Date: Tue, 4 Jul 2000 20:58:42 -0700 From: David Cross Subject: shane-and-robin The usual disclaimers apply - ie. no reading this if you're not of age to read it, and no peeking at this if you can't stand gay people (which would bring to mind the question of what the hell you're doing reading this anyway). All questions etc can be directed to dcross1@home.com This story is set in a small town on the East coast of Vancouver Island, called Campbell River. I actually did live in this town for a couple of years, so it's not like I'm making it up completely... ---- September 9, 1992 7:00 AM Robin Peterson woke up, slightly disoriented. The dream had come to him again. In the dream, he would be walking along a backroads two-lane highway in the middle of nowhere. In the distance, a few hundred meters away, would be standing a human, guy or girl he wouldn't be able to tell just yet, but the person would always be identifiable as a guy once he got closer. The guy always seemed vaguely unreal, as though he weren't entirely of this world. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and looked as though he'd been taken out of a GQ magazine photo shoot. He would approach the unnamed guy, who would reach out his hand. Robin would hesitate, and then reach out and feel the warmth of another guy's hand in his own. Then he would feel the slightest of tugs on his hand, and he would come closer. And just as he reached up to stroke the blond god's hair... *POOF!* "Why is this happening to me?" Robin would always ask of himself. It seemed so natural, so... right to take the guy's hand in the dream. Yet he couldn't help but try and dismiss the entire dream as a product of his imagination working overtime; he would just have to try harder and find a girl. There was just that little shyness problem with girls he had to get over. Guys were no problem. He always seemed to relate well to them. A little too well. Robin got out of bed and headed to the bathroom for the morning ritual. He paused to look in the mirror before entering the shower. The image that stared back at him was the outward manifestation of himself. 17 years old, in grade 11, 5 foot 10, curly brown hair and dark brown eyes. Those eyes always seemed to reflect moodiness these days, and he knew it showed. Whenever he looked at a girl he thought he'd try to get to know, she would always broadcast uncertainty at the conflicting signals she would receive - a good-looking guy who nevertheless seemed to brood about the world. The girl would invariably make small talk, but be unwilling to get to know the guy named Robin who seemed to harbor the weight of the world on his shoulders. Having finished his self-inspection, Robin continued with the shower/shave/et cetera, and dressed in a white sweater, with a black shirt underneath, and brown slacks; he looked at the shoes he had and decided the hell with it and grabbed the 'good' pair - the shiny black ones. He grabbed his books and then went to the kitchen to grab a couple slices of toast. 7:30 AM Robin got into his 1985 Chevy Citation, and started the engine. His parents had owned the car before him, and when he'd turned 16 they had surprised him by handing him the keys to the car, and showing him the new insurance and registration papers which were in his name. Unbeknownst to him, his father had that very day signed the lease on a brand-new Honda Accord, and had decided that Robin should own the older car. Needless to say, he had been totally shocked that day, but appreciated what his parents had done for him. Robin put the car in reverse, and backed out onto Erickson road, which led to the airport in one direction and the Island Highway in the other, then put the car in drive and headed on his usual route east towards Galerno; hang left, and up Holm, swing right and then into the Southgate Secondary student parking lot. Robin got out of his car, locked the door and then headed up the concrete stairs that led past the section of the school largely reserved for grade 8 students, then through the quad area, the gym on his right, and through the double doors that led into the north-south leg of the "L" that made up the main section of the school. He headed to his locker, numbered 250, and dialled the combination on the lock. Having opened his locker, he put all the books in it except the ones he'd need for the first period class. Consult the timetable... "let's see, what have we got for classes today, hmm?" It turned out he'd have Biology first thing, then English, Math, Chemistry, and Peer Counselling. Fair enough. Biology was just a short distance away from his locker, and he assumed the seat nearest the door as soon as the buzzer went off to signal the start of the first class. Mr. Carlson, the teacher, began the class with the attendance call. Names were called, and students answered "here" or "present". One name, though, caught his attention. "Shane Wilson!" A blond-haired, blue-eyed guy in a white shirt and blue jeans answered "here". Robin did a double take as he realized with shock that Shane resembled the guy in his dream. Shit! His hands trembled as he willed himself not to stare at Shane, and to focus on the lesson for the day. Robin discovered that Shane was also in his English class, and had the misfortune to sit next to Shane; since the seating assignments were already set, he couldn't without a good excuse change seats. Thankfully, the period went by without incident, and Shane didn't seem to notice Robin peeking at him every now and then. The other classes flashed by; in Peer Counselling, he sat at his desk and doodled on a piece of paper while his thoughts wandered to the subject of Shane Wilson. Who was he? Robin had, of course, seen him around before, but never until that day connected him with the unidentified male in the dream. As unusual as it seemed, the two guys had never had any classes together until that year. Robin wondered why he felt this way about a guy who he had only ever seen in a dream before that day, and why he couldn't feel similar feelings about girls. It bothered him. Robin had managed to pay attention enough during the lecture in the class to realize it was on the subject of student-counsellor confidentiality. When the teacher, Mr. Puritch, stopped and asked if there were any questions, Robin raised his hand. Mr. Puritch acknowledged him, and he plowed forward. "Mr. Puritch, I've got a.. well, an unusual question. Say you like someone a lot, or you know someone really well. Does it cause problems for you if you're a peer counsellor, because you might see this person in a counsellor-type situation?" The teacher responded, "Good question. Actually, the guidelines I'll give you people are fairly close to those that are set for legal situations involving judges. Basically if a judge has a conflict of interest in a trial, he has to voluntarily remove himself and have another judge sit in his place. So the rule will be the same for peer counsellors. If a peer counsellor has a conflict of interest such as a personal relationship, he or she should get another peer counsellor to handle the situation." Robin breathed an internal sigh of relief. He could continue to let his thoughts wander to the subject of the mystery named Shane Wilson. All too soon, class ended and Robin had to go back to his locker and get his homework for the night. Plod, plod, plod. Back to the car, sink into the seat with a sigh, and... Huh?! Damn, the car wouldn't start! Must have left the lights on. Great. Stuck with a dead battery and nobody around to boost the car. Robin got out of his car, and looked up. It couldn't be! Fate, it seemed, smiled on him; Shane was making his way to his own car, a big old Ford LTD Crown Victoria. He waved over at Shane, who seemed momentarily startled. Shane walked over and said, "Hey, what's up?" Robin glared at his car and said, "Would you believe? My battery went dead! I think I forgot to turn the lights off this morning." "That sucks. Here, let me drive my car over and we'll boost yours." Shane rushed back to his Ford, started the engine, and parked his car with the engine facing Robin's car, left the engine running and popped the hood. He got out, and yelled over the noise of the engine, "Do you have jumper cables, Robin?" Robin had been staring at Shane, and getting nervous about the situation that threw him and Shane together in close quarters. He came to reality with a start as he realized Shane had asked him something about jumper cables. He replied "No, I don't think so!" Robin thought to himself, "Now I look like a doofus for not even knowing if I have jumper cables or not." Come to think of it further, he'd never actually checked if his parents had left any in the back of the car. Shane popped the trunk of his car and fished out his jumper cables. As he walked back to where Robin was standing, he said, "Ok, pop the hood. Do you know how these go on?" Robin said, "I think so." Gee, brilliant reply. Way to look like a dumbass. "Ok, but so you DO know, it's negative to negative, positive to positive. And don't cross them over unless you want to ruin something in the car." Robin wasn't sure if Shane was being patronizing or if he honestly was concerned about Robin's well-being. He realized his hands were shaking slightly, and replied, "Gotcha. Um, maybe you could help me get these cables onto my battery terminals?" Shane clamped one positive alligator clip to the rubber of the cord going to the negative clip; this would prevent the two at that end from accidentally coming into contact and short-circuiting the battery. He reached for the two cables at the other end of the rubber wires, and handed the red, positive, clip to Robin and said, "Here, put this on that positive terminal there." To Robin's annoyance, he couldn't squeeze the handles so the alligator clip would be wide enough to get it down onto the terminal. Damn, why did his hands have to betray him?! He tried to will himself to calm down so he wouldn't look like a fool. Shane, apparently without thinking, reached out and grasped the handles, and his hand was partially over Robin's. The shock of Shane's touch nearly prompted Robin to gasp. Shane's hand _felt_ just as warm as the guy in the dream; Robin had to resist the temptation to enclose Shane's hand in his own. Shane helped get the clip on, and put the negative clip on by himself. He then clamped the appropriate clips onto his battery's terminals. Robin had noticed something odd: when Shane had put his hand partially over his own to get the positive clip on, his mouth had twitched just the slightest, and he blinked. It was almost too fleeting and Robin thought it might have been his imagination. Shane had to be straight as an arrow. Robin's car was up and running 15 seconds later, and Shane quickly took the jumper cable clips off each car's battery and stowed the mass of rubber and metal back in his trunk. He walked to the front of his car and slammed the hood down, then looked over at Robin and said, "So, that wasn't too hard, eh?" Robin, lost in thought and admiring this blond god who seemed more and more to have been plucked from his dream and placed in this world, replied hastily and without really thinking. "Yeah, it was cool. Hey, I gotta get going if I'm gonna get supper tonight. Catch you tomorrow, OK?" "Yeah, that's all right. Seeya!" Robin got in his car and zoomed off. Damn, that was close! On his way home, he thought about the events of the day and wondered if he hadn't been fooling himself all these years. Was he really... gay? ---- That ends part 2... Let me know if I totally sucked. :)