Forgive me if I set this in the wrong place; I couldn't remember whether they said in the movie where Maxville was.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sky High, or the rights to it. I'm just having fun with someone else's toys. I promise not to sell them or break them.
Just Will
by Kari Anna
Will slumped into a chair at a table in the back corner of the library. A few book nerds and the like would be lurking around somewhere, but they wouldn't bother him. He could wallow in his misery freely here.
He leaned over the table, nearly putting his elbows through it when he leaned his head on his hands. Thinking better of it, he took his arms off the table and leaned back, shutting his eyes and shoving both hands through his hair.
"I'm not the Strongholds' son, who's going to be the best real estate agent in Oregon, I'm not the son of Commander and Jetstream, who's going to be the greatest hero the world has ever known. I'm just Will, God dammit." He opened his eyes and slumped forward again, careful not to touch the table this time.
"Don't slouch, Boy Wonder. It's bad for your back," came a familiar voice from behind. At some point, Warren's scathing sarcasm had become balm for Will's soul.
A small smile took the place of the disheartened frown on Will's face. "Sit down already."
Warren sat down not with Will's customary plop, but with the same grace as the flames he controlled. "What's eating you?"
Of course, he wasn't Warren Peace for nothing-- he was a balance of two natures. On the one side, he did what was right, and he took care of the small closeknit circle of friends he had. On the other hand, he sometimes took an unorthodox means to attain the right end, and he was damn blunt about everything. He wasn't known for easing people into touchy subjects.
Will followed his example for once. "Sometimes I hate everyone. They don't look at me and see me. They either see "That kid of Commander and Jetstream's" or the Strongholds' kid who's going to be a real estate agent. The boy next door. Not Will, who hates math but likes history okay, and whose favorite thing to do is just to find a stretch of pavement cops don't hang around and push the limits of an old beat-up Toyota. But that's who I am. I'm just Will."
Warren was silent for a little while after Will finished his complaint. Then, "Sounds like you need a little unscheduled vacation. C'mon."
He got up and tugged Will to his feet, then led him out of the library, down the hall to the nearest exit. Outside, he said, "Take off. I'll tell you where to go."
Will hesitated. Warren wasn't allowing that right now, so he walked calmly off the edge of the school.
In a panic, Will dove after him. When he caught up, he grabbed hold of the back of Warren's trademark black leather jacket and yanked the taller boy to his chest. "Don't ever do that again! Jeez!"
Warren smirked. "Okay, down there," he pointed as they came low enough to see the layout of a town. "See the gray loop?" At Will's nod he said, "That's where we're going."
For a long two minutes, there was nothing more to say. The only sounds were the soft whistle of the air around them, and the two boys' heartbeats. Will found his frustration with the world sinking into a lonlier corner of his mind, leaving him in relative peace.
When he put down, they were in a small park not far from the track Warren had shown him from the air. He found himself distracted again from his frustration by the exertion of keeping up with Warren. Will had to take two steps for every one the older boy took.
It was worth it, for the sanctuary he found at the track. Warren had a quick word with some woman who looked old enough to be his mom, and then led Will to a good-sized garage that was apparently home to three cars. One, Warren explained, was his. Or would be when he was finished paying it off-- one of his reasons for taking on a job at The Paper Lantern.
Warren went around to the driver's side and opened the door, holding it for Will. "Get in," he urged, slightly exasperated when Will's confusion kept him back. Will got in, and Warren shut the door. Will returned the favor by leaning over and popping the door open for the other boy.
As soon as he was in the car and both of them had buckled up, Warren tossed Will a set of keys. "The ignition key is the one on the green ring. Don't ding her up."
For a moment, Will could only stare at his best friend and wonder if Warren was joking. Finally, he put the key in the ignition, and when the car purred to life he felt his worries start to melt away. He pulled her out of the garage, and onto the track. First a warm-up lap, then he let go of his restraint.
Half a tank of fuel later, he pulled the little V8 back into the garage, calm and relaxed. When he turned off the ignition and reached out to hand the keys back to Warren, Will murmured his thanks.
"No prob."
"You trust me a lot," Will said, and it wasn't a question, but Warren answered anyway.
"Yeah, I do."
And when Warren took back the keys, he let his fingers cover Will's for a moment, and Will knew Warren really did trust him. After all, Warren knew him for who he was: just Will.