Disclaimer: I own nothing. Though if I could timeshare the Sons I think I would…or would if I wasn't happily married. Damn. Others own the movie "Covenant" and no infringement of copyright or damage to psyches is intended. No money is made on this venture and my only remittance is my wonderful readers and getting this damnable story out of my brain and onto the page.
Author's Note: I have not been my prolific self. For that I apologize. Life and children have put a damper on my writing and with any luck, I'll get back to my King Arthur, SG1, Tin Man series and all of the rest of my genres in the very near future. I just have to light a roaring blaze under the butt of my muse. Right now she seems to be fascinated with four young men from Ipswich. Go figure. I live for reviews so if you have any comments at all, feel free to share. Thank you for letting me play in the sandbox that is "The Covenant."
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Chapter One
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Reid leaned back in the chair, bored. Another AP American Lit class and all he wanted to do was be out on the quad, black hat pulled down over his platinum locks as he wooed the ladies.
"Mr. Garwin, if you would please read the next poem."
Reid arched a brow, ignoring Tyler trying to show him where to start reading. A moment later the professor had sighed and moved on to the next unwilling victim.
"Ms. Porter, since Mr. Garwin is unwilling or incapable of the act of reading, would you mind reading the next poem?"
Reid glanced to his left. Usually either Caleb or Pogue took that seat-the Sons of Ipswich united in English class. But with Pogue still recovering from his motorcycle accident and Caleb having dropped AP American Literature in favor of AP European History, the seat had been left vacant. Now it was occupied by the singularly drab Rebecca Porter, whose sole claim to fame appeared to be her neck-and-neck status for valedictorian with Caleb.
Rebecca nodded, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and licking her lips. "Yes, sir," she answered softly.
Reid smirked. Sir? Only pansies and people with a serious obedience issue called their professors sir. In all the classes he'd ever had with the girl, she always called her professors sir. He paused, taking a closer look. Obedience…maybe he could have fun with this one.
Rebecca came to the end of the poem and looked up, dreading that the teacher was going to make her continue reading. She hated being singled out in class. But in a school of about four hundred, it was inevitable. She nodded as he moved on to the next student for the reading and breathed a sigh of relief, sinking back into the chair.
She reached for her pen, clicking the ballpoint and again writing in a small but careful script that, had she thought about it, looked like penmanship from the eighteenth century. Considering that she was in a town that counted family history and feuds in the hundreds of years, it might not have been surprising.
Finally, the class was over and Reid and Tyler were on the move again, this time towards swim practice. All thoughts of obedience issues left Reid's mind as he cleared the surface of the water.
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Rebecca sighed, chewing on the end of her pen. She'd given notes and homework to classmates before when they'd been out sick. This was no different. She pressed the green copy button and watched her loose-leaf paper notes for six classes being sucked through the copy machine to make two copies, one for Pogue and one for Kate. Both of her classmates were still in the hospital, so far as she knew, and unless they were planning on bailing on the class, they would need notes and the class assignments to keep up.
Five minutes later with a week of notes and class assignments in hand, she started towards the one place that she knew she could find the infamous Sons of Ipswich after school: the pool. She glanced down at her clothes and winced. Not exactly the fashionista garb of many of her classmates. It might be school uniforms required, but most of her classmates managed to embrace some flair in their wearing of the clothing. Instead, Rebecca's plaid skirt fell just past her knees, her tie was crisp and straight, her cardigan was wrapped around her like armor and her hair fell in sheets over her shoulders. She had mastered the art of being unnoticed over the course of her eighteen years.
The doors to the pool were closed but not locked and Rebecca paused, hand on the door. She really didn't want to go in. But if she didn't go in, when would she give the Sons of Ipswich the notes and assignments? She was sure that Tyler probably was trying to help Pogue and Kate, but she'd seen his notes before. And Reid didn't take notes.
Pushing open the door, Rebecca stepped into the chlorinated environment of the pool, her nostrils stinging. Water splashed and hoots echoed off the tiled walls.
"Young lady, there are no visitors allowed," warned the coach, striding towards her.
Rebecca nodded quickly. "I'm sorry, sir. I just wanted to deliver the notes for Pogue and Kate to Caleb or Tyler or Reid." She held out the stack of copy paper to the coach..
He sniffed and looked up from the papers to the girl. "Right." The coach turned his head. "Danvers! Get your ass over here!"
Rebecca shifted miserably as she watched her rival for valedictorian pull himself from the water like a seal and jog towards her, a mystified look on his face. "Notes and homework for Pogue and Kate. Bye!" she added, darting from the pool.
Caleb looked down at the papers in his hand, careful not to get them wet. Carefully printed across each of the sets of pages was the name of the person they were intended for, what class the notes and homework assignments were intended, and a careful wish to get better soon. He glanced up, watching the pool door still swinging and smiled. "Coach, can I put this in my locker?"
The coach sighed and nodded. "Just be quick, Danvers."
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