I tried to pick up my cat and he got mad and scratched me so I bled all over the keyboard while writing this and I didn't realize cause I touchtyped oh well *sigh* #demoncat
Chapter two, yaas! I really hope some people read this because I really like this story and/or don't want the Stand By Me fandom to die out yet
Love,
-Tommy
Gordie looked around the long hallway. Boys ran about, jogging to make it to class before the bell. The entrance hall was surprisingly bright and sunny-far from what Gordie had expected it to be. A large main hall inhabited most of the first floor, at the end of which stood a large flight of stone steps, illuminated by the custom blush-blue and navy indigo stained glass, depicting various mottos of the school and the blue-toned school crest in the center, covalt light filtering through it's surface and illuminating Gordie's face in a bounty of colors. Branching off from the main corridor like spider legs were smaller, darker hallways, lined with doors to classrooms from which classes going on could be heard.
"As you already know, Huntington Prep is a prestigious school. It's values are simple; greatness is achieved only by discipline and hard work." The tall, slender woman click-clacking in shiny kitten heels next to Gordie sighed nostalgically. She looked to be in her late fifties or so, her brittle, grey-shot hair pulled up into a bun and held there by a worn-out chopstick. Her dark blue cardigan was linty, her grey tights striped with runs and her black pleated shirt in desperate need of ironing. Gordie had look since forgotten her name, only that she was the Assistant Principal or something, but would rather struggle to concentrate on her words instead of the lipstick on her teeth than her title. Gordie looked up at her as if with interest. She sighed again. "Such a wonderful school. Our morales have been around since 1879. Simply the truth, don't you agree?"
Suddenly, she looked down at Gordie expectantly. Caught off guard, Gordie stammered for a few seconds, then blurted, "Oh, yes, of course!"
She nodded, satisfied, leading him further down the hallway.
"As you will soon find, the school is both a day school and boarding school. Some stay and some leave for the night. You all are housed separately, but taught together." She mounted the steps, reaching the first landing, Gordie in toe. Through the stained glass, he could make out the outline of a large field, boys running to and fro about it. "Our school is very sports oriented. We have some of the very best varsity teams around." She added proudly. "Do you play a sport?"
Gordie grimaced.
"No." He answered simply. She nodded, but she looked stern. "But my brother played football. He was amazing at it. Best on his team." Gordie put in hastily, sighing for effect. Once again, the woman nodded firmly.
"There was a kid…" Gordie continued for lack of conversation. "He said I would be good on the baseball team. Said I had a good arm."
"Was it someone from this school?" The woman turned to him, her eyes alight but her face uninterested.
"Yeah…" Gordie remembered the face of the boy with the radiant smile and a glow like sunshine. "Caspar D'Angelo, I think it was."
"Of course." The woman faced front again, reciting like a computer. "Caspar D'Angel. GPA of a solid 3.95. Golden student. Wonderful personality. Brilliant at sports; he was the captain of the baseball and football teams for three years straight. It figures that he would speak to you. That's something he would do. Was he friendly?"
"Oh, yeah." Gordie rubbed the back of his neck. "Seemed like a nice guy."
The woman turned to him.
"He is. I think he would be a good match for you." She nodded pensively. "I'd like for him to show you around. I think it would be good for the both of you."
"Oh, yeah, sure." Gordie shrugged. "I mean, I wouldn't want to intrude on his personal life-"
"Trust me." She assured. "He'd love to."
She sighed again, swaying her head from side to side in a sort of 'but what can we do?' way.
"But you've already been assigned someone." Her expression dropped. "Gavin Maccaffer." Her tone was bland and dry, over accentuating the first letters of this boy's name. Gordie almost snorted, but holding it back made it come out as more of a squeak. The woman glared at him. "But he'll have to do. He's the only one on the welcoming committee, anyway." She laughed a little, almost mockingly. "We're waiting for him now. Disorganized boy. Brilliant, but disorganized. No wonder he's late."
Unsure of how to respond, Gordie bit his lip and watched the boys outside the window, trying to pinpoint some of their faces, muscular hands gripping onto lacrosse sticks. He had to admit, the woman hadn't been bluffing; they did seem to have a very good team. Their shots were powerful, stealing the ball and throwing it around from stick to stick. As Gordie looked closer, he could pinpoint one of the faces behind the heavy gear. The sunshine-yellow curls peeking out from underneath the mask looked strikingly like one none other than Caspar. Gordie stiffened. He really was good; powerful, strong shots, muscles threading his hands and arms and toned legs, face concentrated with his beautifully chiseled jawline, sweat creating a small triangle of moisture right at the collar of his blue jersey just under the developing lump of his Adam's apple-
"Hey, sorry I'm-" A crash, and something tumbling across the marble. Gordie jumped in time with the assistant principal and whipped around, looking down the landing and at the figure crouching down to gather up the sheets of paper fluttering to the floor, open hard-shell typewriter case at his side. The woman sighed. Gordie watched, half with interest and half with judgement as the boy stuffed the sheets into a dark blue folder sitting open on his lap. He raised his head a little, but Gordie could only see the tips of dark brown hair tufting out from under the black PRESS cap perched comfortably on his head. He wore the same uniform as Gordie, but with a bit less swagger and coolness about him as Caspar had-no jacket partially unbuttoned, tie loose and hands in pockets. A black Polaroid camera hang open around his neck
"Sorry, Ma'am." He muttered as he clipped closed the case and began his way up the steps, looking down. Gordie strained to get a good look at his face, but couldn't see much. "I was working on something and lost track of-" It was then that he raised his head and met Gordie's eyes. His mouth stopped, and so did his feet, and for a moment he looked surprised, then interested, then blank, an indescribable expression playing over his face, as if time had quit ticking and the world had paused spinning. Now that his head was tilted upwards, the blue light of the stained glass beat out the shadow of the brim of his black felt hat, and Gordie could see his features clearly. He was handsome, but not in the way that one would think. Unconventional, not striking and golden-haired like Caspar was, but still equally attractive. His hair was cut short, dark brown like Gordie's and gelled so that it stayed away from his face and peaked just a little before hiding behind his cap. His eyes were dark green and large, shining as he watched Gordie. His nose was rounded and blunt, an unexpressed ski-slope in the center of his slightly-round face, which wasn't very shape-ful, but still defined at the jaw and chin. His skin was an almost-beige color of an even light tan, not a freckle marring his warm, clear complexion.
It was then that Gordie began to feel the awkwardness of the situation, with the boy staring and smiling with interest at him, and he studying the boy with interest and question. The woman cleared her throat. The boy blinked.
"Oh." He looked down, then up again at Gordie and smiled. His teeth were pristinely white, but not movie-star blinding. "Oh! Sorry, Ms. Graves. I got a little…" He cleared his throat as well, coming to stand unison with Gordie on the landing, with Gordie noticing his height in comparison to his, which was tall. The boy was a little beefier than him, but still with a sensitive touch to his air. "Caught up."
Ms. Graves raised an eyebrow up and down again in one quick movement, giving him a grimacing smile in a way to say 'yes, and don't do it again.'
"Mr. Maccaffer, this is Gordon Lachance. Gordon, this is Mr. Maccaffer." She introduced the boys with little enthusiasm.
The boy turned to Gordie.
"Gavin." He said, raising his hand to shake Gordie's, who did so, the boy's firm grip catching him by surprise. He gave him a meaningful look in the eyes.
"Gordie." Gordie muttered with an uncertain edge, avoiding his gaze. Gavin released.
"Well." Ms. Graves said finally. Both boys turned to her, attent and at the ready for instructions. "I'll see to it that you will show Gordon around the school, then take him to his third period class and no later. I will keep close tabs, Maccaffer. I want you and Mr. Lachance to be back in class by eleven-thirty-five sharp. Is that clear?"
Gavin nodded. Gordie bobbed his head.
"Absolutely, ma'am." Gordie's companion smiled. "No fooling around."
Ms. Graves's smile lowered to a glower.
"You'd better not."
And with that, she mounted the steps upwards and was off before either boys could say a word.
QUESTION FOR THE READER;
DO YOU LIKE GAVDON (Gordie+Gavin) or GORDAR (Gordie+Caspar) OR DO YOU JUST LIKE CHRISDIE BETTER ALL TOGETHER? YEAH THIS IS KINDA GUNNA END UP BEING ANOTHER GAY FANFIC BUT I PROMISE IT'S DIFFERENT OKAY?
YOUR VERY GAY SBM FANBOY,
-TOMMY
(ps wtf am I doing with my life :')
(pps haha I just came out online and I'm waiting for hate like...)