Portman's POV:
When I was awakened by the sound of the alarm clock, the first thing that ran through my head was: this must be Goldberg and Averman's idea of a joke, no way is it time to wake up. When I had finished deluding myself and made to get up, my next thought was: I can't move. Maybe I took a blow to the spine last night and the paralysis is just setting in.
I tried again, and after some outraged protests by my body, succeeded. I hobbled slowly and painfully over to the alarm clock and hit the off button a little harder than intended; I could hear a faint crunching sound. I hoped it wasn't broken, that'd be the third one this year.
I went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, and saw that I had developed a nice batch of bruises over the night; my chest and arms were mottled with remnants of last night's game. My muscles were stiff and achy, and as I stood there trying to loosen them up, I looked at Fulton, who was still dead to the world. Neither he nor I were morning people; we've had to put the alarm clock on the other side of the room so that someone is obliged to get out of bed to turn it off, otherwise one of us will just hit the snooze button and go back to sleep for another couple hours.
I had stretched the stiffness out of my muscles, but I was still damn sore; I'd have to track down some painkillers before class. Speaking of which, we'd have to hurry if we didn't want to be late, it was already after eight. Everyone else at Eton got up around seven or seven-thirty, breakfast was at quarter to eight, but Fult and I normally preferred the extra half hour of sleep to Rice Krispies and wheat toast.
Time for Fulton to get up. I walked over to his bedside and stood there a moment, staring at him. I loved to watch him sleep. He was lying on his side, curled up in a ball, his hands bunched in loose fists and his mouth slightly open. Fulton doesn't snore much, but he snuffles, in a way that has always reminded me of a baby elephant. Don't ask me how, because I don't think I've ever seen a baby elephant, but I bet you anything that's the sound they make when they're asleep.
I used a lock of his hair to tickle his nose, and he shuddered, gave a few great snuffles, and turned over onto his back. Perfect. I pulled back the covers, most of which were entangled in his legs anyway, and slowly lifted up the old Chili Peppers shirt he was wearing to expose the soft white flesh of his stomach. I took a deep breath, then leant over and, pressing my lips to his skin, blew as hard as I could onto his belly button. The results were instantly gratifying. Fulton shrieked and kicked madly, forcing me to back up to avoid being clobbered. His eyes flew open and he looked around wildly, then saw me standing there laughing, and relaxed.
"I'm going to kill you," he said, slowly and calmly.
"You should have seen the look on your face! Woo-hoo! And you scream like a girl!" I had to sit down on the bed and hold my stomach, I was laughing so hard.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You'll get yours. Wait and see," he muttered, rising slowly out of bed, yawning, stretching and wincing at the pain in his body before heading to the bathroom to take a shower.
I waited until I figured he had removed his clothes, then cracked the door open and peered inside. His back was to me, and he was just stepping out of his boxers. I quietly reached my arm through the door and pinched his ass, then slammed it shut before he had a chance to turn around. I could hear him laughing through the closed door as he turned on the shower.
I went digging around in the piles of clothes and other junk trying to find the texts and notebooks Fult and I would need for class today. Let's see, first French, then Health and Lifestyles, them Fult had History and I had Math, then we both had English. I stuffed Fulton's and my books and shit into our respective backpacks, then started hunting for Tylenol. When I couldn't find any I called out loudly, "Hey Fult, we got any painkillers?"
"Yeah, in my First Aid kit under the bed. Take a couple T2's, no more, and leave some for me, huh?"
I complied, and a few minutes later Fulton reappeared, his hair dripping water everywhere and a towel around my waist. I had to force myself to look away as I handed him the pills and he swallowed them dry.
"What are they?" I asked.
"Prescription, but not hard-core like Percodan or anything. Plus, no codeine, so we should be able to stay awake in class."
"Are you kidding? French and Lifestyles? Bet Ms. Lacroix will have to wake us up again," I called out over my shoulder as I hopped into the shower.
When I got out, Fulton was fully dressed and munching on a banana. "Here," he said, tossing me an apple. "Courtesy of Connie and Guy."
As I reached out my hands to catch it, I let go of the towel I was holding around my waist, and it fell to the floor. I snatched it back as quick as I could, amid Fulton's gales of laughter.
"I can't believe that actually worked! That's the second time you've exposed yourself to me in a week! I SO got you back!" he giggled as I hurried to get dressed, keeping my back to him the entire time to hide my reddening face. "At least we know that if hockey doesn't work out, you can always have a career as a flasher!"
With that, Fulton grabbed his bag and made a run for the door as I lunged at him. I followed, crashing into him at the entrance to the hallway where he had stopped dead to avoid slamming into Connie and Guy. They had first period French as well, and always came to our dorm to walk to class with us.
"Morning guys," I grinned over Fulton's shoulder at them.
"Yeah, thanks for the fruit, it was even more entertaining than it was nutritious."
"Huh?" Connie and Guy were bewildered, and as we walked down the hall Fulton started to tell the story, though he had a pretty rough go of it with me trying to strangle him the entire time.
***
I was sitting beside Charlie in Math class, which I normally like about as much as Britney Spears music, but today it was alright. We had a substitute, and she had designated the class a 'homework and study period,' which meant that we sat around and talked while she read a Danielle Steele novel.
"So you and Banksie are alright? You took some serious hits last night."
"Oh yeah, we're fine. At least they laid off Adam's wrist."
"Man, I wanted to kill those guys. We ever play them again, we'll have some decent refs, and Fult and I'll annihilate them."
"Oooh, smell the testosterone," Charlie smiled. "What would we do without you guys? Fulton's been steamrolling anyone who messed with us since before he was even on the team. I remember when he threw Banks and the others into that garbage pile!"
"He what?" When Charlie told me the story, I laughed. That was my Fulton, alright. "How long have you known him, anyways?"
"I went to school with him since first grade, but never really talked to him much till he joined D5. Nobody did."
My interest was piqued. "What was he like then? Fulton never talks about his past. I'm his best friend and I barely know a thing about his life from before he met me."
"Yeah, he's pretty hard to get to know, isn't he? He was always kind of a legend at school and around the neighbourhood. He was so much bigger than everyone else, even when we were real young. He hardly ever talked, and he was always in trouble at school, for fighting mostly, or skipping. I saw a couple of the fights though, and it was always with big kids, normally outnumbering him, who were picking on little kids or something." I smiled at the image of an eight-year old Fulton defending the small and meek of his elementary school.
"One day some bullies were pushing me into a locker--can you believe that actually happens?--and Fulton came along and creamed them all. He helped me up, asked if I was alright, then just turned and walked away. That was right after Bombay became our coach. I'd seen Fulton shooting pucks in an alleyway near where I lived, and one day I worked up enough courage to ask him if he wanted to play with us. He looked real sad and said he couldn't. I thought it was because of the football thing."
I had heard about the football scholarship myths that had surrounded Fulton before he joined the Ducks. "What about after he joined, before me and the others came along?" I was really getting into this. I wanted to know everything about my beloved Bash Brother, and I knew I'd never get it from him.
"It was weird. He was still super quiet, and whenever we were together, he was always the last in line, or at the back of the group or whatever, but he was different. Maybe it was just because I was around him more, so I noticed him, but he seemed happier. Still, he was always sort of on the outside, looking in, you know, like he was watching us? Except when we won, then he'd be right in there, hugging and cheering with the rest of the Ducks. You were his first real friend, I think. I got him to talk to me one- on-one a few times, which was more than he did with anyone else, but still, it was like pulling teeth. I don't think he had a very nice life before the Ducks, and you really bring out the best in him."
I smiled, wishing I was hearing this from Fulton, not Charlie. "He's pretty great, isn't he?"
"Fulton? He's one of the best. I've never known anyone like him. I really think he'd die for us, if he had to."
"Yeah..." I sighed. Then I saw Charlie looking at me and quickly changed the subject. "So, how're things between you and Banksie? Marital bliss and all that?" I was still trying to process all the new information I had about Fulton, trying to put everything together to form a complete portrait of him in my mind.
"Now it was Charlie's turn to sigh. "It's good, really good. I just wish we didn't have to hide it... you know, from the rest of the Ducks."
"Who says you have to?"
"No one, I guess. Adam's all for telling them, but I'm not sure... what if it changes everything?"
"Well, change is kind of unevitable or whatever, isn't it? Besides, I don't think you'll ever know what'll happen until it happens. I say tell them. Fult and I'll take care of anyone who gives you any trouble."
"But that's just it. I don't want to be causing fights among the Ducks!"
"Look, I'm not the best at giving advice like this. It's a really big decision you're trying to make, you could use more input. Why don't you and Banks come over to our dorm after school? We'll bring Julie and Connie and Guy and talk it all over. Between us we should be able to figure something out."
Charlie was staring at me. "Portman," he said. "Anyone who ever calls you a thoughtless goon will have me to deal with."
When I was awakened by the sound of the alarm clock, the first thing that ran through my head was: this must be Goldberg and Averman's idea of a joke, no way is it time to wake up. When I had finished deluding myself and made to get up, my next thought was: I can't move. Maybe I took a blow to the spine last night and the paralysis is just setting in.
I tried again, and after some outraged protests by my body, succeeded. I hobbled slowly and painfully over to the alarm clock and hit the off button a little harder than intended; I could hear a faint crunching sound. I hoped it wasn't broken, that'd be the third one this year.
I went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, and saw that I had developed a nice batch of bruises over the night; my chest and arms were mottled with remnants of last night's game. My muscles were stiff and achy, and as I stood there trying to loosen them up, I looked at Fulton, who was still dead to the world. Neither he nor I were morning people; we've had to put the alarm clock on the other side of the room so that someone is obliged to get out of bed to turn it off, otherwise one of us will just hit the snooze button and go back to sleep for another couple hours.
I had stretched the stiffness out of my muscles, but I was still damn sore; I'd have to track down some painkillers before class. Speaking of which, we'd have to hurry if we didn't want to be late, it was already after eight. Everyone else at Eton got up around seven or seven-thirty, breakfast was at quarter to eight, but Fult and I normally preferred the extra half hour of sleep to Rice Krispies and wheat toast.
Time for Fulton to get up. I walked over to his bedside and stood there a moment, staring at him. I loved to watch him sleep. He was lying on his side, curled up in a ball, his hands bunched in loose fists and his mouth slightly open. Fulton doesn't snore much, but he snuffles, in a way that has always reminded me of a baby elephant. Don't ask me how, because I don't think I've ever seen a baby elephant, but I bet you anything that's the sound they make when they're asleep.
I used a lock of his hair to tickle his nose, and he shuddered, gave a few great snuffles, and turned over onto his back. Perfect. I pulled back the covers, most of which were entangled in his legs anyway, and slowly lifted up the old Chili Peppers shirt he was wearing to expose the soft white flesh of his stomach. I took a deep breath, then leant over and, pressing my lips to his skin, blew as hard as I could onto his belly button. The results were instantly gratifying. Fulton shrieked and kicked madly, forcing me to back up to avoid being clobbered. His eyes flew open and he looked around wildly, then saw me standing there laughing, and relaxed.
"I'm going to kill you," he said, slowly and calmly.
"You should have seen the look on your face! Woo-hoo! And you scream like a girl!" I had to sit down on the bed and hold my stomach, I was laughing so hard.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You'll get yours. Wait and see," he muttered, rising slowly out of bed, yawning, stretching and wincing at the pain in his body before heading to the bathroom to take a shower.
I waited until I figured he had removed his clothes, then cracked the door open and peered inside. His back was to me, and he was just stepping out of his boxers. I quietly reached my arm through the door and pinched his ass, then slammed it shut before he had a chance to turn around. I could hear him laughing through the closed door as he turned on the shower.
I went digging around in the piles of clothes and other junk trying to find the texts and notebooks Fult and I would need for class today. Let's see, first French, then Health and Lifestyles, them Fult had History and I had Math, then we both had English. I stuffed Fulton's and my books and shit into our respective backpacks, then started hunting for Tylenol. When I couldn't find any I called out loudly, "Hey Fult, we got any painkillers?"
"Yeah, in my First Aid kit under the bed. Take a couple T2's, no more, and leave some for me, huh?"
I complied, and a few minutes later Fulton reappeared, his hair dripping water everywhere and a towel around my waist. I had to force myself to look away as I handed him the pills and he swallowed them dry.
"What are they?" I asked.
"Prescription, but not hard-core like Percodan or anything. Plus, no codeine, so we should be able to stay awake in class."
"Are you kidding? French and Lifestyles? Bet Ms. Lacroix will have to wake us up again," I called out over my shoulder as I hopped into the shower.
When I got out, Fulton was fully dressed and munching on a banana. "Here," he said, tossing me an apple. "Courtesy of Connie and Guy."
As I reached out my hands to catch it, I let go of the towel I was holding around my waist, and it fell to the floor. I snatched it back as quick as I could, amid Fulton's gales of laughter.
"I can't believe that actually worked! That's the second time you've exposed yourself to me in a week! I SO got you back!" he giggled as I hurried to get dressed, keeping my back to him the entire time to hide my reddening face. "At least we know that if hockey doesn't work out, you can always have a career as a flasher!"
With that, Fulton grabbed his bag and made a run for the door as I lunged at him. I followed, crashing into him at the entrance to the hallway where he had stopped dead to avoid slamming into Connie and Guy. They had first period French as well, and always came to our dorm to walk to class with us.
"Morning guys," I grinned over Fulton's shoulder at them.
"Yeah, thanks for the fruit, it was even more entertaining than it was nutritious."
"Huh?" Connie and Guy were bewildered, and as we walked down the hall Fulton started to tell the story, though he had a pretty rough go of it with me trying to strangle him the entire time.
***
I was sitting beside Charlie in Math class, which I normally like about as much as Britney Spears music, but today it was alright. We had a substitute, and she had designated the class a 'homework and study period,' which meant that we sat around and talked while she read a Danielle Steele novel.
"So you and Banksie are alright? You took some serious hits last night."
"Oh yeah, we're fine. At least they laid off Adam's wrist."
"Man, I wanted to kill those guys. We ever play them again, we'll have some decent refs, and Fult and I'll annihilate them."
"Oooh, smell the testosterone," Charlie smiled. "What would we do without you guys? Fulton's been steamrolling anyone who messed with us since before he was even on the team. I remember when he threw Banks and the others into that garbage pile!"
"He what?" When Charlie told me the story, I laughed. That was my Fulton, alright. "How long have you known him, anyways?"
"I went to school with him since first grade, but never really talked to him much till he joined D5. Nobody did."
My interest was piqued. "What was he like then? Fulton never talks about his past. I'm his best friend and I barely know a thing about his life from before he met me."
"Yeah, he's pretty hard to get to know, isn't he? He was always kind of a legend at school and around the neighbourhood. He was so much bigger than everyone else, even when we were real young. He hardly ever talked, and he was always in trouble at school, for fighting mostly, or skipping. I saw a couple of the fights though, and it was always with big kids, normally outnumbering him, who were picking on little kids or something." I smiled at the image of an eight-year old Fulton defending the small and meek of his elementary school.
"One day some bullies were pushing me into a locker--can you believe that actually happens?--and Fulton came along and creamed them all. He helped me up, asked if I was alright, then just turned and walked away. That was right after Bombay became our coach. I'd seen Fulton shooting pucks in an alleyway near where I lived, and one day I worked up enough courage to ask him if he wanted to play with us. He looked real sad and said he couldn't. I thought it was because of the football thing."
I had heard about the football scholarship myths that had surrounded Fulton before he joined the Ducks. "What about after he joined, before me and the others came along?" I was really getting into this. I wanted to know everything about my beloved Bash Brother, and I knew I'd never get it from him.
"It was weird. He was still super quiet, and whenever we were together, he was always the last in line, or at the back of the group or whatever, but he was different. Maybe it was just because I was around him more, so I noticed him, but he seemed happier. Still, he was always sort of on the outside, looking in, you know, like he was watching us? Except when we won, then he'd be right in there, hugging and cheering with the rest of the Ducks. You were his first real friend, I think. I got him to talk to me one- on-one a few times, which was more than he did with anyone else, but still, it was like pulling teeth. I don't think he had a very nice life before the Ducks, and you really bring out the best in him."
I smiled, wishing I was hearing this from Fulton, not Charlie. "He's pretty great, isn't he?"
"Fulton? He's one of the best. I've never known anyone like him. I really think he'd die for us, if he had to."
"Yeah..." I sighed. Then I saw Charlie looking at me and quickly changed the subject. "So, how're things between you and Banksie? Marital bliss and all that?" I was still trying to process all the new information I had about Fulton, trying to put everything together to form a complete portrait of him in my mind.
"Now it was Charlie's turn to sigh. "It's good, really good. I just wish we didn't have to hide it... you know, from the rest of the Ducks."
"Who says you have to?"
"No one, I guess. Adam's all for telling them, but I'm not sure... what if it changes everything?"
"Well, change is kind of unevitable or whatever, isn't it? Besides, I don't think you'll ever know what'll happen until it happens. I say tell them. Fult and I'll take care of anyone who gives you any trouble."
"But that's just it. I don't want to be causing fights among the Ducks!"
"Look, I'm not the best at giving advice like this. It's a really big decision you're trying to make, you could use more input. Why don't you and Banks come over to our dorm after school? We'll bring Julie and Connie and Guy and talk it all over. Between us we should be able to figure something out."
Charlie was staring at me. "Portman," he said. "Anyone who ever calls you a thoughtless goon will have me to deal with."