Carter's Shadow - 10. Chapter 10

He realized he was stalking Blake. Well it wasn't really stalking; he was just doing his best to catch glimpses of the other student in the most innocuous method possible. He would find a bulletin board and pretend to read it, watching as Blake chatted with some of his friends. Or stop to talk to a teammate when Blake would start fishing around in his locker.

Why? Well he couldn't really answer that, it was an insatiable curiosity. A way to see whatever it was Matt had seen. So far West had picked up on no indication whatsoever that the young senior was gay.

Sure Blake was a little effeminate, dressed in a black shirt and black jeans. It wasn't that he was particularly girlish, or outwardly "gay" in that stereotypical manner, not at all. Blake was just a little on the lean side, with sharply intelligent eyes, and a grace to his motions that most guys lacked.

"You thinking of signing up?" Matt asked him, leaning on the bulletin board.

"Huh?" West asked, blinking and turning to his friend.

"Well, you're staring at the sign-up sheet for Women's Junior Softball League," Matt pointed out with a grin. "You know, you have the subtlety of a brick sometimes." He grinned leaning around West to look at where Blake was chatting to a couple of girls leaning on his locker, pushing a hand through his dark brown/black hair and smiling shyly. "Ah, now I see."

"Shut up," West replied, turning a little red.

"Someone should have told you that the newly minted captain of the team, on his first day in 'office' isn't exactly someone that can sneak about without being noticed." Matt grinned, "Besides, he waits till you aren't looking to look at you anyway."

"Right," West bit back folding his arms, "so how am I supposed to find out if you're telling the truth, or just setting me up?"

"Setting you up?" Matt grinned. "So you are interested in Blake."

"I didn't say that..." West backpedaled frantically.

"Uh-huh," Matt grinned at his best friend. "So you want to talk to him?"

"No," West replied adamantly, "I just... I want to figure this out first, ok?"

"Sure," Matt replied, putting up his hands as West grabbed his arm and the two of them started walking back for the lobby, finding their way to one of the tables that spilled out of the cafeteria and filled the area with extra places to sit.

"How about here?" Matt said pulling back a chair and sitting down.

"Hey West," Jenny-Lynn said, as she turned from the next table and smiled prettily as West sat down. She and Mel were sitting eating their lunch, a couple of the cheerleaders around them.

"Hey," West replied, as he glared across to where Matt was sitting smugly leaning back into his chair, as if loving the show that played out in front of him, delighting in West's discomfort.

"Congratulations on becoming captain," she said, bouncing her chair around so she joined their table without invitation. Mel leaned around, still holding her sandwich and wondering how she had suddenly become so much chopped liver.

Matt slid his chair and gestured at the space he had made for her to sit next to him, and Mel rolled her eyes as she joined them at the table. "Yeah, congratulations," Mel said as she sat down.

"Thanks," West replied, reaching up to brush his fingers over the C on his jacket. His mother had done a good job of sewing it on, and it felt strange, like there was this impossible weight attached to a simple patch.

"Brad's still out today," Mel commented idly. "Wonder how he's doing."

West nodded, feeling guilty that he hadn't heard anything from Brad at all; but then he hadn't been home the night before, he had been busy getting his leg humped by his best friend.... He had to try to hide a smirk at the memory of Matt's face when he had...

A sharp kick to his shins made him jump. "Hey!" he commented, banging his knees on the table causing everyone to jump.

"Sorry," Matt replied innocently, and his eyes slid a fraction of a millimetre to the right.

West caught the motion, and as he rubbed his shin he turned slightly to look at Blake who was sitting on the steps to the auditorium with a spiral notebook balanced on his knees writing away furiously.

"You okay?" Jenny asked.

"Yeah," West sat back down. "Asshole over there kicked me."

"You were daydreaming," Matt replied with a grin.

West shook his head, "Yeah, remind me to kick your ass later." He sat forward and frowned to himself; Blake had been heading to the other end of the school, and unless he had changed his mind, there really was no reason for him to have doubled back to sit on the steps.

* * *

"Your homework assignments," Mister Greenwood leaned on his podium, "were disappointing." He held up a stack of papers in his hand. "Morality is a pivotal theme in Shakespeare, and it seems that many of you chose to focus on the relationship in the play. Now, in plays such as Romeo and Juliet and Much Ado About Nothing, the love theme takes the forefront, in this play it's the subplot."

"I disagree." West had said it before he had caught himself.

"Would you care to defend your stance?" Greenwood asked taking a step forward, an eager light in his eyes when he realized a student was actually going to debate him.

"Yes sir," West replied. "Winning the hand of the fair Portia is the whole reason Bassanio asks Antonio for the loan. It is Antonio's fondness of his friend that has him go to Shylock, and start the whole mess in the first place. It is Portia's love for Bassanio that has her acting as a lawyer to protect his mentor... Sure morality is important, but you can't ignore one plot in favour of another."

"I agree," Blake said from further up the auditorium. "The ring given to Shylock in his bachelor days by his wife--when he discovers that Jessica has stolen it and traded it for a monkey, you get to see Shylock in a vulnerable position, more human than just a stereotype. It's an important symbol of his humanity, his ability to love and for him to grieve."

"Interesting;" Greenwood said, "an obscure reference, no more than five lines in the play, but good..." He held up the papers, "So you two have two very strong hypotheses, so I have one further question for you both, why didn't you write that in these papers?"

"I..." West blinked.

"Well..." Blake chewed on his lip.

"And so again we're back to the original statement that these papers were disappointing," Greenwood said with a dry smile. "So I think I am going to give them back to you, pair you all up and let you write your papers again. Consider these," he held up the papers, "a trial run. They say two heads are better than one, let's see you use them."

Jenny-Lynn turned to West expectantly, but West was already up and out of his seat, crossing the floor of partnering-up students who were talking boisterously, trying to find a partner they could work with and have fun doing it.

He capped Blake's aisle in the auditorium, and the young man looked up, his head cocking to one side as he smiled. "Hello, Captain," he said; his voice wasn't accented, he just preferred to pronounce each word fully, carefully, in an educated manner.

"Hey," West replied, leaning to sit on the back of the row of chairs behind him. "I was wondering if you had a partner for this assignment."

Blake contemplated it, his hand pushing closed the cover of his notebook. "I thought you would have teamed up with Jenny-Lynn." Blake nodded across the auditorium where Jenny-Lynn was watching them, talking to Mel.

West glanced over and then back. "Well, it seems you and I have similar thoughts on how this paper should go; maybe we should," he shrugged, "combine our super powers to fight evil."

Blake took off his glasses, folding them as he slipped them into his shirt pocket, resting his hand on the arm of the chair as he smiled, "All right, Captain Condor."

West grinned, "Careful or I may have to start calling you the Gothic Avenger."

"I always wanted to be a plucky sidekick," Blake replied shifting in his seat. "Tonight after school then?"

"I have practice," West said with a shrug, "but after that."

"I suppose I can sit through your practice," Blake mused, adjusting his papers, "though I don't do the pom-pom thing."

West nodded, "Cool, I'll catch you later then."

"Definitely," Blake replied, as West returned to where Jenny-Lynn was talking to Mel.

"What's with that?" Mel asked boldly sitting in his seat.

"We have similar ideas about the play," West replied. "I figure, team up and maybe we can teach old Greenwood a thing or two."

"Oh will you now?" Greenwood pressed the original paper West had written back into his hands, "I look forward to seeing what my two top students will come out with." He handed Mel and Jenny-Lynn their papers, "Though I learned never to discount the X chromosome. " He smiled at the two girls, "Your paper could easily give them a run for their money if you take Mel's feminism ideas and combine them with Jenny-Lynn's traditional values..."

"Hey, isn't that cheating, giving them help like that?" West accused.

"I like them more than you," Greenwood replied with a smile and a wink to the two girls, as he carried on handing out the papers.

West shook his head as he sat back down a seat over from Mel, flipping through his paper and glancing up to where Blake was sitting doing the same with him.

* * *

Practice had dragged; since the team had changed, it meant that the lines had to be redone. And he had to learn what it meant to lead the first line. Learn the plays and styles of his teammates all over again, this time with the eye of a team captain.

Coach Highmore was patient, catching West occasionally and drawing his attention to things he needed to be aware of. How the plays were going, what his team needed from him, and West bobbed his head following Highmore's pointers dutifully.

Matt slid past him at one point, stopping as the rest of the team were taking slap shots and clapping West on the helmet with the end of his stick, "I see you have a fan." He grinned and skated off laughing, as West glanced over his shoulder to the section of the stands where Blake was sitting sipping a coffee wrapped in his heavy trench coat watching the practice.

Highmore ground to a halt. "Are you going to join us, Mister Harding?" he asked, starting West from his staring.

"Y-yes, Coach," West said, skating off to join the line. Highmore skated a lazy circle around him, the coach giving West a knowing look as he glanced up at the lone spectator.

Practice had eventually concluded, and West had deliberately stayed a few shower heads down from Matt, who grinned at him playfully as he soaped himself up. West shook his head at his friend as he towelled off and got dressed again, hoping to slip out, grab Blake and be out of the arena before anyone else could tease him.

Blake was waiting for him as he came out into the main lobby of the arena, West lugging the impossibly large hockey bag over a shoulder as he juggled his sticks.

"Need a hand?" Blake asked, a warm smile on his face.

West grinned. The bag was easily as big as Blake was, and probably about as heavy and there was no way the scrawny sixteen-year-old could manage it. He smiled, though, and handed him his sticks as they made their way out into the parking lot.

The familiar black Jeep was parked there, and West got his first look at the man he presumed was Coach Highmore's lover, the mysterious Will.

The man was tall, with careless hair that seemed to prefer to do its own thing rather than conform to any particular style. He was polishing his glasses on his tie, leaning against the brush bar of the Jeep keeping his tired eyes on the doors.

The first impression West had of Will was sadness, and he met the stranger's eyes with his own and nodded to him. The older man glanced down at the C on his jacket and then over to Blake, a faint ghost of a smile touching his face as he returned the nod.

"I'm parked over there," West said, gesturing for Blake's benefit.

Coach Highmore came out of the arena, loading his equipment into the Jeep, and calling out to West, "Hey Harding, over here a second."

West stopped and turned, he and Blake backtracking a second, as the coach smiled at them both, "Yeah, Coach?"

"You did well today at practice," Highmore stated glancing at Will. "I haven't introduced you--Will Carter, West Harding."

West shook hands with the other man who gripped his hand warmly, "Nice to meet you, West," Will stated in a warm British accent.

"Yeah, you too," West replied smiling, and glancing at Blake who was standing uncertainly, "though you used to teach me English back in Grade Seven..."

Will frowned and glanced at Highmore, before looking back, "West... Wesley Harding, right? In the same class as Peter?"

"Yes, sir," West replied, "you taught us Richard the Third."

West smiled again, nodding. "Did you learn something?" he asked.

"Actually, that's where Blake and I are going, to write a paper on Shakespeare." West turned slightly, "Uhh, Blake, this is Mister Carter, he was my Grade Seven English teacher."

"Well, I was teaching as part of a co-op program," Will explained, leaning back against his Jeep, a hand slipping into his pocket, knowing that Blake was probably surprised that someone as young as Will was could have been teaching nearly six years ago.

"Nice to meet you, sir," Blake said formally, shaking Will's hand and inclining himself for a small bow as he did so.

"Well, we should get going," Will said turning to Highmore.

West nodded as he gestured for Blake to follow him, the two crossing to the Bronco and loading his stuff into it.

Will remained standing a moment, staring after the pair as he leaned over to Highmore, "Déjà vu?"

Highmore chuckled, climbing into the Jeep and watching Blake getting into West's truck, "I could trade you in for a younger model."

"Careful," Will replied getting into his side of the Jeep, "I see a dashing young captain of the team there..."

"He's not your type," Highmore said as they watched the Bronco pull out onto the road, "you prefer older guys."

"True," Will said with a smile. "How was practice?"

"Good," Highmore replied. "How was work?"

Will suddenly looked tired and shrugged, "It was work... we should get back..."

Highmore spared a concerned look at Will, but held back on his comment, settling in for the drive back home. He wondered when they had grown up, and stopped being two kids in love. "I love you," he said, turning to Will and smiling.

"I know," Will replied quietly, lost to his own thoughts as he drove.