Chapter Ten - Hey, [Warren Cheswick]!
Your eyes still remind me of
Angels that hover above
Eyes that can change from blind to blue
"Hey, Johnny Park!" Foo Fighters
[Warren's POV]
"I'm telling you, Mark, this woman will be my wife."
Mark's laughing in my face. He really doesn't see it does he? What a fool.
"Cheswick, I really think you've lost your mind." He says, turning toward his locker. I lean on the locker beside his, shocked at the fact that my best friend isn't supporting me in this endeavor. "First of all, she's drop dead gorgeous, and you are...well you're you. Second of all, she's got to be atleast 27. And you, my friend, are a wee seventeen years of age."
"Love has no age." I say simply. And it doesn't. So there.
"Ha. Tell the cops that." Mark retorts. Hey, I'll be 18 in less than a month, thank you very much...
"Oh ye of little faith," I say shaking my finger in Mark's facee. "With an attitude like that, you're practically begging to be snubbed from our guest list."
"And what guest list might this be?" Diane asks, coming up behind us.
"To his wedding." Mark answers, rolling his eyes.
"Wedding?" Diane responds, looking confused. And that is a rarity right there. Little Miss "I know the all the secrets of the world" actually looks confused. Whoa. "If you're talking about Ms. Hanton, Cheswick, she's so out of your league."
"What?" I exclaim, shocked that she too isn't being supportive.
"Thank you Diane." Mark adds in as we turn the corner. "This boy needs to be brought back to the real world."
"Do you even know anything about this woman?" Diane asks, condescendingly.
Why must she be so elitist? It's quite unbecoming if I do say so myself. She's just jealous that I'm not going after her anymore and have set my eyes on a new beauty. Jealousy, jealous, she's jealous of me-e-e.
Yeah, can't say that out loud or she'll kick my ass.
"Beside the fact that she's got a body like a Greek goddess and the face to match." Mark always has the ability to take the words right out of my mouth. The boy's got a gift.
What else do I need to know?
I frantically try to think of something, anything, to say to win over these two as we walk into the classroom of our new history elective.
"So what if I don't know anything about her? Have you guys ever heard of a little something called love at first sight?"
Wouldn't you expect your best friends to support you if you were about to undertake the biggest task of your lifetime? Winning the love of your life's heart? Clearly they aren't real friends. They simply associate themselves with me because of my high social status.
Of course.
"No such thing." Diane replies quickly.
This girl really is one sad excuse for a human being. Elitist and loveless. Tis a sad tale.
"You can't tell me you don't believe in love at first sight." I say in disbelief.
"I--" Diane starts but stops suddenly as our new history teacher walks through the door.
Wait a second, this guys looks familiar...
Dude! He's that guy who wrestled Big Willie! How Cool!
We are going to be educated by Stuckeyville greatness!
"Scratch that." Diane says, dazed.
Wa--Wa--Wait a second.
I snap my head towards a love striken Diane, then back at our teacher. I must admit, the guy is good looking. And I mean that in a completely heterosexual way. I swear!
A smile slowly spreads across my face as the reality hits me. This Diane who claims to be "too cool" for crushes...that "doesn't believe" in love at first sight, has fallen victim to her own...
Okay, I don't know what she's fallen victim to, but let's just say...
She saw his face, and now she's a believer.
Gotta love those Monkees. M-O-N-K-E-E-S. I would give anything to be Davey Jones. Anything.
"Diane? Diane? Hello?" I hear Mark call out, waving his hand in her face.
"Aw, does Diane-Wiane have a wittle cwushy-wushy?" I ask in a baby voice. There's no doubt about it, I rock the baby voice unlike anyone before me.
Diane shakes herself out of her hormone induced stupor.
"Cheswick? Never, and I mean never do that again." She says, turning to me.
"What? I thought it was good..." I start, but can't continue as Mark drowns me out.
"Hello, Diane. If we're going to be a couple, neither one of us can be drooling over other men. Uh, and women...You get what I mean." Mark has worked himself into a little tizzy.
"Hahahaha, yeah Mark, don't go drooling over any men." I say, pulling my books out of my bag and placing them on my desk.
"Shut up, Cheswick." They both say at the same time. How rude.
"I was just kidding, Mark," Diane says with a laugh as she turns towards him. "Plus, it's not like he's gonna steal me away from you or anything."
Mark looks up at our teacher wearily then back at Diane.
If I were him, I'd chain Diane up in her room and never let her leave. We've got a heartbreaker on our hands.
Dude, that means I should probably make sure this character and Ms. Hanton avoid each other at all costs. There's no way I'm going to let anyone steal my woman away from me.
"Alright, I guess we can start class now," he says walking up from behind his desk. "I'm going to be teaching this elective for the next few weeks, until Mr. Smith comes back from his maternity leave with his wife. My name is Mr. Saunders, and welcome to European History."
I frantically turn around and scan the room. Okay, this is crazy. I have never seen twelve senior girls simultaneously break out into a fit of hushed giggles and whispers and Diane start fluttering her eyelashes. Why do they find this man so undeniably sexy? I'll definitely have to take lessons, there's no doubt about it...
"I guess I'll start by learning names. Uh, I guess we can start with you," he points to me and I look kinda shocked at first, but recover quickly. "Yeah, you. Um, why don't you tell us all your name...or whatever nickname you want to be called by and an interesting fact about yourself."
"Uhh, okay...Uhh...My name is Warren Cheswick, but my friends call me The Chez."
"No, Cheswick, no one calls you that."
"It's in limited release," I say, shaking my head and smiling. Crap, the sweat is coming. Why did I have to inherit my father's uncontrollable glands?! If I can't keep my cool with this guy, how am I going to do it with Ms. Hanton?!
He's laughing. Oh God, now even he's laughing at me.
"That's so strange. I used to say the same thing in High School..." He starts, walking over to my desk. "I used to always tell people to call me these insane names...like things you would never ever call someone in public or want to be called. Just so I could be like 'Hey, my name is Michael but my friends call me 'Balls of Steel.'" Everyone laughs. Okay, I've officially decided, this guy is the coolest teacher ever. "So yeah, of course no one would call me that, but whenever people would ask if I had any nicknames I'd tell them, but always say 'it's in limited release.' Isn't that insane?"
Holy crap, I'm a young Mr. Saunders. When I get older I will have the women swarming all over me, and maybe will outgrow my inability to speak coherently to hot girls. I will be his deciple. I declare it here and now.
"Yeah," I say with a wide smile.
"So, Warren...or 'The Chez' rather..." he says, turning back towards me. "One thing about yourself."
"Uhhh...I don't...know..." How the Hell am I supposed to know what to say? I'm the most uninteresting person on the face of the earth. Hell, I hired a girl from an escort service to take me to the prom.
"Oh, come on, anything." He replies.
"Umm..."
"He writes poetry and enjoys long walks on the beach." I hear Mark say from behind me. Damn you, Marcus.
"Ha, ha, very funny," I say turning around.
"Okay, I'll let you off the hook this time," Mr Saunders says, pointing to Mark behind me. "What about you? Name and one fact."
"I'm Mark. My friends call me...Mark. And my favorite movie is 'The Matrix.'"
"Oh, excellent movie." He says with a grin. "Definitely on my top ten list. Nothing beats the subway scene. Nothing."
"For sure." Mark says, smiling.
Okay, this must be some sort of record. This guy has won over the whole class already, I can tell.
"And you?"
"My name is Sam, and I play Basketball and Baseball."
"What position in baseball?" He asks. A jock. Perfect, he just had to be a jock, didn't he.
"Third base."
"The hot corner, baby!" He says excitedly. "I was actually a pitcher, back in the day. Baseball...What a sport. Go Mets. And none of you can ever say anything bad about my Mets or you'll automatically fail, and I mean it." He says laughing. "Okay, what about you?"
"My name is Michelle, and I'm currently available."
You've got to be kidding me. This is beyond crazy.
He laughs it off and raises his eyebrows.
"Good to know."
~~~
"Okay, I know we didn't get to much today, but I'm expecting you all to have the first assignment read by tomorrow. This class will be moving at a pretty fast pace and you don't want to be left in the dust because you'll only be hurting yourself." Mr Saunders calls out as we all gather our books and make our way out of the room.
What is Diane doing?
I exchange a glance with Mark as we make our way to Mr. Saunders's desk. She is so smitten it's sick. And that's a lot coming from Warren P. Cheswick. The king of smitten-ness.
"Okay, awesome." He says, looking up from his papers. "That sounds great, Diane."
"Great!" She exclaims, looking back at Mark. She loops her arm in Mark's, as a sort of sign I suppose.
"I'll see you guys later, then."
"Wait, Mr. Saunders...I was wondering if you're friends with Ed Stevens." I ask suddenly.
"Yeah, me and Ed went to college together. Why do you ask, Warren?" He replies.
"Oh, I was just wondering. Me and Ed...we're tight, man." I say doing the classic Chez head nod.
"I see..." He says smiling. "You know what, guys? I'm actually really looking forward to the rest of my time here. You Stuckeyville kids seem pretty cool."
He called me cool!
Uh, I mean us.
"Thanks, Mr. Saunders."
"Yeah, no problem, Mark. You three especially remind me a lot of myself and the friends I had back in High School."
"You've got to be kidding me," I say in shock. There's no way this man right here was like me in High School. No way.
"No, really!" He says with a laugh. "I actually moved to the US from France when I was a Freshman, and I guess you could say the 'popular clique' didn't really accept the skinny little french boy. But that didn't bother me. I made some amazing friends in High School that I still keep in touch with. And I guess sports kind of broke the ice between me and some of those other kids that I thought hated me. Oh man, sorry for making you guys walk down memory lane with me."
"You're from France?" Diane asks, in awe. "You don't even have an accent."
"Yeah, well...I can whip it out when I really want to." He says with a grin.
Dude, I can do that with a British accent. I hear the chicks really dig guys with accents.
"Do it!" Diane exclaims giddily. Whoa there girl, calm yourself.
"I don't think so." He says, laughing. "You guys should probably get to class..."
"Oh crap!" I exclaim, smacking my head and motioning to Mark. "Dude, we need to get out fast!"
There's no way I'm going to be late to my first class with the woman of my dreams. The first impression is what always lasts, that's what they say...
"See ya later Mr. Saunders," I call over my shoulder as I practically sprint out the door and down the hall.
"Calm down, Cheswick. You're never on time to class anyway." Mark calls out from behind me.
"Yeah, that's exactly the problem!" I exclaim as I round the corner. Damn these cursed stairwells.
I jump them two at a time and swing through the doors and go to my left.
Somehow my ass finds a seat a second before the bell rings.
Breathe in, breathe out. Come on, catch it...catch it...
Being out of breathe is definitely not hot. Definitely not.
There we go. You got this Warren, you got this...
Holy sh-t, I don't got this.
There she is.
Walking through the door, with Diane and Mark right behind her. She's so incredibly glorious. Good God. Just answer me this: How can someone be so amazingly perfect? Her hair is the perfect degree of bouncy and it curls out in a way that makes you just think, "My God, she can't be real." The white v-neck sweater she's wearing hugs her body perfectly -- not too tight, not too loose. I'm in heaven. I have died and gone to heaven and she is an angel, leading me to this other world of utter perfection...
"Warren...Warren!!" Mark nudges me and is whispering my name loudly. Why does he always have to ruin my wonderful day dreams?
"Mark--"
"Ah yes, Warren. I think we've met already, haven't we?" She's speaking to me. Oh God, she's speaking to me. What do I do? How do you speak again? I can't seem to move my lips...I could try to lift my hands and start speaking in sign language...
Dammit, I don't know sign language!
SPEAK!
"Yes."
I'm a failure. A complete and utter failure. I don't deserve to even be graced by this beauiful maiden's presence. I might as well just sink into my seat and act like nothing happened. Atleast I'll still be able to watch her...Bask in the glory that is Sydney Hanton.
"Okay, let me see if I can get this right on the first try...we've got Warren. Mark. Diane. Christopher. Janie..."
Sigh.
Three words: Glory Glory Hallelujah.
~~~
[Syd's POV]
"Chapters one through three by tomorrow!" I call out to the herd of teenagers that are frantically stampeding through the door. Am I really that boring? Well, I guess when you're seventeen and eighteen everything is boring but the opposite sex.
That doesn't necessarily change with age...
I sit down at my desk (How wierd is that? My desk. Ha.) and look down at my schedule book. Kids are still filing out as I catch a glimpse of a student who looks quite out of place, raise his hand from his seat.
I raise my head and a huge grin spreads across my face.
What is he doing here? It's definitely 1:15...
"Ms. Hanton?" He calls out, lowering his hand as he stands up. "I had a question about the reading for tonight."
"And what might that be, Michael?" I ask, sauntering over to the other side of my desk, leaning against the front.
"I don't plan on doing it." He says simply, placing his hands on my waist as he brings his face closer to mine.
"And why might that be?" I ask.
"See, my girlfriend is really...demanding in bed..."
"Oh really?" I ask, a laugh barely escaping my mouth before I'm cut off by his lips on mine. Wow. I've kissed him about a million times since our first one outside the Smiling Goat a couple days ago, but he never ceases to amaze me. That bolt of electricity that shoots between us gives me a rush unlike anything I've ever experienced in my life. I can't help but wonder if this is what love feels like without any restrictions.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, grinning like a fool as we pull apart. I watch him as he walks around my desk, sits in my chair and leans back.
"I came to visit you of course." He says, playing with the pencil on my desk.
"Clearly," I say, rolling my eyes. "I mean, why aren't you at work?"
"I am at work." He says grinning. You mean...
"You're teaching here too?!" I ask excitedly. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
"You never asked," he replies happily.
"I never knew you were interested in teaching." I say, walking to where he is, leaning on the desk.
"I'm not. But I figured it couldn't be that bad. I enjoyed High School and I love European History so I might as well go for it. It's definitely better than working with Phil and Shirley and Eli at the Stuckeybowl."
"I'll give you that," I respond, laughing as he pulls me onto his lap. "Michael, what if the students see us?" Yeah, seeing your teacher sitting on your other teacher's lap making out would be more than a little bit creepy to me if I were a student.
"Who cares?" He retorts with a chuckle as he pulls me into another kiss.
Yeah, I have to second the 'Who cares?'
I'm pretty sure I'm still in another world when he leans in and whispers in my ear.
"I have free this period, and I know you do too...There's a janitor's closet a couple doors down..."
I giggle (don't get me started on the resurgence of the giggle in Sydney Bristow's life...Or Hanton...whatever) and slap his chest playfully.
"Michael, I think that would be overstepping our boundries...Office protocol..." I say, smiling as I feel his lips on my neck. This definitely can't be in accordance with school regulation...
"Screw protocol," he says, grinning against my neck. I laugh as I pull his head up to face me.
"Good one, Mikey --" All of a sudden, I hear a faint cough from my doorway. A meager attempt (to say the least) at a clearing of the throat. I blush deeply as I get off Michael's lap and straighten my clothes and look up to see who it is.
Warren.
And he looks heartbroken. Oh God...
~~~
[Warren's POV]
I don't think I can breathe.
No, I definitely can't breathe.
All I know is...
This is war.
ALL OUT F--KING WAR.
Which kinda sucks, come to think about it, because I really like Mr. Saunders. Too bad his ass will be kicked Warren P. Cheswick style, come tomorrow night. Indeed.
"Oh, Warren, uhh...Did you have a question?" Ms. Hanton asks me. She looks flustered. Yup, she probably would be after all that mackin'.
Mr. Saunders gets up and clears his throat. He walks around the table and touches my woman's hand as he says some sort of goodbye. The bastard.
"See ya, Warren." I don't know what his strategy is, but it must involve being obscenely nice. He smiles at me nicely as he makes his way out. Even pats me on the back. How dare he lay a finger upon me?! That's it.
That's. It.
"So...?"
I shake my head, trying to remember what lame excuse I was going to use to see Ms. Hanton. But I can't remember anything; my mind is blank and all I can see is the future Mrs. Warren Cheswick sitting on Mr. Saunders's lap, laughing and kissing.
I think I'm gonna puke. This wasn't supposed to happen.
"I'm sorry, Ms...Uhhh...Hanton...Uh...I realized I didn't write our assignment down, I was hoping you could tell me what it...Uh...was again...?"
That's horrible. Just horrible.
"Yeah, It's chapters one through three. For tomorrow." She smiles at me as if nothing just happened. As if she didn't just break my heart into a million tiny little peices, light them on fire, and stomp all over the ashes. I'm hopeless.
"Thanks," I say turning around quickly and not turning back.
Time for a strategy change. I don't know what I'm going to do, and I don't know how, but I definitely know who to go to for help.
Ed.
END CHAPTER TEN
