A/N: Thank you so much for all your kind reviews
A/N: Thank you so much for all your kind reviews. I'd like to especially thank Firebunee. Thank you so much for being there for me as I started writing and for always being positive and lifting me up when I'm down about a story. You are very sweet and just thank you so much for everything! Oh and for copyrights sake, I do not own the poem "The Highway Man." It belongs to Alfred Noyes if you are interested in reading it, I highly recommend it. It is such a beautiful poem and made me cry as I was reading it. Loreena McKennit sings it on her CD "Book of Secrets." It's a beautiful adaptation. Anyways, enjoy chapter three!
Chapter Three
To Tom and Doug's surprise, the door to room 211 was unlocked and the classroom appeared virtually empty. Doug took it upon himself to swing the open and saunter inside with Tom not far behind.
"Must be the guy's off period," Doug speculated as he made his way over the desk. As Doug was shuffling through the papers pilled high on the desk and rummaging through the drawers, Tom moseyed over to glance at the many posters that adorned the walls. The posters were of classics – Poe, Dickenson, Fitzgerald. Tom made a face upon seeing the poster for Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. In his opinion, if there were to be another history of book burnings, it should be the first to go. Stupid book, Tom's thoughts muttered, who names their kid Fitzwilliam anyways? Did those parents honestly want their child to go through a lifetime of torment? Doug's voice shattered Tom's thoughts.
"Check out this bookshelf," Doug waved Tom over to look at a bookshelf stuffed with books and surrounded by well-used couches and bean bags.
"What do we have here," Tom scanned the numerous works of Poe, "I do have this to say about our guy – he has awesome tastes in poetry!"
"Poe? Never read him."
"That's because in order to read anything – period – you must first learn to read," Tom badgered.
"Aw screw you Tommy!" Doug grumbled, "Everything looks clean to me. When do you have this nut-job's class?"
"Right after lunch. You?"
"Next period."
"Lucky! I'd rather have class with a pedophile then be pelted with dodge balls!"
"Fuller put you in PE?" Doug asked, trying his best not to burst out laughing. Some how, the thought of Tom Hanson wearing gym shorts was not a flattering image.
"That's what my schedule said. Don't you have it too?"
"Nope," Doug grinned, "Look, you're a cop. Each time you put on your gun and badge, you have a ninety-five percent chance of being shot and you are afraid of…a dodge ball?"
"Shut up," Tom glared at his partner, "Look, the bells ring in a few minutes. There's obviously nothing incriminating here. Let's go."
As they were about to leave, the sound of footsteps echoed through the classroom. The handle of the door clicked and Tom and Doug were left standing face to face with Mr. Josep Kramer.
"May I help you?" He asked. His voice was not critical nor did he show any sign of being appalled by the boys' choice of clothing also, he was surprisingly young. He looked not too much older than Tom and Doug!
"We just transferred here," Doug took it upon himself to speak first, "I'm Doug McQuaid and this is my brother Tommy. We just got our schedules and were trying to find our classrooms."
"Oh well that's quite alright. I understand what it's like to be new to a school. I take it you boys have never been in a private school before?"
"Nope," Tommy grinned, "We've been kicked out of all the public schools in the district. My step dad – his dad – decided to ship us off here."
"Well if there is anything you need, come to me. A lot of teachers here aren't exactly what I'd call…friendly towards their students. If you guys need someone to talk to, just ask me."
"Thanks," Doug smiled.
"I like your collection of Poe," Tom said before stopping himself. What was he doing? McQuaids don't read! Doug shot Tom a glance as if to say: What the hell do you think you're doing? You're not Tom Hanson here, you're Tommy McQuaid!
"You like Poe?" Mr. Kramer asked.
"Uh…he's alright," Tom said, trying his best not to blow it.
"Look, I have plenty of his works. If you'd like to borrow one, I'd be more than happy to lend it to you."
"Thanks teach but I have the whole collection at home. It's a collectors set my mom bought for me."
"Well, I'm glad to know we have something in common. You guys better hurry or you'll be late to your next class. I'll look forward to seeing you then," Mr. Kramer smiled warmly.
The boys waved and exited the classroom.
"He seems alright," Doug told Tom when they were out of earshot.
"Yeah," Tom nodded, "He seems really friendly, like someone these kids could go to."
"It's a shame he abuses it."
"Yeah," Tom nodded, "I almost really screwed up back there, huh?" He bowed his head and looked up at Doug from the corner's of his eyes like a child who was about to be scolded.
"Almost," Doug shrugged, "But you covered yourself pretty well."
"Thanks. I just don't know what happened back there. I'm usually good at keeping cover but I just…I don't know it's just that Kramer was so friendly about everything. Like a guy I could have a good conversation with."
"Well there's the gym," Doug nodded towards the door marked: Boy's Gym.
"Don't remind me," Tom rolled his eyes, "I'm thinking about ditching it."
"Tom Hanson? Ditching?" Doug's eyes widened.
"Who's Tom Hanson? I don't know anyone by the name," Tom grinned, "I'm Tommy McQuaid now!"
--
"Okay class, I have someone I'd like you to meet," Mr. Kramer announced, "This is Doug McQuaid," he said as he nodded towards Doug who had, once again, chosen the back row as his current residence, "He just transferred here. I hope you all will make him feel welcome here. Now then, I can't seem to find an extra textbook so if you could please, Melinda, share with Mr. McQuaid."
Doug turned to see "Melinda" sitting next to him. Her blonde hair fell in curls to her shoulders and her blue eyes were like sapphires. It didn't take too long for Doug to come to the conclusion that he was either in one of two things – love or lust.
"No problem," Melinda smiled, scooting her desk close to Doug's.
Doug, in all attempts to keep his cool, nodded towards the blonde.
"Hi," she smiled.
"Alright. Now, hopefully you guys all read the poem The Highway Man for homework like I asked you to do. Honestly, by a show of hands, who read the assignment?" When everyone but Doug raised their hands, Mr. Kramer smirked, "Alright, I guess you all are prepared for a pop quiz."
The whole class groaned.
"Alright, alright. I'll give you guys five minutes and only five minutes to read the poem. It's on page 260 if you don't remember."
Melinda turned to the correct page and placed the text book on Doug's desk.
"I've already read the poem. It's beautiful. I cried."
"You cried?" Doug asked unbelievingly.
"Yeah. It's really rather depressing. They both are so madly and passionately in love with each other and…well I'll just let you read it on your own."
"No, no that's quite alright. You can just tell me what happens."
"Well," a smile played on her ruby lips, "The highway man is wanted by the British soldiers because he is a criminal. He promises Bess – the girl he loves – that he will come to her by moonlight though hell shall bar the way," Melinda sighed as she quoted the lines from the poem, "And he held true to the promise but the soldiers came to Bess' home and tied her and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed. She could hear her lover's horse coming up the walk and she knew she only had a few seconds so she got her hands on the trigger of a riffle and shot herself to warn off the highway man. Hearing the shot, he turned and left as Bess lay dying. The next day, he heard of what she did and ran back in an angry outrage only to be shot down like a dog on the highway with a bunch of lace at his chin!"
"Sounds dumb," Doug scoffed.
"It's beautiful! How could you not think so?"
"It's poetry. Poetry is dumb."
"Poetry is beautiful!"
Doug rolled his eyes and handed the book back over to Melinda. Sure, she was cute but he couldn't take much more of incessant poetry talk.
--
"McQuaid! You're out!"
The coach's whistle blew signaling Tom to get off the court and take his seat on the bleachers with the other people who were lucky enough to get thrown out of the game. It had been his plan all along to stand still and not move allowing a ball to easily hit him thus making him leave the game.
Taking his seat on the bleachers, he almost wished he had skipped gym that day but of course, no matter how hard he tried to be Tommy McQuaid, he was and would forever be Thomas James Hanson and Thomas James Hanson never lied, cheated, or cut class.
"Great game, huh?" A red-haired boy with freckles and thick glasses asked.
Great, Tom thought, and now I'm stuck playing Fonzie to this twerp!
"I'm not into dodge ball," Tom sneered at the boy.
"Neither am I. I'm more into chess. You ever play?"
"Chess? Isn't that a game for nerds?" Tom's voice was cold. He hated being an ass to the kid his but it was part of his cover.
The kid looked down at his sneakers and didn't say anything else for which Tom was thankful. The last thing he needed was this kid following him around like a stray. The whistle sounded once more indicating a new game.
Tom used his same strategy only to find that the coach was on to him. So, instead of making him leave the game, Coach Bertier made him stay in the game. Unfortunately for Tom, Coach never let him get out so he ended up being the last one standing. It was utter humiliation! As if Tom wasn't in a sour mood already, stupid Coach Bertier only made matters worse! By the end of gym, Tom could hardly wait to nail Mr. Kramer and be done and out of Lady of the Lake.
--
"So how was gym?" Doug asked as Tom sat down, dumping his food onto the table, "And why don't you ever use a tray?"
"Shut up," Tom grumbled.
"What's wrong?" Doug asked, opening a pudding cup, "You want my pudding?"
"I don't want your freakin' pudding!"
"Sure you do," Doug waved it in front of Tom's nose, "It's banana."
Tom didn't look up; he only whacked the pudding cup out from under his nose, out of Doug's hand, and onto the floor. It landed with a kersplat! Doug looked down at the rather depressing sight of the upside down pudding cup, the yellowy goo seeping out onto the floor unwanted and untouched.
"Way to go, Tommy!" Doug hissed, "Go get some napkins and clean it up!"
"Shut the hell up, Doug," Tom grumbled as he took a bite out of his burger – or at least what appeared to be a burger. One could never be too certain about cafeteria food…
"What's wrong with you anyways?" Doug was beginning to grow angry with Tom's immature and crass behavior.
"This school is my problem! Do you want to know how gym was? It was hell, Dougie – hell! They made us play dodge ball so I tried to get out on purpose but the coach – stupid Coach Bertier was on to me and made me stay in the game! I was the last one, Doug – the last one! – against a team of five. It was so humiliating!"
"I'm sure it wasn't that…" Tom's death glare interrupted Doug's sentence and he thought better of finishing it, "Well, the day's almost half-way over anyways."
"I just don't think this day could go any worse," Tom begrudged.
"Look, I know you've had a tough day, sport but when we get back to the chapel I'll get everyone together and we'll all go out to eat, how bout that?"
"Sounds good to me," Tom smiled before quickly adding, "On one condition."
"Sure."
"Never. Call me. Sport. Again."
A/N: I'm glad you guys are liking this so far. Please hang in there with me and this story!