Perspective
XX
A/N: I wrote this story to expand on several OC characters who are at least present in the NCIS universe that Jenny wrens is writing, including Melissa Wallace, Makayla's older sister, as well as the scene set at Xavier Preparatory School in "Adjustments", Chapter 13. I asked for and received permission from Jenny wrens to do so, but actual "canon" status of any of this within her fanfic universe for NCIS depends on her approval or disapproval.
Having said that, have a look and enjoy. Feel free to tell me what you think in a review and/or PM.
XX
The Headmaster of Xavier Preparatory School looked up expectantly as the Head Girl, Cassandra Marshall, was admitted to his office by Mrs. McCandless, his secretary. Cassandra looked displeased about something, meaning that her generally-solemn expression looked decidedly more sour than usual.
"Thank you, Mrs. McCandless," the Headmaster said politely. Once the door was closed, he greeted the senior female student. "Miss Marshall, good afternoon. Please, be seated."
"Good afternoon, sir. Thank you, sir." Cassandra sat down and paused only a moment before going ahead: "I wanted to talk to you about Makayla Wallace, sir."
"Yes?"
"Sir, I don't understand why she still attends this school."
"One of the benefits of holding this office is that I am empowered to handle certain matters as I see fit. The Headmaster's discretion can be enough to settle something that otherwise might be quite complex and time-consuming."
Cassandra frowned. She was a strikingly beautiful girl, a gifted scholar and athlete, respected by many but loved (or even liked) by few. Cassandra Marshall was brusque, often intimidating, interested in very little besides athletics, political and military matters, and her overriding, all-consuming goal to meticulously emulate her father's career in the U.S. Marines. She also was intolerant of anyone she felt had no place at Xavier and was always the strongest voice on the Honor Council. Her will was rarely challenged and her opinions were rarely questioned.
"Sir, with respect, letting that- that girl back in was a mistake."
"Go on."
"She cheated, sir. She blatantly violated the Honor Code, which specifically forbids cheating in any form. And that's on top of her attendance record, which is so awful that-"
The Headmaster held up a hand. "I am aware of all that, Ms. Marshall. And I, too, share your concerns."
"Then what's she doing in school uniform?" Cassandra demanded with her characteristic bluntness. "She was given her chance here already. She failed."
"I met with Ms. Wallace and talked it over with her. I made the decision that allowing her to finish out the current academic year would be best for all involved."
"Sir, I have to disagree with you. Allowing that girl to stay here after what she's done will send the message that we aren't serious about the Honor Code, or about attendance. Is that what we want at Xavier? Girls who cheat and run away every time a hat drops?"
"You make your case as delicately as ever, Miss Marshall."
"Well, what about it, sir? If I did anything else I'd just be wasting time. Esse quam videri, sir. We need to be an honorable school, and not just seem it. We don't want the kind of example we'll set if we let Makayla Wallace's readmission stick."
"Have you spoken to her sister about this?"
"Melissa, like me, doesn't have time for this kind of childish nonsense, sir. She's busy looking toward the future."
"And dating your brother on and off."
That was a cheap shot, but it hit home. The stern Cassandra Marshall blushed crimson and stumbled as she searched for a reply.
"I, um, I didn't know you knew about that. Sir."
"What I understand is that Josh Marshall, Junior got a lot more interested in Xavier after he met Melissa Wallace."
"Sir, well, he's gotta date somebody." She blanched. "What I mean is, he likes her."
"Well, obviously."
Cassandra took a moment to compose herself. "Sir, I have to tell you, I'm concerned about what this school does about Makayla. I have to tell you how much it matters that we make the right choice."
"So you have. And I appreciate your counsel."
"Are you really going to let her stay here?"
"For now, yes, I do."
"But sir-"
"You are Head Girl, but I am the Headmaster. You know all about holding a higher rank, so trust me. I know what I'm doing."
Cassandra looked annoyed, and it showed, but the Headmaster didn't comment.
"I understand, sir," Cassandra said.
"Excellent. Was there anything else?"
"No, sir."
"Then I wish you the best of luck as you finish out this semester. Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon, sir."
XX
"Hey, JOSH! Heads up!"
Josh Marshall, Junior spun around and caught the football deftly with one hand, surprising Cameron Ward, the sophomore who'd thrown it.
"You had, like, a second when I said that! How'd you even react that fast?" Cameron asked.
"Good reflexes," Josh answered. He thought about throwing the football back, but decided against it. Instead, he motioned with the football towards the double doors. "C'mon, I was gonna go throw a frisbee or a football around for a bit anyway."
"Sure," Cameron said, trying to hide his eagerness and not doing a great job of it. He was from the "right" kind of family by Xavier Prep standards- his grandfather was founder of the Ward Law Firm and his mother led the school PTA when she wasn't managing a chain of banks- but he was a bit shy and so had taken to sucking up to the more popular boys to get ahead. Though they were nearing the end of their final semester on exchange from Remington Military Academy up in Rhode Island, Josh and his twin brother Chris were at the center of Xavier Prep's "in crowd". Easily the biggest topic of school gossip was trying to figure out who would take over for the twins once they left.
Nobody bumped into Josh while he was stopped in the center of the hallway, even though he was close to the front doors. The crowd parted around him and his hangers-on. As usual, guys greeted him with respect, girls with a little more than just respect, and even the Dean, Dr. Lyman, only gave him a slight reprimand for throwing a football in the hallway.
"Chris, you know that isn't done at Xavier."
"Aw, c'mon, Dr. Lyman. I'm Josh, anyway. Honestly, you call yourself Dean of Students of the best prep school in D.C. and you can't tell me and my brother apart?"
"My brother and I," Dr. Lyman corrected him, but he was smiling. "'My brother and I' is the correct phrase, Mr. Marshall. And the policy is the same regardless. No throwing footballs in the hallways."
"Can I just toss it, not throw it?"
"Semantics, Mr. Marshall, and no."
"Can I just kick it like a regular football? Rest of the world does that."
"No, Mr. Marshall."
"Aw, Dr. Lyman, just this one time?"
"Is it ever 'that one time' with me?"
Josh grinned. "Uh, no. No, Dr. Lyman."
"Then you have your answer."
Josh motioned with his head to "The Boys," as Xavier's highest-ranked boys were called. "All right, boys, we're goin' outside." As a gaggle of 8th graders made it past, looking moderately less tiny and terrified than they had in September, Josh turned to Dr. Lyman.
"Only joking. I am Josh, actually!"
Then he threw Dr. Lyman the football and bolted out the door.
XX
Josh hurried out onto The Yard, the expansive and elegant front lawn of the school, pausing to button down his navy blue school blazer and winter coat, both bearing the Xavier Prep school crest on the left breast. The necktie was still a bit too tight, so Josh loosened it as he looked around for his brother Chris.
There you are. Lipstick all over your neck again, too. No wonder you're late.
The red-haired teenager raised his voice to a shout. "Chris! Get over here! Come on!"
Cameron Ward came outside carrying the football and ran up to make the first throw. Josh caught it, sent it over to the banker's son named Harry Potter. The blond seventeen year old, who bore a much closer resemblance to Draco Malfoy, caught the ball with ease and then threw it to Chris as he joined the group.
"You and Chris gonna commit to The Citadel?" Harry asked.
"Yeah. That's the plan."
"You two could go to anywhere in the Ivy League. Why don't you join my older brother at Princeton? He could help show you around; he'll be a junior by the time you start college as a freshman."
"Nah, man," Chris said. "We're Citadel all the way."
"I was thinking Cornell, or Harvard," Harry said. "My old man went to both of 'em, so I'm legacy either way. Not like I'd have a hard time getting in there when I go here, but you get me."
"Family tradition's a great thing," Chris agreed. It was, after all, a major part of why Josh and Chris had always intended to go to the Military College of South Carolina.
"Yeah, unless you don't have one that matters. Sucks for those people. Ha!"
"Hey, Harry!" Chris called. He threw the football as hard as he could, and Harry barely caught the ball before it hit him.
"Jeez! You tryin' to kill me?" Harry said, but he was laughing. "Hey, who wants me to get one of those 8th grade kids over there? Pow, right to the back of the head. I'm the big hero, right? I'm Harry-fucking-Potter! I can't possibly have done anything like that! I'm the good guy!"
"Harry, just throw it to Trevor already," Chris said.
"Sure, all right," Harry replied. "I'm just saying I could. It's an option."
After catching the ball, Trevor Bedford, IV, the arrogant cross country runner who was dead-set on joining Chris and Josh at The Citadel when they all started college in the fall of 2007, stopped dead to gape at the old pickup truck that had stopped at the curb, looking decidedly out-of-place on the grounds of a school where Cadillacs were a dime a dozen, Range Rovers and Benzes were normal, and even a Bentley or Rolls-Royce wasn't unheard of.
"Oh, my God," Trevor said, almost in an awed whisper. "What the fuck is that? Jesus! Is it left over from World-War-fucking-Two?"
"Man, who in hell cares?" Harry said. "C'mon, Trevor, throw!"
"No, no, wait. Wait a second." Trevor never took his eyes off the truck. "Seriously, what the fuck is that thing? You ever see such an ancient piece of shit?" He laughed, then threw the ball to Harry. "Hey, man, how much you wanna bet that's some farmboy from Kansas or some shit, out here to see a real school for once?"
"You people better clean it up," Chris warned. "Language like that's conduct unbecoming of a Xavier man."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Prefect, sir," George said.
"Well, technically I'm still a boy," Trevor retorted, "so fuck that motherfuckin' rustbucket, and fuck you, Chris T. Marshall."
"Watch it," Josh said sternly. He had no patience for anyone who disrespected his brother, even under the guise of a joke.
Trevor raised his hands carefully. "Hey, no offense meant, boys." He rubbed his hands together and swore again. "Fuck, it's cold. Let's go burn that stupid truck and we can be fucking warm, at least."
George Brandon, III laughed as he joined the group. "Trevor still got a dirty mouth?"
"Jeez, ya just noticed?"
"Get me a Fifties paper, George, 'cause that's old news."
The dark-haired youth nodded to the truck. "That… thing is gonna be the talk of the school for weeks. Good God, does that dude even know? Does he know this isn't John Q. Smith High School, located in Nowhere-That-Matters, West Virginia?"
"Nowhere in West Virginia matters," George sniggered.
"Exactly! So he should pack his ass back up and go back there!"
The entire group cracked up at that one, and even Josh and Chris, who were widely accepted among old money but knew their father came from nothing, had to laugh.
I wonder if Dad ever owned anything like that, Josh wondered. He never tells me anything about how he lived as a kid. He never tells anybody about it. And here I am. I got everything. Rich kids think I'm one of 'em and I never had to worry about food or where I was gonna sleep or anything. Just regular kid stuff. Maybe that guy in that truck just wasn't as lucky as my family. We don't all grow up with the level of privilege Mom and Dad have made sure their kids get.
All that thinking was enough to sober Josh, but no one noticed his change in mood, because George was just telling everybody he sent his girlfriend, Alicia Bradley, over to see what "that goddamn disgrace of a truck" was about. Everyone in the circle paused, the football momentarily forgotten.
"Hey, hey, wait, wait, wait," Trevor said suddenly. "New details. He's getting out, walking toward the front doors. Look, it's the Runaway. Makayla Wallace knows that guy in the truck."
George pulled out his phone and hurriedly sent a text message. "Okay, I told Alicia to wait. She's gonna ask Makayla who that guy is." He glanced over. "Blue oval on the front."
"Yeah, it's a Ford," Josh said. "Old one. Otherwise, no idea."
A minute or two passed by. The Boys and their female counterparts steadily gathered as additional members showed up. Everyone was staring but doing an expert job of not looking like it, and nearby, Josh saw Cassandra rolling her eyes. Uh-oh. Cass, or Cassie as her siblings, closest friends, and boyfriends called her, held rich-kid politics and prep school gossip in great contempt, and she had never approved of Josh and Chris getting involved in it. Oh, boy. Well, they were too far in now.
Finally, the truck pulled away from the curb and Mr. Ward's personal Bentley Arnage stopped where it had been, with the Ward family driver at the wheel.
"There they go," Trevor said, looking after the pickup truck. "One the one hand, I wanna know who the hell that guy is. On the other hand, I don't if it means I gotta see more of that fuckin' eyesore."
"Hey, guys, I gotta go. See you later," Cameron said. "Don't worry about the football. I'll just have Mr. Travis buy me another one."
A chorus of "Cool," "See ya, man," and "Later," answered him. Josh saw Cameron smiling to himself as he turned away. The kid had been trying so hard to get in with The Boys, and it looked like he was gonna make it.
Alicia Bradley showed up just then, accompanied by one of her newest friends, Madeline Davis. "I got the latest scoop, guys," she said, sounding thoroughly pleased with herself. "I got news about the Runaway."
A flurry of voices answered her as everybody in "The Boys," and their corresponding clique "The Girls" demanded to know everything. Josh and Chris simply waited, knowing they'd hear the answer to most of these questions regardless. Alicia grinned, savoring the moment, and then spoke up as the voices died down.
"I dunno who the guy is, but he said he's from Princeton."
The two cliques exploded into laughter, and Trevor and George in particular were laughing so hard they could barely stand up.
"Princeton!" Trevor wheezed. "Oh, my God! Princeton?"
"No way! No friggin' way!" George added between gasps.
"I bet his lying his ass off," Harry laughed. "Thomas would know if some chump went to Princeton with a truck like that. That thing? Jeez!"
Josh and Chris laughed along, mostly for appearances, but they both were getting worried about Cassandra, who was openly glaring at them now.
"He also said he's her boyfriend," Alicia added.
"Huh," Harry said. "Now, that is interesting. Hey, maybe she's been running off to see him, huh?"
Trevor shrugged. "Running off to New Jersey? We're in Northern Virginia. I can't even run that fast."
"Hey, just my theory."
"Wait- if he's going to Princeton, let's just say if, he's at least 18, right? Makayla Wallace sure isn't." Alicia paused for a moment, thinking. "This dude could get in some serious trouble if he's as old as he's saying."
Harry turned to Josh. "Wait, wait- Josh, didn't you say Melissa Wallace told you that her mom told Makayla that she's seriously grounded or something?"
"Harry, I don't go asking my girlfriend about her kid sister all day. I really don't."
"Oh, come on!" Harry insisted. "All the trouble Makayla's been getting into, Melissa's gotta have said something to you. Wouldn't you like to make a phone call and get the Runaway into some shit right now? All you gotta do is talk to Melissa and confirm something for us."
"Maybe what me and my girl talk about is none of your business, Harry," Josh answered, cool but polite. "Maybe I have better things to do than pester her about her kid sister. Did you ever think of that?"
"I just wanna know who that dude really is," George said. "I shoulda figured we wouldn't get anywhere right off the bat. Alicia just tested him. We'll need to find out more if we ever see him again."
"Maybe he's military," Chris remarked. "He sure looked like it. I know military when I see it."
"He could be," Josh agreed. "I swear he looked like he was our age, though… Anyway, maybe that's his grampa's truck or something."
"You should see my car's dash cam," Trevor boasted. "It's hidden so it's basically not even there. My uncle works with the State Police. He can find out who owns that truck, because I know I'll be able to get him the license plate."
"You mean none of us got that down while we were staring at that relic?" David Abeley said in disbelief.
"Nah, man, I was trying not to go blind," George said. "It doesn't matter. We ever see that jerkoff again we'll know who he is. Nobody hides from The Boys."
"Including little boys," Josh sniggered. George blushed and said something extremely rude, but it was lost amidst gales of laughter. Several people's rides started showing up just then, though, and the other day students began migrating towards their cars. Trevor went to his three-year-old SL-600 and was checking something right as he got behind the wheel.
That left Chris and Josh to face Cassandra, who was coming over with Brittany in tow. Cassandra was a beautiful girl, but she could be a terrifying older sister, and right now she looked thoroughly pissed. She checked to ensure they were alone, and then started.
"That girl isn't that important! Makayla Wallace isn't worth you two getting wrapped up in stupid school gossip! Laughing and swearing like a bunch of children! You two are better than that and that isn't how Mom and Dad raised you!"
Josh raised his hands defensively. "Cass, we ju-"
"Boy, have you lost your mind?" Cassandra barked at him. "Because I'll help you find it!"
"C'mon, Cass, we're sorry!" Chris protested. "We have to keep up appearances! The Boys and The Girls took us in, and they're the big cliques at this school, and we have to-"
"You don't owe anything to a couple of stupid cliques!" Cassandra interrupted, shaking a knife hand at the twins. "You two, follow me. Right now.
"Okay," Chris agreed, shouldering his bag.
"You got it," Josh said, eager to please. If Cassandra was in a really bad mood, she might tell Mom and Dad, and if Dad got on the warpath that meant a fate worse than death. You never, ever embarrassed the House of Marshall. Neither Mom nor Dad had any tolerance for any behavior that reflected poorly on the family, or on the Marine Corps.
Boarding students who maintained a GPA of 3.3 or above and had written permission from their parent or guardian could keep a vehicle in the designated student parking lot. Cassandra's was instantly recognizable; a gold 1958 Plymouth Belvedere sedan, featuring the powerful Golden Commando V8. Loitering near it were two people the twins knew well; Lukas Shepard, son of a Bundesmarine rear admiral, and Melissa Wallace. The former was the camera-shy and romantic athlete for whom Cassandra reserved most of her charm and good humor. The latter was Cassandra's roommate and best friend.
"Hey, Cass," Melissa called out. "What took you so long?"
"I was beginning to wonder," Lukas added.
"Blame the twins," Cassandra replied. "My idiot brothers got dragged into some bullshit school gossip session over that old truck that parked in front of the school today."
"Oh, whose was that, anyway?" Melissa asked. "I heard about that."
"Someone your sister knows," Lukas said with a shrug. "She left school with him."
"She's grounded," Melissa said. "She'll be sorry she went on a date with some guy. Mom's not gonna just let that go."
"Babe, when am I gonna go and meet your parents?" Josh asked, greeting Melissa with a hug and a kiss. "Your dad sounds like a really nice guy, and your mom- honestly, she sounds like my Dad."
"And our Mom," Chris said with a laugh. "You can't ever tell those two no!"
"You better not," Cassandra said firmly, "or you'll answer to me."
"Yes, Cass," Josh said, and he and Chris hung their heads.
"Josh, I did ask about having you over for dinner. My parents said now's not the best time," Melissa answered.
"Is everything okay?" Josh asked. He'd grown quite fond of Melissa in the six months they'd been dating, and instinctively worried she might have problems at home, or that her parents might not approve. What they thought of him mattered quite a lot.
"Well, it's complicated." Melissa sighed. "Makayla… she's got a lot going on. She wants to quit going here and go to this big art school, or something. Whenever she and Mom talk, they fight. It's driving Mom crazy. Dad's been trying to stay out of it but you can't exactly do that in a warzone."
Josh looked at his sister. "Cass, can Missy and I go talk?"
"Fine," Cassandra said. "Ten minutes. Then I'm taking everybody to dinner. We're doing a group call home, too."
"Hey, my parents can at least hear your voice," Josh said, perking up.
Lukas took Cassandra's hand. "I would like to speak to you, briefly," he said.
Cassandra gave his hand a slight squeeze, smiled at him. Her stern features softened, and she nodded to her brother. "Twelve minutes."
"Keep the making out brief," Brittany called after them, and the two couples each turned a fascinating shade of scarlet before fleeing in separate directions.
XX
Once they were alone under one of the massive, ancient oak trees bordering the parking lot, Josh turned to Melissa and took both her hands in his. Her green eyes were like emeralds; her red hair was like a ruby; her overall beauty outshined the stars.
"Missy," Josh said, "I wish I could do something about your sister."
"I doubt you could help. She's always had a hard time here. Mak will never admit to it, but a lot of that's her fault."
"Nobody here really likes her anyway," Josh remarked. He realized how that sounded and quickly added, "Not that it's right, just how it is. She's never liked it here so, um, well, I guess that made it really hard to make any friends."
Josh didn't know much about that last part. Growing up military had forced him to move and start his social life over again so many times, Josh had learned to be confident and outgoing from an early age. He and Chris had always been popular, surrounded by friends and admirers.
Come to think of it, so had Melissa. Driven, motivated, focused, academically and athletically talented… it had drawn Josh to her right from the day they'd met two years ago. After a year and a half, he'd finally worked up the nerve to ask her out. Now, their six-month anniversary was coming up and life could not have been going better.
Melissa slapped him playfully. "You hear that?"
"What?"
"I said, your sister wants Makayla kicked out of Xavier. She's not subtle about it, either. She's never subtle."
"Cass thinks a plan is taking the biggest hammer she can find and smashing whatever's in her way. She's direct. She doesn't know how to be anything else."
"She sounds like your dad."
"She wants to be my Dad," Josh said. "I've got his name but she's his protégé. She'll make four stars in the Marines if it kills her."
Personally, I might make captain. I doubt I'll ever be what Dad wants. If I can just make it through to become a Marine fighter pilot along with Chris, that'll be enough. I'm just not gonna worry about rank.
"I think she can do it."
"Me, too. I just hope I can be there to see it."
"And why wouldn't you?"
Death, Missie, because death. I've got the Marine Corps in my blood and there's a war going on. What are you doing with me? If you stick with me, do you realize what you could be setting yourself up for?
"What about you, Miss?" Josh asked. He nuzzled his nose against hers. "What do you wanna be?"
"Somebody who spends less time on drama than my sister," Melissa said with a laugh.
"I was being serious," Josh protested mildly.
"So was I!"
"Babe…"
"Josh, I wanna see this shaggy haircut back in the summer," Melissa said. "No offense but I like it better than a buzz-cut or a high-and-tight."
"I gotta transfer back to RMA," Josh said. "I'll start growing it out as soon as the spring semester ends. I promise I'll call, and I'll write. And I'll come to visit you as often as I can. I'll get somebody to record all your soccer games and I'll watch 'em."
The big star scholar, the athlete, Josh thought with wonder. How'd an average guy like me wind up with somebody like you? I'm just a normal guy who goes to the gym too much and has a big-shot last name.
"I'll talk to Mom and Dad," Melissa promised. "We'll have you over for dinner sometime soon. I'll try to make it happen during Christmas break."
"You think Makayla's gonna get in the way?" Josh asked, none too pleased at the idea. He'd never met this girl and all she seemed to do was get in the way.
Josh had nothing at all against Makayla personally, but he had little patience for a kid sister whose only role in his life seemed to be as an annoyance. Here he was getting into his first really serious relationship and all Makayla seemed to be good for was messing things up. The constant fighting with her parents created a hostile atmosphere at home. Not much time or energy for meeting the boyfriend when your house was an armed camp. And as much as Melissa tried to distance herself, it took a toll on her, too.
"She might," Melissa allowed. "But Mom and Dad will find a time to meet you."
"Well, we have seen each other's faces."
Melissa laughed. "Yeah. I think the plan was to actually meet them, right?"
"The wonders of dating at boarding school."
"Just be ready to set aside the time. I'll talk to my parents."
"I can drive up from South Carolina if I have to," Josh said. "Or, wait, maybe I'll just fly. I dunno." He paused. "Missie, no offense, but your sister's causing too much drama. It's upsetting your mom, your dad, and it's upsetting you. You're all working so hard to be the biggest success that you can be. It's amazing. It inspires me. And Makayla- she thinks she can mess with your guys' future because she wants to draw pictures?"
It occurred to Josh, distantly, that he had never seen a single thing Makayla Wallace had drawn, painted, any work of art that she'd done at all. For that matter, neither had Melissa. Neither of them cared about art too much. Josh thought largely in terms of fitness and grades, the big career plan, and having fun when he could. So did Melissa. Their mutual love for athletics was what had brought them together.
"Josh, I wish Mak wasn't like this, but she is. She just keeps starting fights. We're just gonna have to put up with it until she figures things out." By her tone, Melissa thought the whole thing a waste of time. Josh absolutely agreed.
"All right. Let me know when I can come by and I'll wear all Brooks Brothers for dinner." Josh smiled proudly. "Mom took me and Chris to get hand-tailored suits last time we went home."
"I can't wait to see it. And maybe the wait's not so bad," Melissa said. "I need to get the best GPA I can. Of course, if your sister beats me for valedictorian, maybe she'll get in her second smile for the whole year."
"It's an improvement. Used to be Cass only smiled once or twice a decade."
Melissa smiled and kissed Josh; he got that same butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling he always did at moments like this. It just never got old. Josh smiled. "I'll be on my best behavior when I meet your folks. I promise."
"Oh, I thought you were gonna join forces with Mak and start a riot." Melissa laughed, then sighed wearily. "I shouldn't have joked about that. I bet there'll be another one tonight. Mak is always starting things."
"Hey, Makayla has to fight her own battles," Josh said. "This thing is gonna work itself out one way or another. But, uh, I'm just your boyfriend, so, 'scuse me if I don't wanna step into that mess and get shot in the butt."
"I'd hate for that to happen," Melissa said. "You have such a cute butt."
Josh grinned. "I really do, don't I?"
"Don't get too proud of it."
"Wouldn't dream of it, babe."
Cassandra started up the Belvedere just then, and Josh and Melissa both looked that way as she waved and honked the horn.
"She's my hero," Josh said suddenly. "Me and Chris, we'd follow her anywhere. So would Brittany. Cass loves us all so much. She just doesn't like admitting it."
"She does like me, right?" Melissa asked.
"Yeah. She dislikes most people because they never meet her standards. You're one of the only people she's ever said measures up."
"Oh, good. 'Melissa Wallace, She Measures Up.' 'Melissa Wallace, She's Good Enough,'" Melissa said, snickering. "Heck of a campaign slogan there."
Honk! Honk!
"Hey, you two! Knock it off, I can hear you from here!" Brittany called out. "It sounds like-" She proceeded to make a lot of slurping and squelching noises.
"Oh, Jeez," Josh said, sighing. "My little sister." He pecked Melissa on the cheek. "Ready to ride a true American classic to one of D.C.'s finest restaurants?"
"Ready as always," Melissa said, giving Josh a peck back.
XX
At dinner, Lukas was his usual quiet, reflective self. He rarely spoke but was thoughtful and unfailingly polite when he did. Cassandra adored him and rarely took her eyes off him. Josh and Chris were friendly and joking, as ever. Brittany was a bit intimidated in the presence of her big sister and brothers, but she had her moments, and she was as happy as any of them. Melissa talked a lot of school-related and athletic shop with Cassandra, but was plenty interested in talking to her roommate's siblings, especially since she was dating one of them.
Still all dressed in their school uniforms, they made for an impressive sight, plenty suited for the kind of high-society look and feel that permeated the restaurant.
"I tried talking to the Head today," Cassandra said finally, addressing Melissa. "He's letting your sister stay. Again. She runs off, she cheats, and he lets her stay." Cassandra sighed irritably. "What's the point? Why have an Honor Code or a disciplinary code or attendance rules if Makayla Wallace gets to ignore them all she wants?"
"It's his call," Melissa said. "Don't overthink it, Cass."
"Christ, you sound like the Head," Cassandra said, but she smiled. She shook her head. "Whatever. Mom's on the Board at Xavier, and she and Dad know all the other Governors personally. If I talked to Dad, I bet he could… I dunno. On the one hand, he could probably have her kicked out if he moved on it. On the other hand, he's probably gonna yell at me for wasting his time if I bring it up. Especially right now. Some big mess blew up down at Parris Island, and he's not happy about it."
The piano music being played live in the background changed as a new song started; Cassandra smiled. "Lukas, you wrote this one, didn't you?"
"I did," Lukas answered, nodding. "I suggested it to the owner, and he liked it after I played it for him."
"Lukas, you're amazing," Cassandra said.
"I do my best," Lukas replied. He smiled modestly, but it was obvious he was greatly pleased.
The conversation shifted to other topics after that as the Marshall children rehearsed their highlights of the day, week, and semester that would be reported when they spoke to their parents. They followed the chain of command strictly, so Cassandra largely dominated the conversation as they went over everything. Lukas said little but listened closely. Melissa promised to say hi as well.
Cassandra signaled to the waiter, paid the bill and added a generous tip, and then carefully removed the group from the restaurant. Entering a place, being there, leaving- you always had to be thinking about how you did everything that you did, because being somebody meant the world was always watching. Cassandra handled such matters impeccably.
XX
As Josh entered the stairwell, he pulled out his phone and started to send Melissa a text message, then decided against it. She might get upset with him for bothering her during class.
That girl is so mission-focused, the Marines would be a pretty good fit for her, Josh thought. Just so long as I can sti-
Nothing attracts the human eye faster than sudden movement, and the 8th grade girl racing down the stairs towards him was moving like her life depended on it. Time seemed to slow, and Josh sidestepped, spun off-balance, slipped, and caught himself on a guard-rail. His phone flew clean out of his hands, landed several steps down, and the redhead stepped on it and kept right on going. The crunching sound was unmistakable.
Already on his feet, already reacting, Josh shouted after her.
"Hey! HEY! Stop!"
If the girl heard him, she gave no sign. She flew down the stairs even faster, if anything, and was gone, her footsteps echoing as she descended.
"Sonofabitch," Josh grumbled. He suddenly thought of something. "Pre- school Prefect!" Josh shouted. "Stop! That's an order from a Prefect!"
Nothing. The girl was just not coming back.
Josh sighed, went to retrieve the remains of his cell phone, and continued up the stairs.
New footsteps raced into the stairwell from above, and the lean, auburn-brown-haired Woodes Rogers, IV hurried down towards Josh.
"You saw her?" he asked. "That was Makayla Wallace!"
"Yeah, she ran right by, without-"
"Jeez," Woodes groaned, "not again. I told the Head this morning that I had a feeling Makayla Wallace was gonna run today. Not again. On days like this, I wish they'd never made me a Prefect."
"You and me both."
Woodes' brown eyes blazed with righteous anger and indignation. "This kind of stuff is an embarrassment to this school. I don't care what the reason is. She tarnishes everything that makes our school shine." He went to the nearest window. "Yep, she's leaving school grounds again."
The two seniors stood together and watched the 14-year-old flee.
"It's hard to believe she's Melissa Wallace's sister," Woodes said.
"I don't get it, either," Josh admitted with a shrug. "I just don't."
"No one here does, I swear. Why is it that she has to run every time I'm on duty patrolling the halls?"
"Well, how come you didn't catch her? Your best 1-mile is a 5:10!"
"I had to get a note to my girlfriend, okay?" Woodes said indignantly. "We had a bit of a fight last night and I wanted to apologize, and I couldn't find any other time, so I wrote her a letter and everything, and I slipped it to her while making like I was checking in for attendance and whatever."
"Did it work?"
"We'll find out." Woodes sighed. "Fuck. Josh, you better come with me. We gotta report that Makayla Wallace ran for it right now."
"Yeah, all right. She broke my phone, you know."
"Oh, I'm done with that girl," Woodes sighed. "I'm out of ideas. I tried everything. I try to talk to her, find a way to help her make it here, she runs off. Offered to get tutors, help coach her through, whatever." He sighed again, visibly exhausted.
"She's gotta go through this herself," Josh said. "You did all you could."
"Do you know anything about what's going on with her?"
"All I know is she's fighting some big war with her parents, mostly her mom."
"Did you hear her mom called and pulled her out of that art class she was in? With three weeks left in the semester?"
Josh stared. "She did that?" He'd been convinced it was a made-up rumor.
"Yeah. I told Dr. Lyman that was nuts when I heard about it. There's literally no reason to do that so close to the end of the semester. It's completely retarded."
"I bet Makayla took that really well."
"Oh, yeah, we can both see that."
"Hey, Josh, if I got it right, most of this comes out of Makayla Wallace going against what her parents want her to do. Mostly her mom. So, what do you do if that happens for you?"
"I am allowed to respectfully speak up if I disagree with something," Josh said. "All my siblings can do that, too. But ultimately, in my house, Mom and Dad tell you to do something, you do as you're told. My parents' word is law. Period. You follow the chain of command and follow your orders or you get busted."
"Heh, you should have a talk with my parents. They'd like to hear all that."
"I'd be glad to, next time the good Senator and his wife feel like having me and Chris over."
"You know one of you could easily make Head Boy next year if you'd just come back."
"I know."
"Then why leave?"
"Just something I gotta do. Me and Chris both. Dad has wanted us at Remington since before we were born. We have to go back."
"What's life if not trying to make your parents proud?" Woodes asked rhetorically as they entered the administration building, Trask Hall, gratefully embracing the warm air as the door closed behind them. "What's the point if you're not adding glory to the family name? And how can you be a good son or daughter if you don't obey your parents, show them the highest respect?"
Oh, boy, here we go. The Senator's son is making speeches again. He's not bad at it, though, which helps. He's gonna go far if he keeps it up.
"You're thinking like a regular Xavier student," Josh replied. "Makayla Wallace just doesn't seem to operate that way."
"So what about your phone? If you wanna raise hell, I'll back you up."
Josh considered it, but he ultimately shook his head. "No. There's no need. That girl's gonna be out of here soon enough. I'll tell my parents what happened; they'll understand. We'll just replace it."
XX
After a ten-minute meeting with the Headmaster, the two boys headed back out into the cold. Instead of returning to King Hall, however, Woodes veered off towards the Clark Hall dormitory, where he lived in the special room set aside for the Head Boy, complete with its own bathroom and shower.
"We're supposed to be on patrol," Josh said matter-of-factly.
"Just follow me," Woodes replied.
They headed in and went right to the far end of the first-floor hallway, where Woodes got out his key and unlocked the door.
"So?" Josh asked.
"One minute." Woodes closed the door behind him, then went to the footlocker he kept under his bed. He pulled out an opaque glass bottle bearing an image of a bird and the French tricolor flag, and then another, identical bottle, which he handed to Josh.
Josh stared, then grinned. Shock and awe and delight all warred for control of his facial expression.
"Grey Goose? Woodes, you can't be serious."
"I am."
"You said you were done. You said you were all done drinking for stress relief, fun, whatever. Done until 21, remember? You said that!"
"Oh, I'm done, all right," Woodes agreed. "The 8th graders this year have been pretty good, overall, but I guess they decided to pack all the trouble into just one girl this time!" He unscrewed the cap and pulled out the cork.
"At least you're not hiding it in my footlocker anymore, for Pete's sake," Josh said with a wry smile.
"Yeah. Progress. I got a bitch of a headache from that idiot kid Makayla Wallace, and end-of-term exams are gonna make me wanna drink vodka like water, but I got the best fucking Marine brats in the world going to this school with me. One day, Josh, one day, I'll make you my Secretary of Defense."
"Says the high school senior about to illegally drink imported French vodka that he's illegally hiding in his room."
"In his footlocker, which the Student Code of Conduct says is the proper place for key personal items."
"You're the Head Boy, for Pete's sake."
"Yes," Woodes said, nodding solemnly. "I should set a good example. I really should. Be a shame to let this languish in my footlocker any more than it has, though." Woodes looked around his room. "Ah, here we are, going on two in the afternoon, two illegal bottles of fine vodka, almost done with my second-to-last semester, right on the heels of an 8th grader breaking your phone and driving me crazy…" Woodes shrugged. "Cheers!" he said, and upended the bottle.
Josh grinned. He opened his own bottle, raised it, and said, "To the good life. Esto perpetua."
"To friendship," Woodes said.
"To victory in the War on Terror."
"Okay," Woodes laughed, "we'll drink to all of those things and then we gotta go back out, act like we're not totally buzzed."
"Let's do it."
"Ready when you are."
XX
A/N: 9-7-2019.
This story is the result of several back-and-forth PMs between Jenny wrens and myself. I both expressed interest in writing some kind of story set at Xavier Preparatory School, a highly-selective private boarding school located in the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area. Possessing a wait list "that starts in the womb" (as specified in Jenny wrens' story "Gibbs' Test", I believe, or if not then in "Adjustments"), XPS could be compared to Sidwell Friends School, which has been called, in real life, "the Harvard of D.C.'s private schools."
Head Boy, Head Girl, and the student rank of Prefect are all drawn from British boarding school tradition, which is where J.K. Rowling got those terms and the purposes they serve at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most elite American private schools have generally been boarding schools, and have generally styled themselves after British tradition, so I could see at least one going a step further than most and actually having Prefects, and a Head Boy and Head Girl.
Since this school has most likely been around for many decades and Latin mottoes are used almost universally by prestigious American private schools, I picked one, "Esse quam videri," which means "To be, rather than to seem." As I wrote this story, I thought of the Baird School from the 1992 film "Scent of a Woman," which was portrayed by the campus of Princeton University. I expect a school like Xavier would look quite Ivy League, too, especially if it was founded around the same time and/or made use of a similar style of architecture.
Woodes Rogers, IV is in the story mostly because I wanted a more diplomatic figure among the students I named, someone more sympathetic to Makayla Wallace and her ongoing problems. Thing is, even Woodes is basically out of ideas and feels literally driven to drink by the fact that not one thing he has tried to help has worked or done any kind of good at all. I wrote him this way because I feel someone genuinely trying to be a good diplomat and leader likely would behave that way, and because I personally feel divided about what's going on with Makayla.
On the one hand, Makayla Wallace is honestly not a good fit for a school like Xavier, which prepares students chiefly for university, for careers that are very coat-and-tie like the legal profession and academia. She would be happier and have far fewer conflicts at an art school, which is more suited to her interests and talents. Julia Wallace, in particular, is refusing to see any of that or to genuinely try to talk things out with her daughter. Makayla is under a lot of unreasonable pressure and demands, and I understand the many readers who have said Julia is pushing Makayla way too far, provoking her erratic behavior and causing her great emotional distress. At the end of Chapter 13 of "Adjustments", Gibbs is thinking quite critically of Julia and the effect her behavior and decisions are having on her daughter. I understand Gibbs' thoughts on the matter and sympathize with them.
On the other hand, Makayla has run away from Xavier several times now. She has cheated on an exam and actually been expelled once already. The Headmaster- Jenny wrens named him at some point, but I forget in which chapter of "Adjustments" or "Gibbs' Test" this was done- must be a good Christian man, as they say, a patient and forgiving man indeed. Anyone else would have thrown Makayla out and simply admitted another student in her place a while ago. And her own behavior towards the school and her parents has hardly been diplomatic or productive. She is exactly like her mother in many ways, I think- both want to have things their way and hate to back down or take "no" for an answer once they have committed themselves to something. Makayla's repeated provocations and rude and irresponsible behavior, no matter the cause, has done a lot to anger her parents and alienate her fellow students at Xavier.
Jenny wrens told me I could go ahead and help her develop the character of Melissa "Missie" Wallace, so I did that in addition to depicting Xavier directly. Melissa is a talented athlete and student, driven and much more compatible with the wants and wishes of her parents than her younger sister Makayla is. I depicted her as being about 17 in late 2005. She is not actively hostile to or unfriendly to Makayla in my depiction; just preoccupied with her own goals and not that interested in what her sister has going on.
Joshua Scott Marshall, Junior is not actively hostile or unfriendly to Makayla, either. Like Melissa, he just isn't interested. The same events that are the great struggle of Makayla's life are a mere annoyance to Josh, who mostly just cares about the fact that Makayla (in his eyes) has created a hostile environment in the Wallace house, thus making it unrealistic for him to have a formal dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Wallace, a key part of continuing his relationship with Melissa.
I cut the phone call between the Marshall children at Xavier- Cassandra, Josh, Jr., Chris, and Brittany- and their parents at MCRD Parris Island mostly for the sake of brevity, as I wanted to keep this a one-chapter story, and because my goal was to show one segment of "Adjustments," Chapter 13 from several other angles.
I depicted Melissa and Cassandra as being roommates. They're both quite driven and career-focused, so I figure they could room together and make things work without killing each other. Given that Cassandra has never really tried to be likeable, Melissa is useful as a best friend to her, as she helps soften Cassandra's blunt and often tactless speech.
Joshua Scott Marshall, Junior and his twin brother Christian Thomas Marshall are in the 11th grade (junior year of high school) as of late 2005. I estimate that "Adjustments," which this story is set in, is currently in early December 2005, as it is three weeks until the end of the semester as of Chapter 13.
Cassandra Marshall is closely based off of Colonel Cassandra Moore in the 2010 video game "Fallout: New Vegas". She is not deliberately cruel towards Makayla Wallace or anyone else; she is just highly narrow-minded, unable and unwilling to much reach out to or try to understand anyone who does not want to live or act the way she does. Cassandra sets standards extremely high for herself and everyone around her, and few ever manage to measure up. This aspect of her personality is both a strength and a weakness, just as it is for Moore and just as it was for Fleet Admiral Ernest J. King, whom I also used as an inspiration.
The behavior of the popular students depicted in one segment of this story was not in any way intended to be a documentary of any real-life private schools. I can tell you that, having gone to school on the public and private side of the fence in the United States, elitist rich jerks are NOT somehow unique to or the sole inhabitants of private schools. Anyone who thinks that such kids don't exist at public schools is just kidding themselves.
Rich kids are much like any other kids, in that they are extensively shaped by their environment, by what the adults and authority figures in their lives do and do not teach them, what they learn is and is not acceptable, what values and traits are considered virtues. "The arrogance of those to whom much is given," to quote somebody or another, combined with the arrogance of teenage youth, can make you act like a real jerk. And if the parents, in particular, do not stop it, that can become a major part of who the youth is, in high school and in adulthood. On the other hand, I have seen kids born to great money and privilege become perfectly decent, pleasant, and responsible people. Some of the boys and girls among the social elite at Xavier will grow out of their arrogant, immature behavior, some have sidestepped it already, some will always have it.
I do not actually condone underage drinking, by the way. And for that matter, neither would either Woodes Rogers, IV's parents or Josh S. Marshall, Jr.'s parents. But having been to boarding school, I can tell you that pushing and breaking rules is done at some time or another by virtually all the students, even the more responsible ones- even the ones you would think would not do it.
This story could and would never have been written without Jenny wrens' permission, support, and encouragement. Be sure to thank her and read her work if you haven't already. Leave detailed reviews. She deserves them.