,” Nathan promises, his expression serious, and everyone laughs, despite themselves. Kenny is grateful for it but he knows that he will miss this. It sends a sharp pang through his chest but he doesn't let himself cry. Not here.