Better Hallway Vision

by: UnicornPammy

A/N: Here it is, folks, the long-awaited chapter 10. Ain't it purty? Anyway, sorry for the abominable delay, work has been hell lately, and I've been on such an odd sleep schedule that I can't seem to get anything done when I'm not at work. But thanks to Kendall's fine beta work and Vodka's exasperated badgering, I've managed to crank out a word or two. Hope y'all enjoy. As always, reviews are warmly received. I truly appreciate them. I'm hoping that it won't take as long to get chapter 11 out.

Disclaimer: I'll give them back, I promise. They may be a little roughed up, but otherwise they'll be as good as new. Except maybe scarred for the rest of their fictional lives.

Chapter 10: Two Steps Back

Andy parked his mom's station wagon in the half-empty parking lot of the Shops at Shermer Forest. It was Sunday, so the mall had closed earlier than it did the rest of the week. He didn't know why he'd come back; all he knew was that he didn't want to go home just yet. The current of excitement and joy running through him was too nascent, too wonderful to be destroyed by his father's disapproval.

He sat outside the food court for a while, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, and then tracing the silver VW emblem in the center of it. He hadn't really wanted to go to the mall at all today. Of course, now he was glad he had. His friend Ron had called him that afternoon, begging Andy to come help him out by going on a double date with some rival-school cheerleader and her no-doubt ugly friend. The ugly friend reserved, of course, for Andy.

He'd left the house, gotten in the car, started it up, all by rote. Not even considering turning Ron down, even though he didn't want to go. He was actually at the mall when he realized that once again, he wasn't thinking for himself. When was he going to start doing so?

Andy suddenly heard a familiar laugh, and glanced out the window into the fading midafternoon. Twilight would arrive in a very short while, but there was still enough sun to set Claire's unmistakeable red hair ablaze. She was walking across the parking lot, laden down with shopping bags. Her companion was someone he remembered from middle school, someone who had not joined the rest of them in high school. She must have moved away. She had grown up, he noticed. Her mousy brown hair had become thick and slightly wavy, falling somewhere in between her shoulder blades and her waist. The plaid school-girl skirt she wore accentuated her athletic legs. She had the calves of a softball player, muscular instead of sleek, but still very attractive.

He caught himself thinking of her in a purely sexual way. Familiar feelings of guilt washed over him. He'd just left a girl that he already had very strong feelings for, and here he was wanting the next mildly attractive girl he saw. Andy shook his head, not allowing himself to watch as the duo passed by his car. He tried to pull Allison's face before his mind's eye, and tried not to think about the fact that he had never noticed her before yesterday; or that when he had, the first thing he'd done was share a laugh with Claire at her expense.

There was a hesitant tap on his window. Andy jerked his head around, startled. And saw something that he had never seen before: A nervous, self-conscious Claire. Her friend--Andy found he couldn't remember her name--stood a bit to Claire's left, looking puzzled and a little annoyed.

After an awkward moment of indecision, Andy finally decided he should roll down his window. He'd said he wouldn't treat any of the others in detention as anything less than a friend. And he would not. So why did he dread talking to Claire, of all people?

"Hi," she said as his window rolled down, her breath escaping on a white cloud of vapor. Everything about her was unsure, from her posture as she bent down to look him in the eye, to her expression, to the self-conscious tremble in her voice. She clutched her packages to her chest like a lifeline, her only defense against rejection.

"Hi." Andy noticed an odd shadow on her left cheek, one that didn't shift as Claire looked back over her shoulder to cast a meaningful glance at her friend. What kind of meaning the look carried, he couldn't tell. When she turned back to him, her friend was politely moving a short distance away, and Andy found he couldn't take his eyes off the mark on her face. Anger started to burn in his chest.

"I, um," she started, then stopped. Began again. "Are you waiting for someone?" Her insecurity was uncharacteristic, and it made Andy feel uneasy. It was something different, something he wasn't used to. He was accustomed to girls like her being arrogant and full of themselves, so sure of their own self-worth. And he knew full well that Claire could definitely be that kind of girl. But this...this fragile vulnerability made him want to pull away.

And Andy, thickheaded Andy, insular and self-absorbed Andy, actually knew the reason why. She was putting so much faith in him, so much trust that he would keep his promise. And he was so damn afraid of letting her down. Of letting all of them down. Especially Allison.

So he turned to the only defense he could think of on short notice: Shift the attention to somebody else.

"Did John Bender do that to you?" he said, ignoring her question, infusing his voice with righteous anger.

At first Claire looked shocked, her eyes widening, her mouth slightly parted. Then her teeth snapped together as her jaw set in fury, and she straightened. He heard the grind of her heel against pavement as she spun and walked briskly away. "Bastard!" she tossed over her shoulder, turning her head slightly but not really looking back. He caught the look of consternation on her friend's face as she tried to keep up with Claire.

Andy rolled up the window slowly, knowing he'd blown it. "Damn it," he whispered, clenching his fingers around the leather-wrapped steering wheel. Then he smacked the dash with the heel of his right hand. "Shit!"

His memory of Allison's face looked at him with disgust, then also turned away.

OoOoOoOoOo

Jason Clark was asleep in the den, the flickering lights from the television playing over his flaccid face as his snores drowned out the basketball game in progress. Andy stood in the doorway, just watching his dad. Wanting to wake him up and tell him about his day. But what would his dad have to say about Andy spending the day with a girl? He found that he didn't want to hear his dad belittle what he was feeling by telling him that girls could wait. College couldn't. That's what his dad had told his brothers. That's all he could imagine his old man saying to him.

Andy shook his head and moved away from the den into the kitchen to say hello to his mother. Even though he had just eaten with Allison, he was already hungry again, and he could smell something good cooking in the kitchen. Sarah Clark was busy whipping potatoes with a hand blender.

"Hey, Ma," he said, kissing her cheek and going to the fridge to dig out a Coke.

"Hello, honey. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. Meatloaf." She winked at him.

Meatloaf, his father's favorite dinner. His mom was trying to put his dad into a good mood. He gave her a half-smile of thanks, knowing the expression was weak and transparent. He left the kitchen to go upstairs, defeat and weariness weighing across his shoulders like a 300 lb. barbell.

OoOoOoOoOo

As her youngest walked away, probably seeking his bedroom, Sarah felt so much anger toward her husband she didn't know what to do with it. Of course, mingled in with that anger was her own guilt. Andy looked so heart-broken, and it was partially her fault. Jason had told her what Andy had said about quitting the wrestling team.

"Why does he want to quit!" Jason had yelled incredulously the night before, pacing the bedroom while Sarah was sitting up in bed reading a book. "This is his chance. This is his ride!" Then he turned to her, and she saw he was genuinely confused. He didn't understand what the constant pressure was doing to their son.

Sarah put down her book and sighed. "He's probably tired, Jason. You've been riding him so hard lately."

"He's gotta win, Sarah. Big colleges don't take losers."

"He's going to burn out, honey. I saw him limping around yesterday because his knee hurt. Lay off him a little. Just...leave him alone for a while."

And that's exactly what her meat-head husband was doing. He was so literal sometimes. Except he didn't realize what it was doing to Andy. She felt for her son. He'd wanted his father's attention so much when he was younger. But Jason had had such a hard time trying to give his attention to five boys. Then, when it was just Andy, he got ALL of it. He went from being starved to being smothered. Neither extreme was healthy.

Sarah knew what Andy had done to that poor Lester kid. Instead of being angry, though, she'd just felt sad. Sad that Andy had felt the need to do something like that to please his father. She'd seen the guilt written on her son's face, how it haunted him. All she could do was shake her head. The rift between her husband and her son caused her so much pain, but they were the only ones who could fix it.

OoOoOoOoOo

Andy sat on his weight bench, doing biceps curls with a 25 lb dumbell. He finished a set and stopped, lowering the weight back to its rack. Why am I doing this? he thought. If I'm quitting the wrestling team, why am I still pushing myself so hard? Was it habit? Or had he only been trying to get a reaction when he'd told his dad that he wanted to quit the wrestling team? Both, maybe. He was supposed to feel relieved now, right? Now that he'd taken a stand against his father. He should feel good about himself.

He felt like the biggest, smelliest pile of shit in the state of Illinois. And it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Claire's shocked expression haunted him. Oh, God, if he could only take back those words, he'd do it so goddamn fast... Why? What had possessed him? What stupid, testosterone-laden non-thought had driven him to muster his own sense of self-worth by putting someone else down?

Andy, that's all you ever do. Or had you forgotten Larry's now-immortal, hairy ass?

His mother called from downstairs, telling him dinner was ready. He stood, shaking out his arms then stretching them. More worries poured over his head, pooling in his stomach and hardening into a ball there. Would his dad talk to him? Would he even look at him?

He went down and sat in his usual seat, thinking how lonely it was around the big table. A table that used to hold four other boys, all athletic and strong. He'd have thought his dad would be satisfied by now. Four star athlete sons attending big name colleges that he didn't have to pay for, because they all got scholarships and grants. Basketball, baseball, football, lacrosse.

Andy heard the television in the den turn up louder, knew that his dad was preparing to come into the dining room He wanted to be able to eat and still hear the game. Andy's youngest brother--who was still four years older than Andy--was a senior at Illinois, and he was playing in the televised game tonight.

Each of his brothers was a bright star in the Big Ten heavens. The eldest had been into lacrosse, and was now in law school finishing up his degree. The second eldest, the baseball star, was still in graduate school for communications. He wanted to be a sports writer. They've got it all figured out, he thought. They know what they want. The third eldest was on track to go to the NFL. He was possibly the best kicker Michigan State had ever seen. And his youngest brother attended the same school the eldest had, and on a full basketball scholarship. They're gonna have great, successful lives. They never had a problem letting Dad tell them what to do. He told them what he wanted out of them, and they did it. They gave him what he wanted. Why can't I do the same?

Jason Clark came into the dining room and sat at the table, grunting as he lowered himself into his chair.

Can I? Andy thought. Can I do it long enough to get out of here? He choked down the sudden rush of prideful stubbornness that filled his chest, fighting against the impulse to sell out. Can I say it? '"Dad, I was just kidding. I'm not quitting the wrestling team."'

Andy jumped as Sarah brought the meat loaf in and set it down in the center of the table.

"Oh, Andy, can you set the table?"

He looked up at his mother. "Uh, sure." He got up and grabbed plates and silverware from the big china cabinet in the corner.

His dad didn't look at him as Andy set a plate in front of him.

Andy sat just as his mother came back in with the mashed potatoes. He loaded food onto his plate, his hands shaking.

Can I say it?

He opened his mouth, about to form the words. He shoved a forkful of meatloaf in it instead. I can't do it. I can't do it. Allison's face stared at him from his mind's eye. "He can't think for himself."

Yes I can. I can. I won't do it. I won't sell out.

Claire's face replaced Allison's in his mind. And her eyes told him that he already had.