Carter's Army - 12. Chapter 12

December 6th

There he was again, day two of trying to survive high school after being branded a Fag. He had ridden in with Brody and had luckily been spared the bus ride. It felt kind of good not to be bouncing along the back roads with a whole bunch of screaming kids who liked nothing more than to be as rude and as vulgar as they could.

Brody was unusually boisterous that morning; it was as if he awoke each morning with a new burst of energy that he couldn't contain. He seemed to jump from one task to another without stopping. Producing a breakfast of oatmeal that he set down in front of Will. Will had looked down at it and winced, apologizing profusely he had settled for a cup of strong coffee that curled his toes and work him up like a cold slap.

However, despite Brody's energy that morning, Will felt sluggish. He had so much swimming about in his mind that he barely noticed the drive. Staring out the window at the houses whipping by. He had chosen some of the clothes Arthur had insisted on buying him the night before, a cool pair of Khaki Cargo's and a dark purple dress shirt. Over that, of course the leather jacket had been tossed. It was the coolest he had ever dressed.

As he went to get out of the truck, Brody stopped him and lifted a pair of sunglasses off of the dash and casually put them on Will's head, not on, more that they rested on top. He nodded in satisfaction at his addition and hopped down out of the truck. "Any one fucks with you today." He said firmly, "Tell 'em I'll see them after school for a real lesson."

Will nodded at his friend, the senior shop jock that had a protective side. It was a don't fuck with me attitude that he cultivated so much that most people just didn't see him for who he really was. Brody could be kind, thoughtful and generous but hid it well beneath a veneer of indifference.

He took a deep breath as he pushed his way into the school lobby ready for anything.

Except the stares of utter disbelief. About twenty or so kids stopped to look at him as he walked in, and a palpable hush settled over them, causing Will to look frantically over his shoulder hoping there was someone standing behind him. He wasn't that lucky, and his stomach clenched, he knew exactly what they must have all been thinking.

Jared broke the spell, "Hey Carter..." he walking right up to him and buckling his knees extending his hand to slap Will's hand, "Looking sharp!" he took a step back and nodded approvingly, as the lobby of students roused themselves from their stunned silence and went back to their talking.

"Don't get too close Jared," Todd Gadreau, a heavyset defenseman on the Condor's team sneered as he walked past, "he might be after your ass."

Jared arched his eyebrow at Todd, built like a brick building with a low center of mass, Todd could drop just about anyone in the school and had on several occasions. The C on his jacket was the only thing standing between him and a full-blown suspension. He had a perpetual angry look on his face, one that was now directed at Will.

"Yeah?" Jared looped an arm over Will's shoulder, "Looking like this I think he might just get it too!"

Todd froze in mid stride, gaping openly at Jared, "You what-?" he choked.

That deadly silence had descended over the lobby again. Will suddenly wished he'd stayed home that day. What was Jared doing, was he looking to get his head kicked in?

Jared just smiled, and pointed at Todd, "Dude you should see your face!"

There was a burst of laughter as the lobby kids realized Jared had been teasing Todd. And Todd worked his jaw a couple of times cluing in to the fact that he was the butt of his own joke, and he sneered again stalking off towards the gym.

Jared guided Will over to where Lisa was sitting with a cup of coffee already poured and waiting for Will. And as he sat down he tilted up his hat to wipe his brow. "Wow that was cool."

Will sat down as he shook his head, "What was that all about?"

Jared grinned, "Hey I figured throw them a curve ball and they'd be too busy scrambling to figure it out they would forget completely about you. Besides everyone knows I'm straight." He grinned, "I am sleeping with a cheerleader."

"You're a pig." Lisa commented as she handed Will his coffee, she looked him over approvingly, "Who'd have thought there'd be a teenager under all those old scruffy clothes. Now we just have to get your hair cut and you'd be hot."

Will shook his head as he drank from his coffee cup, "I'm not hot." He said with a shy grin.

Lisa smirked and reached out to turn his head to look at the large glass bulletin board. It had a black backing so it acted like a mirror reflecting the table, and Will saw a stranger sitting where he should have been. He really hadn't looked at himself that morning, stumbling about half awake and tugging on clothes. He sat and stared, it was a wonder what new clothes could do, and Arthur had made sure to dress him in things that were stylish. And added to that the sunglasses gave him a touch of style.

He blushed. It was still him, but not him. He shook his head as he sat back in the chair a weird smile on his face. He looked good and he couldn't deny it. Lisa was right, he needed a haircut but other than that he looked... good.

Andrew crossed the lobby heading towards the gym and he stopped, doing a double take. His eyes wide in surprise as he quickly recovered, looking about him to see if anyone had seen. Lisa, sitting beside Will smirked at his shocked reaction. Jared, as usual, remained oblivious.

Will looked up at Andrew and smiled confidently, the Canadian could still stir butterflies in his stomach, but the look of surprise on Andrew's face was calming. In a single look he had shown Will that he was not the only one to be nervous about what they had started.

Andrew checked about him once again, and gave Will a thumbs up before continuing on his way to the gym. Condor country.

* * *

Mike Greenwood was an institution at South Carleton, he had been there since the school had opened, and nobody questioned his right to be head of the English department of the school. He was considered brilliant, and the students lucky enough to have him always passed on stories of how hard he worked.

He always reminded Andrew of Richard Dean Anderson, that same kind of temperament even though Greenwood looked a bit older. There was a sense of energy about the man, and an irreverence that endeared him to the students. He was one of those men that could actually relate to his students. And if the rumours were to be believed, it was because he had been a renegade protester in the sixties.

Andrew's mother had always dismissed that as gossip and rumour, something she had no patience for. She was known around town for her strong stance against the rumour mill that seemed to fuel a small town. There were members of her church group that went so far as to avoid Micheline Highmore, fearful of incurring a stern lecture from her on the subject.

Andrew grinned as he sat up towards the back of the auditorium listening to Greenwood recite a selection from Othello.

"Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial." Greenwood's voice resonated around the stage as he closed the book. He was the only teacher in the school that used the Auditorium as a teaching tool. Treating it like a university lecture hall, he rested a hand on the lectern and stared up at the Grade 12 students, "What did Shakespeare mean when he penned those words?"

A student's hand snaked up, "He is saying that a person's reputation is important, so important that without it they are nothing?"

Greenwood shook his head, "Quite the contrary," he stepped down off of the stage and took the floor of the auditorium, tapping the book against his hand, "He is saying that reputation is important to the individual. It his perception of himself as reflected in the eyes on another that he feels separates him from an animal. But..." he held up a finger, "We are not slaves to reputations, if we allow our 'image' to dictate who we are and how we act then are we no better off than an animal? What separates us from the animals is the capacity for independent thought, that freedom to be whoever we wanted to be regardless of what another person thinks or feels about it."

Andrew raised his own hand, "I'm sorry sir, but our society isn't built like that, we depend on reputations to dictate where we sit in a social group..."

Greenwood smiled, "Spoken like a man with a reputation to protect." He sat down on the edge of the stage and set the book aside, "we are all concerned with how we are supposed to look, how we are supposed to act that we sometimes don't notice that what we want to do, and what we are doing are two different things."

Robin Doyal, one of the most dynamic seniors in the school and a definite contender for Valedictorian that year held up her hand, "But what about social obligations?"

"How far does that go?" Andrew countered looking across the hall at her, "We all have social obligations, to the law and to what's morally acceptable, but what about something like slavery. It was socially acceptable to own slaves."

"Mister Highmore raises a good point," Greenwood said, "it took some brave people a long time ago to realize that the perception was wrong and for them to set out to change the beliefs of everyone around them. But we don't need to go for such an old example, can anyone think of an example of how perceptions in this school could affect the decisions you make?"

Robin nodded, "Yes smoking."

Greenwood nodded, "Definitely, society tells you smoking is wrong, yet we have for the longest time thought it was socially acceptable to smoke."

"Fag's." Todd Gadreau yelled from the back of the room where he lounged with one leg looped over the top of the chair in front of him sitting next to a couple of his friends.

Andrew winced.

"A perfect example," Greenwood said as he stood up again, "Is homosexuality wrong?"

There was a murmur in the auditorium, and Greenwood swept his gaze over each of them. "I see we have a pretty mixed crowd here today." He observed, "So lets not focus on the issue of Homosexuality itself, but the perception of homosexuality."

"Like that Carter kid." Mario Guerra chimed up, the small Latino who was on the basketball team.

"Carter kid?" Greenwood asked.

"Yes," Robin said as she adjusted her blouse, "there is a kid in the grade below us that was 'supposedly'" she threw a meaningful glance back up at Todd, "Caught kissing another guy."

Greenwood became a bit nervous, "I don't think we should be discussing a specific person..."

"Carter's gay," Todd threw back, "If he wasn't why hasn't he denied anything?"

"Maybe," Robin said turning fully now to affix a dark stare at the hockey player, "he hasn't had a chance to deny it, because some people have already made up their minds!"

"I heard he got kicked out of his house," Mario chimed in, "If he wasn't gay why'd his dad kick him out?"

"Listen," Greenwood tried to interject again, "I don't think this is appropriate..."

Andrew felt himself sinking lower into his chair, his mind swimming back to that first kiss. And for the first time realizing exactly what Will had been talking about. He wanted to say something anything, put a stop to this debate, but what could he say?

He was standing before he realized it, his hands sunk into his pockets as he looked about the room, "Do any of you actually know William Carter?" he watched their surprised reactions to his sudden anger, "I mean really know him?" he looked up at Todd, "Did you know Carter's dad is in the British Army, that even the suspicion of his son being gay is enough to send that bastard over the edge?" He looked over at Mario, "Ever stop to ask him if he's gay? Even if he was what difference does it really make? I know him; I've talked to him. Just accusing him of being gay based off of what one girl thought she saw in a park..." he shook his head as he sat back down seething. He hated getting angry like that, but he couldn't just sit there, that was Will they were talking about.

"Andrew's right," Robin stated, actually agreeing with him. Robin had never agreed with Andrew on anything. It was surprising, she nodded at him again as she stood up, "You're judging someone you don't even know. I think..."

She was cut off by the sharp sound of the bell. As students rushed to collect their books Greenwood called out to them, "It just serves to prove that even though Shakespeare is old, his message remains the same. I expect your English papers at the end of the week and we will have a test on this on Monday."