Uh - no. Because this is the guy who was in the chess club but dropped out because everyone else was an inferior intellect. He read a lot of Heinlein and Rand and studied Latin because he admired the Romans. He made one big pitch for the homecoming queen, and to everyone’s surprise she said yes - she thought he was interesting, really, not shallow at all like the other guys. That’s what she said, but she was really trying to get back at her boyfriend. At the end of the date he produced a piece of paper that had 12 reasons why they should be together and mate, and when she laughed he was confused. He’d expected gratitude and expressions of devotion. When she kept laughing, he got mad. When she told him to grow up, and stop talking nonsense, he felt something click inside, and it was not entirely unpleasant. She said he should be happy she’d gone out with him, because all the other girls thought he was a creep, and she was starting to see what they meant. Take me home.

He did. It took all his powers of concentration, but he’d been working on those. For a few miles he felt stupid, thinking how he’d worn his special Aquaman trunks with the coin-pocket he’d personally installed - his design, made logical sense, since even aquatic cultures would have a medium of exchange. By the time he dropped her off he was cool. He was calm. He felt focused in a way few would understand. Nietzsche, perhaps.

Mom was passed out when he got home. He turned off the TV, checked to make sure there wasn’t a burning cigarette in her lap, then went into his room and closed the door. He stripped down to his Aquaman trunks, got out a matchbook and an awl he’d bought to get the Eagle Scout badge in leather-making. He heated the point of the awl with the matches, got out the latest Spider-Man - the one where Gwen breaks up with Peter - and burned out her eyeballs in every picture.

Now when he looked at the pictures he knew she was looking at him.