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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 Army - 1. Chapter 1

November 28th

 

Will was distracted; he was sitting as he always did, rushing at the last minute to get his homework done. He should have been concentrating on his work, he knew that, but it didn't seem quite as important at that moment. He was simply not into his work. Classic underachiever syndrome at work, he should have been the poster boy for it, except he wasn't attractive enough.

Not that he was unattractive, quite the contrary he was tall, dark and handsome, with careless hair and a pair of those deep hazel `Irish eyes' that drew people to trust him on instinct. But he was not hot. He had been told repeatedly that he looked too intelligent, he looked like a scruffy academic; add ten years to him and lose him in a museum and people would just assume he belonged. He was handsome in that classic Englishman manner that brimmed with raw charisma, but without the accent he was simply... normal. Now Tom Cruise was hot, but Will was definitely no Tom Cruise.

He shifted his hand to rest his chin on it, staring vacantly up at the doors to the library. He could play sports if he wanted to; nothing stopped him, except the fact that he just didn't know how to play most of them. He had grown up in England - a place where basketball, football and hockey weren't played. Hell, they were even laughed at back home. Will could play soccer modestly, but he had been an ace at cricket. Nothing like going from ace cricket rookie to geek because his father had wanted to emigrate.

It sucked.

There had been a rather embarrassing incident when he had tried out for the baseball team in the summer. He had stepped up to the plate feeling the awkward round bat in his hand and tried to swing for it, missing the first two times. The last time he had just relaxed, holding the bat like a cricket bat, and had connected hard enough to send the ball right out of the field, into the coach's Volvo. That had ended his sports career. Though it had bought him the respect of his friends who thought it was cool that at 16 Will could hit a home run and make it look effortless.

Will started from his thoughts as Andrew Highmore walked into South Carleton High School's library with a smug expression that wasn't so much arrogant as it was confident. It was rare to have many guys willing to spend their study period in the library, especially not someone with Andrew Highmore's reputation. His green leather letterman jacket only contained his threatening broad shoulders. And the gold lettering on the sleeve read `Storm hockey', a real sport in the coach's eyes, not like Cricket.

He grabbed the first seat available, which happened to be beside the tall windows that overlooked the ramp up to the main doors of the school. Honestly, this caught Will off guard. He would have assumed that Andrew would have placed himself out of sight, hidden away from his teammates in case they saw him there. Yet, he sat with an emanating confidence that confounded the instincts. He seemed like the type of guy that over-exaggerated every moan while working out in the gym. The type that fell asleep each night reading his own stats. He fished out a pair of reading glasses, also out of character, as he pushed his blond hair away from his eyes. Andrew was tall, built for hockey in that typical Canadian way, and to Will he was definitely handsome in an Old Navy commercial kind of way. It made Andrew appear young, wholesome and clean-cut. He was the kind of boy girls could take home to meet their mother. He had sandy-blond hair, parted in the middle almost carelessly, which only served to add to the image of a typical wholesome youth. But it was Andrew's sharp blue eyes that gave Will a way to see past the stereotype to the intelligent and determined man beyond. Those powerful eyes that shone every time he spoke.

Will shook his head as the bell rang for the start of the study period. Will went back to his own textbooks; his English paper was due later that afternoon, and typically he was leaving it until the last minute. But it wasn't a big deal for him. Much to his English teacher's frustration, he had an innate understanding of the English language, one that let him bang out an A-grade paper in less than an hour. He stared at the selections of William Blake. It was simple for Will to see where Blake was going with the poem; the tricky part was connecting it to his later works. Those were scattered about him in a disorganized pile waiting for his attention. There was something thrilling about being lost in the written word, and Will was enjoying himself. Hey, so long as it wasn't math Will was happy to do the work. An innate understanding of math seemed to be one thing he lacked, much to his dad's dismay.

Curiosity made him glance up and over to where Andrew sat, pencil clenched between his teeth as he flipped through a chemistry book. Of course. Mister Chiasson had the senior chem. labs that afternoon, a big deal apparently, though Will had yet to take any of Chiasson's courses, those came next semester. He considered opening up a conversation, but Andrew was too far away for that. And you didn't just start a conversation with the captain of the Storm.

"Your english paper still isn't done?" Lisa asked as she laid her books down on the table beside him. Late as ever, Will wondered if she would ever pull it together.

She was a beautiful girl; there was a hint of the exotic in her appearance, a slight roundness to her face and the curliness to her dark hair that always made Will think of Helen of Troy. Men would destroy cities for that woman one day. Trouble with her was, she never realized it.

He smiled up at her, "It's just Blake," he said with a simple shrug of his shoulders, "I give myself even odds to be done by the end of study hall."

She snorted at him as she flipped open her own textbook and fished through her notes, "I was done with that paper a week ago."

"That's because you're a keener." Will grinned as he returned his concentration to the paper and scribbled some more notes in his near-illegible handwriting. It was like painting a picture: first he got the basic shape for it, and from there he would fill out the details.

Lisa stared at him a moment and reached out to pull his ball cap down over his eyes, "Jerk." She said with a grin.

"Shhhh!" Miss Harriet, the librarian, a wizened old spinster admonished from the counter. She never even looked up from her book cataloging. Will grinned up at Lisa as he readjusted his cap on his head, shaking his head at his nemesis. "I'm still going to score higher than you on this paper."

Lisa looked down at it then back up at him, and she gave him a radiant smile, "And I am still scoring higher than you in math class, so we're even." She stopped when she noticed Andrew Highmore sitting over by the windows watching them, "Is that...?"

Will nodded, "Yep," he replied as he continued to work, "chemistry lab this afternoon."

She tapped her pen on the edge of the table;"Hmmm, glasses make him kinda cute." She shook her head as she caught herself checking out a jock and pulled out her calculator.

"I thought that you and Brody were..." Will began.

"Don't even say it," She grumbled in frustration. "He asked me out to the semi-formal this weekend, but hasn't shown up for school. His friend Jeff said the last he heard Brody was off buying a motorbike. Like school isn't important or anything. The guy just won't grow up."

Will relaxed in the uncomfortable plastic chair that was supposedly designed for posture and in actual fact dated from the middle of the Spanish Inquisition. He set his pen down, "What made you say 'yes' then if he's so irresponsible?"

Lisa remained silent as she laboured on a particularly complex quadratic Equation. Finally, realizing Will wasn't about to just let it go, she looked up at him, "I don't know, he asked, I guess." She looked about her. "Think I could sneak into the teachers' lounge and raid the coffee pot?" she said trying to change the subject.

Will chuckled as he picked up his pen, "Ah, so it's because no one else asked. I understand." He ducked under her hand that flew out to connect solidly with his shoulder. It stung, but he continued to laugh at her.

He stopped laughing when Rafik came out of the audiovisual supply room pushing a TV-VCR unit on its tall cart. Both Lisa and Will picked up their textbooks at the same time, trying desperately to appear busy. But it was too late; Rafik stopped the cart and grinned at them.

"Hey guys. Are you looking forward to the dance on Friday night?" He leaned on their table, "They're letting Josh DJ it this year, and I am rigging the lights; it's going to be fun." He stopped and smiled at Lisa, "Are you g-going with anyone?"

Will hid his choking laughter by coughing into his hand. Lisa's face was truly a sight to behold and if he had a camera, it would have made a great Kodak moment. There was something about white on Lisa; it set off her deep auburn hair. "I'm going with Brody...I'm sorry, Rafik..." she apologized, and it almost sounded sincere, at least there was something, Lisa always seemed to let guys down gently.

Rafik nodded his head, adjusting his glasses sullenly as he made an excuse and wheeled the cart out of the library destined for whatever class had requested it. When the doors had closed, Will looked up from his paper, "That was almost cruel."

Lisa shrugged, "What? I told him the truth didn't I? He's a sweet guy but, hello...Desperate!"

Will looked towards the doors and shook his head. No doubt that was the reason Rafik couldn't get a date; you just couldn't go around with a big neon sign over your head that screamed 'desperate'. And despite the fact that Rafik's dad ran the paper mill that employed half the town he just couldn't compensate for his total lack of social graces. He affixed a prospective date in a set of floodlights, concentrating so much emotion upon them that they couldn't help but say no to him. It was a shame, Rafik really wasn't that bad of a guy.

"Who are you taking?" Lisa asked interrupting his thoughts; it brought Will back from his deep contemplation and grounded him in the present. He hadn't actually been planning on going to the Semi-Formal. His jaw worked a few times as he struggled to offer her an answer and in the end shook his head, "Hadn't thought about it. I don't go to dances..."

She shrugged, "but there must be someone right? I mean there has to be someone you want to take...what about Jennifer?"

Will shook his head, "Jenny and I are just friends. She's going through a rough patch right now with the pregnancy..."

"Oh." Lisa grimaced, "How's she doing? Has she heard anything from Jacob - he is the dad, right?"

Will sighed as he continued to work on fleshing out his paper, "Jacob took off as soon as he heard she was pregnant, typical deadbeat dad. She's over it though; I saw her this morning in the cafeteria, and she was devouring a banana- raisin muffin..." he shook his head, "but as for taking her to the dance, I'm not interested in her that way, we're just good friends."

Lisa studied him for a moment, trying to read his face to see if he was trying to trick her, and finally she gave up. "Well she likes you, she won't stop talking about you."

Will rolled his eyes, "I'm just a shoulder she cries on, it's not as if we're ever going any further with it, I'm not attracted to her." He thumbed at the doors Rafik had recently gone through, "It's like you and him, I can't explain it, but I'm not interested."

Lisa held up her hands, "Hey it's okay; oh, and you spelt necessary wrong..." she indicated with her pen to the word that was now flowing from the end of his biro pen. He stopped and mumbled a curse, liberally applying white-out to the loose-leaf page.

He checked the word again and continued with his writing, though the paper was secondary in his mind, as he tried to work out why he wasn't attracted to Jennifer. She was a beautiful girl, pretty in a rural kind of fashion. Not to mention the fact that some benevolent god had gifted her...

But he just didn't look at her in that fashion. It was like looking at a sister; you could see everything and instantly know it was wrong to consider her in that way. Jennifer had been his friend ever since he had been dragged to that godforsaken edge of nowhere by his father who was determined to start a new life for him and his boys. They had shared common interests, and that was great but that still wasn't enough for him to be attracted to her. Then there was the whole Jacob -- baby thing.

He didn't understand how anyone could let themselves get pregnant. He had never been that in love, he guessed, never been in a relationship long enough to be swept up in the rush of emotions that led to `mistakes'. He just couldn't picture anyone worth his risking his entire future for.

The baby-trap was a danger every guy faced in that small town. Most of the intelligent guys who had steady girlfriends and a bright future ahead of them suddenly found that future snatched away from them by unscrupulous girlfriends who saw their boyfriends preparing to head off to university and leave them behind. Nothing killed the dream of a bright future like a bouncing bundle of joy dropping into the lap like a bombshell. That had been Jennifer's goal; she had confessed it to Will one night when they had been sitting up watching cheesy movies. Jacob was getting ready to go on to college to become a carpenter's apprentice. And rather than lose him, she had tried to catch him like so many others. Only Jacob wasn't like the other guys; the last anyone saw of him was him gassing up his car at the edge of town. He had run far and fast.

Will swore that wasn't going to happen to him. He was a rare commodity, a young, intelligent man destined for university. He was attractive, if rather average. He wasn't an all-star athlete like "captain" Andrew Highmore over in the corner, but he was still a prime target. And daddy wasn't something he wanted to add to his resume anytime soon.

He just kept his mouth shut as he worked on his paper. His education was his ticket out of that small town, a pothole on the road of life as he thought of it. He was destined for other things, go to university, get a good job. He would have a great house in the city and never have to worry about things again. His golden path was set, and he wasn't about to be derailed by a girl.

He set his pen down, "Done."

Lisa looked up from her own homework;"You know I hate you, right?" she nodded to the paper, "You're the English department's golden boy. He that can do no wrong..." She rolled her eyes as he flashed her a smug smile, "And what makes it worse is that you know it too."

"Yep." Will replied as he allowed his eyes to wander about the library, over the battered books and metal shelves that were typical of high school libraries everywhere. The librarian was still working to put the day's book returns back on the shelves. The announcement board that no one bothered to read, announced the Christmas Semi-Formal on Friday. And Andrew Highmore was watching him. He stopped and glanced back, but the captain had gone back to his textbook, and Will shrugged it off. He was a sophomore, and beneath the notice of a senior. Shame really; Andrew was supposedly a good person to talk to, and if his reputation was to be believed, really good at getting the girls. He was one of those people everyone tried to emulate in one fashion or another; even Will had to admit that he respected Andrew.

Will yawned as he closed his books and glanced at his watch; the bell would go in a few minutes and then English class. Mister Greenwood would give them their review for the Christmas Finals. A good chance to re-examine the texts covered over the year, and Will was secretly looking forward to challenging himself on the exam; he could prove that he had earned his grades for all the effortless papers he had written over the course of the year. "Jared just walked in." Lisa's voice dropped to a whisper as she stared appreciatively at the Storm' goalie as he walked over to Andrew. He was also in their year, and a good athlete, even if he wasn't the best of students. He had earned his place on the school team that year. Will liked Jared, they spoke occasionally, and mostly Will helped Jared with his English assignments when they got a chance. Another throwback to their Freshman year when he and Jared had been paired up for a number of biology labs. It wasn't that they were friends, but rather they knew each other and worked well together. Jared had a way with the practical lab assignments that allowed Will to work on the notes.

Will glanced up and watched as Jared and Andrew talked by the windows, and Will noticed it had started to snow again. He shuddered, glad he had brought his heavy winter coat with him. The Canadian winter was cold enough to cut to the bone, and that year it was especially severe. Rumor was that it was supposed to drop to minus-fifty later in the week. Toque-wearing weather.

He always looked stupid in a toque. He owned one, but refused to wear it unless the weather was exceptionally cold because he looked silly in the gaudy blue-and-white knitted hat with its bobble on top. But he had to admit it looked better than the silly fleece jester hat Lisa wore in the cold.

He grinned at her, "Snowing again."

She groaned catching sight of it herself, "Great, I'm taking the bus home tonight." She folded her arms in disgust, "No way I am walking in that."

Will yawned again as he picked up his books and stood up, "It will be okay, only one more period to go, we should be home before the worst of it hits."

Lisa picked up her own books, her eyes still locked on the drifting white snow building up outside, "Well maybe tomorrow will be a snow day."

Will grinned at the pleasant thought, "I think it might..."

Copyright © 2010 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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On 13/01/2014 at 2:02 AM, Miles Long said:

Snow day are mystery benefit for those who grow up in cold weather. Nice start, thanks.

Snow days are also a mystery for those of us who grew up in a place where it didn't snow...

 

An interesting start, with some nice character introductions. From the story description, we know Andrew is going to play a major role, but I'm intrigued by Jared. Not a lot was said about him, but I already have a good first impression. 

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