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    Topher Lydon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Carter's Vanguard - 1. Chapter 1

"Mister Carter, if you would kindly pay attention?" Mister Greenwood called out, snapping Will back from his idle staring out of the window. He flashed the old English teacher a wry grin.

"Sorry sir," he said, adjusting in his chair and trying to focus again on Greenwood's assessment of Shakespeare. It was one of those broiling hot days near the end of the school year when outside seemed suddenly so much more appealing than sweltering indoors.

"Perhaps then, Mister Carter, you would be so kind as to grace us with your thoughts on the subject?" Greenwood was a wily old devil; he knew perfectly well Will hadn't been paying attention in the slightest, now he was out to catch him.

Will smirked; he enjoyed a challenge. He stood up. "It's interesting to read the characters' reactions to the situations they are finding themselves in," he bluffed, knowing full well that Greenwood wasn't so easily deterred.

Grade Eleven English class had been a battleground of wills. Greenwood had been hard on him from the moment he had started it, testing and pushing him; their debates on Conrad had been the stuff epics were written about. And instead of resenting the teacher for the extra pressure he put down on Will, Will appreciated it. Finally he was actually being challenged for a change instead of being allowed to coast.

Greenwood gave him a critical eye, "How so, Mister Carter? Surely Lady Macbeth's ambitions for her husband created the situation in the first place."

"True," Will responded, already getting a grasp on the subject, his mind making connections, "but Lady Macbeth is just acting out her own desires vicariously through her husband. In a man's world, like the setting of this book, she would have no other choice but to seize power through her husband."

"That is an interesting observation," Greenwood said affixing his deep-set eyes on the young man. "Ambition achieved through vicarious actions; I would like you to think long and hard on that one, Mister Carter."

The bell ringing caused Will to smirk. "Perhaps later," he replied, failing utterly to hide his satisfaction that the school day was over. One look at Greenwood told him he had failed to achieve that objective; Will shrugged and gathered up his books.

They were closing in on exam time, the year was almost over, and Will, for one, would be glad when it was. He was getting impatient to move onwards with his life, escape high school and see what university had to offer. He had to keep reminding himself that he still had one more year.

Lisa was grinning like a shark when he came out of Greenwood's class, his books safely stowed away in his book bag as he wound his way down towards his locker which was tucked into the most deserted area of the school.

"Don't tell me," he said looking down at himself. "I don't match."

Lisa gave him an appraising look, "You always match, Will; I personally think you spend your entire weekend co-ordinating outfits." She stood aside as a group of freshmen ran past, whooping and hollering about it being Friday.

Will watched them go past and shook his head, "I was never that small."

"You're still small," Lisa replied as they walked down the stairs into the school basement. "Well, more... annoyingly thin."

"I work out!" he said defensively as they reached his locker which still bore the patch-up job Brody had done for him nearly two years ago. He banged the door open and began to collect his homework.

"You do not!" she retorted, resting on the bank of lockers. "But you must be excited."

Will pushed his reckless hair out of his eyes and gave her a slow smile. "I'm no more excited than I was this morning," he replied matter-of-factly. He sighed as he considered taking his jacket home with him. It was warm and he was going to walk, so he might as well leave it. He closed the locker to see her beaming at him, her pale elfin face grinning from ear to ear.

"You can't lie to me, William Carter," she said, her deep green eyes glittering. "I know you too well."

"Yes, much to my dismay," Will said, hefting his book bag to his shoulders. "Are you coming?"

She grinned at him and adjusted his tie. "How was teaching this morning?" she asked, hoping that by changing the subject he would be distracted when she switched it back.

Will nodded. "Being called Mister Carter by a class of seventh-graders will take some getting used to," he admitted. "But I'm being supervised by Mrs. Casey so it's going well." They walked out of the smoking doors that had once been the domain of a certain rebel.

Will had to admit he quite enjoyed the co-operative education program he was part of. It was designed to give him real work experience, and the guidance counselor had gotten it into his head that Will would make a good English and history teacher. Will loved being typecast before he had so much as stepped a foot inside a college, but he'd accepted and every morning he taught two classes under Mrs. Casey's careful supervision.

"The tie suits you," she said, fussing with it again as they walked across the well-kept green grass that stretched out behind the school leading to the baseball field and the outdoor basketball courts. The sun warmed both of them with the heat of a late afternoon in Canada.

Such a stark difference between the heat of summer and the depths of winter; Will wondered if he would ever get used to it. He stubbornly refused to adjust his wardrobe for winter. He hated shorts and looked silly in long johns and so kept to his slacks-and-shirt regime that had seen him through the last two years.

"When you're quite done," he admonished with a fond smile; Lisa had the usual woman's fascination with ties. It was something strange for them to play with. Will supposed it was probably the same for boys and bras. No, he blushed, that was most definitely not the same thing at all.

Will put his hands into his pockets as they both turned to walk down the hill, and eventually he sighed, "And before you ask me for the hundredth time today, I'm just glad he's coming home."

Lisa beamed at him, "I knew it..."

"You knew it this morning," Will replied matter-of-factly. "I told you when you bribed me with a muffin." He squinted up and down the street as the pair of them crossed the road, climbing the hill towards the house. Will hated this hill; it was impossibly steep, cars always struggled to climb its extreme gradient, and Will had to lean into the tough climb.

Lisa panted as they finally crested the top of the road and looked down on the rest of the town, "You were being stubborn, I had to do something."

"Speaking of stubborn," Will said, broaching a subject he knew she was deliberately avoiding.

"I don't want to see him," Lisa replied; there was a finality about her tone that said she didn't want to be questioned on that fact.

Will shrugged; Lisa may have looked like an elfin princess, but she certainly acted like a spoiled one sometimes. He had long ago given up any attempts to sway her mind when she settled on something; she said it was just because she was a typical Taurus. Will just assumed it was because she liked the attention.

"You're going to have to see him eventually," Will observed as they began to climb down the steps towards the main part of town, and he grumbled, sure there were steps on one side of the hill...

She absently ran a hand along the saplings that lined the stairs, brushing their budding leaves with her fingers, looking woefully sad. "I don't think I can," she said as she squared her shoulders. "Besides, I don't want to."

Will nodded, brushing his hair out of his eyes again and taking off his glasses, folding them and tucking them away into his pocket. "It's only because I care about you," he said giving her a concerned look. "And..."

"If you say you think I'm still in love with him, I'll hit you." She lifted a hand threateningly, and Will flinched. She dropped her hand in shock, "I'm sorry Will, I forgot... I just..."

Will recovered from his surprise and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry about it," he said, waving off her apology. "I'm well past it."

They turned into the small cul-de-sac where Brody's house sat on the end, dark and brown--a mirror for the houses surrounding it with their well-maintained lawns and children rushing home from the elementary school up on the corner. Will really liked his neighbourhood; he'd lived there for a year-and-a-half now and he loved it, it was his home.

Lisa stiffened looking at the all-too-familiar truck sitting in the driveway. "I should probably get going," she said, looking nervously at it before she turned to hurry away.

Will turned to follow her with his gaze. "Be careful," he called out to her. "You sure you don't want to come in for a cup of tea..."

She didn't answer him, and vanished from his sight around a bend in the road. Will sighed audibly as he began to start back up the road. While Lisa was in no mood to see Will's landlord, Will on the other hand had no such qualms.

He sauntered through the front door, smiling at the man already dirtying every dish he could get his hands on in an effort to cook supper.

"Hello, hello," Will said, crossing his ankles as he leaned in the kitchen's doorway.

Brody turned, a grin slipping onto his stubbled face. "Hello there, grasshopper," he said, setting a large pizza tray down on top of the stove. "How fares?"

"Well," Will replied, still smiling. It had been nearly five months since Brody had been home for Christmas, and for his part Will had missed the cantankerous old bugger. Living in the house had certainly been quieter, but that also meant a lot less enjoyable. Now Brody was home for the summer things were about to get exciting again.

Brody gave him a measuring look before turning back to preparing his frozen pizza. "You hungry?" he asked, and stopped, turning. "Who am I kidding, you're always hungry."

Will chuckled, "Good to see you, how was the trip?"

"I hitchhiked," Brody said with a manic grin. "I got done school, got out of class, stuck out my thumb; it was all an adventure." He grinned, "There was this women's volleyball team..." He held up his thumb appreciatively.

Will shook his head, some things never changed. He walked into the kitchen and flipped open the fridge, bending down to root around in it for a coke. But as his hand closed over the can, he heard the all-too-familiar spluttering of an engine and he couldn't hide the broad grin that spread across every inch of his face. He forgot the can as he threw open the front door and stood on the doorstep, grinning like a lunatic.

Andrew's black Mustang rumbled into silence as the man of the hour got out. He looked tired, like he had been driving for days; the stubble on his face and rings under his eyes didn't disguise the light that suddenly brightened when he saw Will.

His long, loping strides brought him up to Will; there was no hesitation, no worry that he was out in public, Andrew had never really cared about those sorts of things. He was going to show how he felt and he didn't care if the whole world saw. He wrapped his arms around Will's waist as he buried his face into a hug, lifting up a moment to give Will a soulful kiss.

Will shivered at the intensity of it; he'd missed Andrew and he hated being apart from him, but that was a part of life, and it wasn't going to be forever. Right then he had Andrew and Andrew had him and life could just wait for them for a change.

"See, that wasn't so bad," Andrew's voice cracked with emotion, like he was fighting to hold back tears.

Will sighed, content just to be held by the man he loved. "You look like hell," he said softly. "You should come inside and get some rest..."

"I have to get home," Andrew said, though he made no move to let go. "Mom's expecting me. I just had to see you first."

Will grinned at him. "Plenty of time," he reassured.

Andrew nodded in agreement as he finally stepped back, stopping to pick up the tail of Will's tie. "This I could get used to," he said, taking in Will's attire.

Will shook his head, "Typical guy, always thinking about..."

Andrew grinned at him, "Tomorrow, I'll pick you up for breakfast at Denny's or something." He opened the door to his car, then returned to kiss Will again, holding onto the tie like he would a rope leash. "Very used to this," he observed, and blushed as he got back into the Mustang. "Don't sleep in," he called out, backing the car up onto the street and gunning the engine, Will waving him off.

Will stuck his hands into his pockets, a habit he had picked up from his boyfriend. A year-and-a-half of dating and they both had picked up on each other's mannerisms. Will turned back, nodding to Mrs. Hendle who was tending her roses and looking disapprovingly at him. He ignored her and walked back into his house; even though he was openly gay, some people still gave him 'the look'.

Copyright © 2010 By Christopher Patrick Lydon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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