“Then let’s be the bad guys. Let’s be the villain in their history! I lost, if I do nothing— if I do nothing, nobody cares. We fade into obscurity. They have this—this study group, and I’m nothing, I’m just some guy who wasn’t right for it and left. But if we fuck them up—“

“Wilbur— I don’t, I don’t—“

“No, listen, Tommy. We could leave a mark on the school. Make them fucking listen to us. I say, if I can’t be a part of what they’re doing, they don’t get to do it. They don’t get to—erase me.”

“Wilbur…”

“You think— you think everyone’s on your side, Tommy. Nobody’s on your side. Clay? Toby? Alex? They’d sell you out in a heartbeat. They don’t give a shit about you. Nobody gives a shit about you! You’ll see. Watch. I’m going to ask Clay to fuck you over, just like Eret asked Clay to fuck us over, and he’s going to say yes, just like he said yes to Eret. Nobody cares about you, Tommy. That’s not— that’s not a challenge, or a threat, or something you can— overcome. It’s a fact. It’s true. Nobody in here cares.”

“That doesn’t— Toby has supplies for you, man.”

“Yeah? And what about Schlatt? He gave some to Schlatt, right, he’s been doing some of Schlatt’s homework?”

“…Yeah.”

“Right. He’s playing both sides. And don’t get me wrong! That’s smart, he’s being smart! You keep everyone on your good side, that’s smart. And I’ll take whatever he gives me. But it doesn’t mean anything.”

“I don’t think— I, no, Wilbur, you’re being insane.”

“I’m not insane, Tommy. I’ve— I’ve never seen things this clearly in my fucking life. And you know what I see, I see a world that doesn’t give a shit, but you know what else I see? I see that I don’t have anything to lose. This is it! This is rock bottom! Nothing matters, we can do what we want!”

“Great! I don’t want to do this! I want you to— to come back to the study group, man, we can still do this, I mean, what’s Schlatt going to do about it, he’s just annoying, man, we miss you—“

“You don’t get it. You still don’t get it. I’m not going where they don’t want me. —We’re here.” He pushes the door open and lets it slam behind them. Clay looks up from where he’s measuring ingredients— good, that’s good, he has his attention. Now to keep it. 

He keeps his head high, walks with confidence. “Clay. Hello. I have a proposal.”

“…Hello. I—um.” There isn’t a polite way to ask this, is there. “Why are you here, you hate me.”

“I did! I did hate you.” Wilbur laughs. “I didn’t— I didn’t understand. I understand now. I get it! You were just— being smart. Taking a trade. So I have—another trade.”

“What do you want?”

“What— you can’t actually be thinking of giving it to him.”

“Something— fire? Explosives? Blunt force? The more destructive the better.”

“Mm. And what do I get for it?”

“Whatever you want that I have.” He puts his hand on Clay’s chest, over his heart; he pushes his mana from himself to Clay, a steady stream until there isn’t any more, just his hand and Clay’s breathing and Clay’s heartbeat. It probably isn’t very much at all to Clay, but it’s not about that, not really, it’s about the symbol. “That’s all I have. Had. Yours now.”

“What the hell, Wilbur, you need that— Clay, give him his mana back—”

“I don’t think I will.” Clay touches his chest where Wilbur’s hand had been just a moment ago. It’s still warm. 

Wilbur laughs, laughs and punches the air. “See! See, Tommy, it’s exactly like I said.”

"Wilbur-- Clay-- this, this isn't right, what are you doing?"

"I'll be--agreeing to help, actually. You can... feel free to stay out of it."