Lou skipped a stone across the lake, each plop a tiny echo of the day's frustrations. The water was a mirror, holding the fading sky in its glassy grip. The rhythmic sound of the stones hitting the water was oddly soothing.

He sighed, watching the ripples spread and distort the reflection of the blazing sun. It was just like that day, he thought, a flicker of embarrassment warming his cheeks. The day of the "Good Boy" boxers.

The memory hit him like a wave. He could almost feel the phantom outline of those boxers under his white pants – the ones he'd hastily thrown on that morning, hoping they wouldn't be too conspicuous.

He and Evan had come to the lake after school and talked about their day. They were skipping stones and listening to the triumphant plink they made across the calm water. Lou grinned, feeling a small surge of satisfaction. He glanced at Evan, who was already selecting his next projectile, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Beat that, Lou!” Evan challenged, his voice filled with playful bravado.

Lou chuckled, shaking his head. “You're on, buddy.”

They went into a quick tumble of chatter and loose arms, tossing stones, joshing each other. As they sank into their ordinary rhythm of tossing stones and trading jeers, the weariness of the day lifted from Lou's shoulders. The setting sun turned the sky into a mix of orange and lilac, the water coloring and coming alive with the same colors reflected.

“Did you see Maya today?” Evan asked, his voice taking on a wistful tone. “She was looking extra cute in that new jacket.”

Lou rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You and your endless crush on Maya. Seriously, dude, just ask her out already.”

Evan sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the grass with a groan. “I love being platonic… That way she can’t refuse me!”

Lou kicked his buddy in the side. “Come on, man. You're Evan, the class clown. Don't be so shy! What do you mean “I love being platonic”? Maya probably likes you too, go ask her out for all you know.

Evan sat up, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” Lou affirmed. “But hey, even if she doesn't, it's not the end of the world.”

A wavering grin stopped at the hint of melodrama in Evan's eyes. "It would be the end of my world”." He clutched his chest dramatically, feigning a broken heart.

Lou chuckled, shaking his head but unable to hide his smile. "Okay, drama queen. But just think, if Maya rejects you, you'll have more time to focus on becoming the Duel League champion you were born to be. No distractions, just pure, unadulterated training."

Evan's eyes lit up, his melodramatic pose forgotten. "You're right! We're gonna be legends, Lou. Just wait and see."

“Just one more year,” Lou reminded himself, his voice filled with anticipation. “One more year until we get our powers and show them what we're made of.”

For some thrilling and melancholic reasons, Lou felt both excitement and yearning. They'd been playing this moment over and over again in their heads for hours; rehearsing for that day when they would take the arena, and have their powers running through them, facing off against their target with the person they loved most, right by their side.

While they talk about Duel League’s champions they set off towards the bridge, their footsteps light and their laughter echoing through the trees.

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But as they reached the middle of the bridge, a familiar creak echoed through the air. The wood floor creaked ominously below their feet and the atmosphere thickened with unspeakable horror.

Evan, oblivious to the danger, leaned over the railing, his eyes scanning the dark water below. “Hey Lou,” he called out, his voice filled with childlike curiosity. “Think we could find any magical artifacts down there?”

A knot of fear twisted in Lou's stomach; with a sick certainty, he knew this idyllic moment was about to shatter.

Before Lou could answer, a sharp crack split the air. The rotten wood beneath Evan's feet gave way, and he plunged into the dark water below. Lou's heart leaped into his throat. Evan couldn't swim.

Panic seized Lou, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. Just then, he realized a group of their classmates were headed toward the bridge, their laughter was carrying across the water. He glanced at his pristine white pants and remembered what the boxers he had on said on his booty: "Good Boy". Lou's stomach churned with a familiar dread: the fear of ridicule, the constant worry of being the target of the school bullies.

Evan was crying for help while trying to keep his head above water.

Lou's words seemed to catch in his throat until a strangled cry burst forth as his eyes darted from Evan's form which had begun to thrash desperately back and forth in the water, to the figures heading toward the boy on the bridge. "Evan!" He choked out the name, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Evan! Kick your legs! Try to stay afloat! Do not panic!" With each word, it was like he physically pulled the word out and released it to the universe, feeling as though the cold dread that coiled within his innards was slowly stifling all the breath from his lungs.

Evan's head was bobbing above the water, his arms windmilling in a desperate attempt to float a bit longer. His panicked gasps for air were very loud, ringing across the water, which felt like a strong stab of guilt in Lou's chest. "Help me, Lou! Please!" His voice cracked, a desperate plea that sent chills down Lou's spine.

"Paddle!" Lou gasped out the word, his voice barely a whisper. "Arms. Head up!" His eyes squeezed shut against the sight of Evan's terror, each desperate gasp twisting a knife in his gut.

The water churned nastily as Evan's flailing became more erratic. "Lou, I'm going under!" His voice was a strangled sob, the words barely distinguishable amidst the splashing and coughing.

The desperation in Evan's voice pierced through Lou's fear. He cursed under his breath, ripping off his shoes, and dove into the murky water. The cold shock jolted him, but adrenaline propelled him towards Evan. He reached out, grabbed his friend, and kicked him towards the shore.

The echoes of panicked shouts and splashing water drew the crowd of curious classmates to the lake. As Lou and a sputtering Evan collapsed onto the muddy shore, their peers watched in stunned silence.

"Hey Lou what the fuck?" a sneering voice drawled, heavy with feigned surprise. "Why didn't you jump in the water right away?."

Evan, his body wracked with coughs, shot a venomous glare at Lou. His eyes, burning with a cold fury, seemed to sear into Lou's soul. "Seriously, Lou?" Evan spat, the word laced with a mixture of betrayal and disgust. He shoved Lou, a rough push that sent him stumbling backward. "I was drowning on there, and you just stood there like a statue!"

Lou tried to speak, but the words seemed to have withered on his tongue. Shame burst over him like a tidal wave, metallic and bitter against his throat. "I. I didn't." he stuttered, unable to meet Evan's accusing gaze.

A tall boy with greasy hair and a predatory grin stepped forward, his eyes raking over Lou's shivering form. "You didn't what, Lou? Didn't want to get your precious little outfit dirty?"

As Lou scrambled to his feet, his soaked pants clung to his legs, revealing the words "Good Boy" that were embroidered on the boxer. The crowd gasped in shock, their eyes wide with surprise.

A ginger boy, portly and cruel-eyed, let a barking laugh escape before pointing at the soaked rear of Lou's shorts at the words "Good Boy" peaking out from the wet cloth. "Oh my god," he giggled, "look at this! 'Good Boy' Lou didn't want to ruin his fancy underwear!"

The group erupted in a chorus of merciless laughter, each harsh sound a fresh cut against the already bruised ego of Lou. "Maybe you should change that to 'Momma's Boy'," a voice chimed in from the back, dripping with sarcasm.

Evan’s eyes grew wide as he grasped a little of what was going on, with a glance at the scene before him; a hurt flicker of understanding shot over his face. "Wait a minute," he said in a voice lowered to a hush. "Is that what this was about? Your stupid boxers?"

Lou's cheeks burned with shame, a deep crimson that matched the setting sun. Every word, every mocking laugh, felt like a branding iron searing his skin. "I panicked, Evan," he managed to choke out, his voice barely audible above the laughter. "I was stunned! I didn't know what to do."

Evan's expression hardened, the initial flicker of understanding was replaced by a cold, disappointed stare. "You let me drown," he said, each word a hammer blow, "because you were scared of what these guys would think?"

The pain in Evan's voice was almost unbearable. Lou flinched as if he had been slapped, the full weight of his actions crashing down on him. He had let his friend down; that had not been his intention at all, but the fear of humiliation was the root cause. That was a realization too embittering to chew, and he stood there hollow, wracked with ineffectual regret.

Lou stood there shivering and alone, the sound of the river a mournful symphony to his shame. He never felt so minute, so unworthy. At that moment, that label of "Good Boy" seemed like a cruel jest, a farce upon his cowardice. "Evan, please. You don't understand. I didn't want that."

"Wanted to do what? Spoil your precious image?" Evan spat, his voice laced with gritting disdain. "You were more concerned about image instead of saving your best friend. I don't want to see your stupid face ever again. Be gone."

The next day at school was a living hell. And the next day. and the next day. Lou was ostracized, whispered about, and the butt of every joke and insult. Evan wouldn't even look at him. The look of disappointed betrayal in his friend's eyes was a wound that refused to heal.