~ Chapter Five
Marty should have known that this was all a set up. The Guardian Academy was the world's biggest snooze fest. The accommodations were plebeian. He missed Steve. The classes were terribly boring. He missed Steve. They all centered on morals and ethics within the parameters of guardian angel powers. He missed Steve. Not even one nifty little parlour trick. He missed Steve. And it was a place of perpetual rainfall. This was pretty appropriate because Marty felt like crying.
It had taken him about four hours before he decided to pop away quickly and visit Steve. Only to discover he couldn't. A little red-headed man in a green coat informed him that such classes held extreme mandatory practises once you registered, because otherwise they couldn't fill their student quota. Whatever that meant.
Maybe this was good for him. He'd been this side of an irrepressible crush for so long it had nearly killed him. And what was worse, Steve didn't seem to have a clue. . .
Do you really think I'm a good date? Yeah! 'Cause you were being yourself. And girls like that. Besides, you are cute. Shut up. No, you've got a young Conrad O'Brian thing going. And you have great eyes. I said, shut up. Alright, alright.
And it wasn't like Steve was suddenly going to wake up one morning and get a clue. . . Marty could just see it. . .
Steve: {Sits up in bed, pushing back those pale blue covers (So, so soft) with a great big smile on his face} "Hey, Marty, I think I've just realized something."
Marty: "Yes, Steve?" {Distracted look, perhaps innocently thumbing the pages of the Guardian Angel Manuel}
Steve: "I think we are soulmates, man." {Deep, deep bottomless ocean look to his eyes. The one that just made Marty . . . curl, all over and inside.}
Marty: "Really, Steve?" {A little breathless, poised for disappointment}
Steve: "Really, Marty. Come over here so I can suck on your tonsils."
Okay, he'd really spent too much time on that little fantasy. Hey, he was a healthy red-blooded typical American teenager. Except for the gay part. And the dead part. I really have to stop thinking. . . Okay, now. . . No, now. . . No, Steve in spandex. . . Noooooooo!!!!!!
"Left a love back home did'cha fella?"
Marty looked up. Oh my god, it was the Jolly Green Giant.
"Nope, his cousin, Lolly."
Lolly? Like a candy? Or a really bad euphemism?
"You've got a pretty dirty mind there, fella."
"YOU READ MINDS?"
"Yeah, we'll just call it a perk." Lolly smiled, showing yellowy teeth.
"Oh, man, haven't you heard of extra whitening?" Marty couldn't help himself; his mouth had a tendency to run away with him. And it got him a double viewing.
"So you're a Guardian Angel in love with your charge, huh?" It was a gentle jab.
"Point taken." Marty shook his head, and turned bright red.
"He looks like a real sweetie."
"He is." A trifle defiantly.
"Yeah, cute ass, too."
"Hey! That's my Fantasy Steve's ass you're ogling!" Marty was indignant "And it's not cute, it's . . ." Freaking amazingly hot. And firm. And warm. And yes, he did on occasion engage in a little male-bonding style ass-slapping, what was it to you? . . . He turned absolutely bright red.
"I think you should tell him."
"Steve?!? He'd crawl into a corner and die."
"You never know about these sorts of things." Lolly said enigmatically. And added, "And it's a hell of a package to just write off. . ." He wiggled his eyebrows (big green bushes) speculatively.
This was definitely very, very bad for him. He had a lot more control over his thoughts when Steve standing four feet away from him. Call it incentive.
