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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 - 9. Chapter 9
Andrew was up early the next morning, still living out of his suitcases and because he hadn't taken the time to unpack he was unable to find anything that wasn't wrinkled beyond recognition. There was a growing pile of clothes on the floor as he dug through the bags for something at least passably presentable, finally finding a sweater and a pair of drab tan chinos that would look all right.
He took a long shower and was relieved to find his mom had bought him some more shampoo, although secretly he had to admit he found the Rosehip smelled kind of nice. Wonderful, he thought dryly, keep this up and he would be shaving his legs. Will was such a bad influence on him.
He grinned as he began to brush his teeth; they'd had a good night after the party. Gone back to Will's and just chilled. Watching TV with Will curled up against him working on his homework was one of those things Andrew had missed the most going to university. It was great that they could both do their own thing, and yet still be together. That was the great thing about their relationship, it was happily comfortable.
He got dressed and walked through into the kitchen and he sighed seeing his mother in her customary position staring out at the field. Her sad repose every morning, greeting the dawn with her coffee. Andrew supposed it was her way of remembering his father, and despite the fact that it tore at his heart every morning when he saw her like that, he often didn't interfere.
"You were out late last night," his mother said, reaching out with a slender hand to pick up the carafe and pour herself another cup of coffee. "How is William?"
"Carter's fine," Andrew said, pulling down a bowl and fixing himself some cereal. "His aunt was throwing a party and we went to it."
Micheline pursed her lips considering what a party at Majella's would be like. "Is William ok?" she asked in concern.
Andrew stopped and set the milk down. "I don't know, Mom," he admitted honestly. "He got pretty rattled, I think. But you know Carter, he always hides it when he's upset."
Micheline lightly stirred some cream into her coffee, studying her son. It often worried her how much her son cared for Will, sometimes putting his own needs aside in an effort to protect Will against the world. Not that it was Will's fault, Andrew was like his father, always needing to keep people safe.
"Was the Major there?" she asked, her eyes gliding back to the window and the hayfield where some birds broke from the long grass and flapped skywards.
"Yeah," Andrew said, returning to the table and sitting down, pouring himself a cup of coffee. His mother gave him a disapproving look.
"When did you start drinking coffee?" she asked.
"I'm twenty," Andrew said. "I don't think it's going to stunt my growth."
Micheline abandoned the half-formed lecture on the evils of coffee and what it did to people. Andrew was right; he was old enough to make his own choices. She decided to go back to her original topic. "What happened last night?" she pressed.
Andrew explained about the evening, finishing up with the chaos of the car ballet.
Micheline gave him one of her motherly looks, "Is Will okay?"
"Yeah," Andrew said between spoonfuls of cereal. "He was just a little shaken. I got him out of there as soon as I could and he seemed to relax."
Micheline set her cup down again, curling her long fingers around it as she stared into the dark liquid, finding the right words for how she wanted to phrase this. "Are you sure that was the right thing to do?"
Andrew paused, spoon midway to his mouth, "Huh?"
"It's just," Micheline sighed, "you can't fight his battles for him." She held up a finger to cut off his protests, "I know you love him, but sometimes you have to stand aside and let him do it himself."
"You didn't see him last night." Andrew confessed, "He was trying to hide it, but I could see how much he was hurting."
Micheline flexed her hands, uncoiling her arms as she looked into her son's eyes, "But you have this habit of charging to the rescue, and," she paused, wondering if it was right for her to interfere, "it's just that sometimes you can't do that. You know when I used to put plasters on your cuts?"
Andrew nodded, his brow furrowed.
"Well, they're put on to protect from infection, but they don't help the cut itself heal; you have to take them off to let the wound breathe." She looked at him, "Am I making sense?"
"You're telling me not to get involved between Carter and the Major," Andrew replied, his tone of voice saying he didn't like the idea one bit.
"No," Micheline said with a soft, motherly smile, "you're going to protect him no matter what; it's just sometimes you have to stand aside and let William protect himself."
"I get it," Andrew said digging into his cereal again. He suddenly stopped and set his spoon down looking up at his mom, "I haven't told you yet, but I applied to Ottawa University."
Micheline's eyes tightened suspiciously, "Why? I thought you liked Fredericton."
Andrew rolled his eyes, "What is with everyone, I would have thought you would be pleased I decided to go to school here next year."
"William knows about this?" Micheline asked.
Andrew nodded, "Yes and he got quite upset at me for it." He scooped up his coffee mug and took a long drink, "He thinks I'm doing it just for him."
"Are you?" Micheline's back straightened as she gave him the look.
Andrew shook his head. "I want to be here next year," he said determinedly. "With you, with him, I don't get what's so wrong with that."
Micheline sighed loudly, "I just want what's best for you, that's all. Are you doing this for yourself, or because it will make William and me happy?"
Andrew looked across the table towards her. "I missed you both," he said, "and I was having a hard year at UNB. I just want," he gave up and shrugged, "I just want to stay at home, that's all. Ottawa is a good school and..." he extended his hands, "you know."
Micheline nodded sagely, "Have you gone down there? Looked around the campus? I think you should think it through before you make your choice. I don't want you making a decision you will regret."
Andrew gave her a smile as he set his spoon down, "I will Mom; don't worry, I've had a lot of time to think this through..." He stood up and walked to the sink, rinsing out his bowl and setting it aside, "I'm free this morning, I can go check things out."
Micheline smiled as she stood up as well. Walking to the hall closet she pulled out a rich gray/blue zip-up vest that she handed over to him, "I bought this for you yesterday, it's a bit chilly out there today so you could use it."
Andrew smiled as he shrugged it on over his gray sweater, an odd combination but he thought it looked cool; he turned back to her, "How do I look?"
Micheline adjusted it a little, "I was right, it does bring out your eyes." She brushed it down, "I'm very proud of you, do you know that?"
Andrew gave her a shy smile, "Thanks." He scooped up his keys, "I should go then, maybe I can meet Carter and Jared for lunch afterwards."
* * *
It wasn't cold; in fact the sun was shining powerfully as Andrew navigated his way around the campus. It was a pleasant walk; the University was just about to get started on its summer term, most of the regular students having gone home for the summer.
It was a sprawling campus; buildings were clustered together, a mixture of modern architecture as well as some more historic buildings. It definitely looked more impressive than UNB in Andrew's mind. There was more money there, which meant better professors, a better program and ultimately a better education for him.
UNB was an engineering school, Ottawa was an academic school. It really just solidified his choice to stay on next year. He actually began to feel a little excited by the prospect; he knew a lot of his old school friends who had settled on Ottawa, and he felt confident that he would fit in easily enough.
He ducked into the main building, climbing down a flight of steps till he was walking through the orange-lit concrete halls passing the student bookstore and a coffee shop. He stopped and bought himself a mochacino, sipping it as he returned to his rambling exploration of the school and what it had to offer.
He didn't have a particular destination, he was purely looking around to see what it was about. A couple of familiar faces passed him in the hall, one of them turning to stare openly at him.
It was Robin Doyal, the young debater he had always competed with in Mike Greenwood's English lectures. She turned, excusing herself from her friend, and walked over to him. She looked well, dressed understudy stylish. She shifted her binder from one hand to the other as she walked around Andrew looking him up and down.
"Andrew Highmore," she said smiling at him, "what are you doing here?"
Andrew shrugged, "Checking out the school, I'm thinking of transferring." He sipped from his styrofoam cup and nodded to her, "It's good to see you."
"You too!" she exclaimed throwing her arms around him in a big hug. "How's that boyfriend of yours?"
"Will's fine," Andrew said, gesturing. "Which way are you walking?"
"Oh, I was heading to register," Robin said. "I'm taking some summer courses, I wasn't doing anything this summer so I wanted to keep busy."
Andrew smiled, "I know that feeling, I'm at a loss for what to do this summer as well."
"You should register," Robin said pushing his arm. "They have some great courses here, I'm taking a political theory class..." she stopped, aware that she sounded a little too eager. "Ok, so I miss having someone with half a brain to argue with," she admitted.
Andrew laughed. "You're twisting my rubber arm," he said as they passed through a main concourse, a couple of tables set up, one of which had "PRIDE center" in big bold rainbow letters. A couple of students were passing out leaflets about various GLBT issues, and Andrew paused to pick up one of the leaflets, flipping through it.
"You should come out for a meeting," the young man said, resting on a plastic chair. "We could use all the support we can get."
Andrew looked up, and a flash of recognition passed between them. The young man at the Lookout balcony with the white patch in his hair. He in turn recognized Andrew, and his eyes drifted down over him, lingering a little too long for Andrew's comfort.
"Uh, sure," Andrew said. "I'll think about it," he said, tucking the leaflet into his pocket as he and Robin moved away.
"He was cute," one of the Pride volunteers observed.
"He's got a boyfriend," the guy with the white patch said with a sigh. "The good ones always do."
Andrew, overhearing the exchange, blushed a little bit. Robin caught it and looked back over her shoulder, "Must be nice," she said with a grin.
Andrew shrugged, "I didn't notice." And he gave her a grin, "I'm happily taken."
It had taken only a few minutes to register, his information was all on file for next semester so it was no problem for him to sign up for classes early. Robin guided him through what courses were rumoured to be the best. And the pair of them had signed up for several courses together. So much for his summer vacation, it gave him something to do during the school year, and brought him just one step closer to Law School.
They were walking back across campus when Robin patted the pocket with the leaflet, "So are you going to help out in the Pride center?" she asked.
Andrew dug it out and flipped through it as they walked, "I might, but if it's anything like the GLBT center at UNB, it's going to be a glorified pick-up club."
Robin smiled at him, "Tell you what, if you do, I'll join with you. Keep you out of trouble."
"Well," Andrew said hesitantly, "I never really pictured myself a gay rights activist..."
Robin blinked at him, "After your senior year? You were an activist from the moment you came out. The whole I'm gay, deal with it attitude of yours..."
Andrew shrugged again, "I know, I just don't want to... well, you know. Give people the wrong idea."
Robin grinned, "You're worried about Will."
"Well," Andrew admitted, "yeah, a bit. He's not the jealous type, but I don't want him misunderstanding why I'm doing this."
"If he trusts you," Robin said, "then it won't be a problem."
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7
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4
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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