[Darrow: Settling In - Dated to 2/6/16]

[boywhoflew]

Carson's time in Darrow so far had been a mess of frustration and confusion. After settling in to his apartment, he had raided the closest convenience store for necessities and shut and locked his door. He hadn't left since then.

He'd tried calling home. He rang his mom's cell four times and the house phone six. He had even tried calling Malerie, his Grandma's home, and in a fit of desperation the Clover community library. Every dial had ended fruitlessly, leaving him nothing but so frustrated and angry that he had nearly thrown his phone at the wall but settled for stuffing it between the cushions of the couch and going to bed for an anger nap. He hadn't actually expected it to work, but he had hoped.

What were you even going to say? He'd thought spitefully. 'Hi, Mom. I got struck by lightning and now I'm stuck in a new city that might be in an alternate dimension. Don't worry about setting me a plate for dinner! I'll see you never.' He couldn't imagine that would have gone particularly well.

By the time the present had rolled around, he had managed to shake off some of his funk. He had used the laptop in his apartment to look up the local school district, had called the high school to inquire about getting his GED only to find out his transcripts had been successfully transferred and he was ready to be enrolled (what? how?) and now he was set to finish out his senior year at a whole new school. As relieved as he was that he could finish what he'd started, he still found himself not particularly wanting to leave the apartment. The walls and quiet made it feel safe and normal, and walking the streets had so far just resulted in awkward confrontations. Only two days until Monday. I can just tough it out and then go start school.

He laid back on the couch and frowned at the ceiling. In two days, he had more or less memorized the pattern of the tiles.

Comments

[puckandpie]

Carson drops easily into one of the seats as I wander to the front of the room, inspecting the little podium just off to the side. There's a little remote sitting atop it and, after figuring out it's to operate a projector, I glance up to see one hanging just from the ceiling. Huh.

Looking back to Carson again, I take in how comfortable he looks there. Eager, even. And I feel a little bad he still has to wait so long to actually be here when this is clearly something he's wanted for a long time. Not here at Barton, of course, but just... at school. At college. Not even Ransom and his 4.0 GPA has ever struck me as this excited to learn.

"If I was really that curious, I'd have come here on my own months ago," I point out, stepping up closer behind the podium and carefully resting my hands just on the edge. "So how does it feel? Like someplace you can see yourself spending most of your time soon? I know it's no Northwestern or Samwell, but... do you think it'll be good enough?"

[boywhoflew]

He drummed his fingers on the table-top thoughtfully, frowning off to the side as he mulled the question over. "It kind of has to be, doesn't it?" Carson asked, glancing back at Eric with a contemplative expression. It was a little strange sitting in an otherwise empty classroom, just one boy at a desk and the other standing up at a podium, but the silence and stillness lent the room a sense of promise.

He stretched his legs out. "It's hard to say, to be honest." He shrugged and continued the hard, steady drumming of his fingers across the table. "I mean, with Northwestern I had been doing my research for years. Even if I had never been there I knew what the dorms, cafeteria, library and classrooms all looked like. It was so easy to imagine myself there." He looked around the barren classroom, the space between his brows puckering as he frowned and took it all in. "But if this is the only option, then it could be a whole lot worse?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his cupped hands and giving the other boy a studious look.

"What about you?" He asked. "You were in college back home. You have actual memories. I know you're on the fence, but how does it compare?" It was one thing to draw from his own research, or his own dreams. But Eric had a genuine point of reference to draw from, and despite himself he was curious.

[puckandpie]

There isn't a single bit of me that doubts Carson. It's honestly so easy to picture him hunched over websites and magazines, memorizing and imagining himself in every picture. I can't say I'd gone quite that far when I'd decided on Samwell, but I'd definitely been excited. Of course, that was more due to the LTBTQ faction of things and the scholarship than the actual academics. I'd wondered how I might fit in, if I'd like my classes, if the buildings were really as beautiful as they seemed.

And they were. Some of them at least. Not the dorms, really, but Norris is huge and beautiful and, of course, Faber. I wish I'd really taken the time to appreciate such a beautiful rink while I was there. I never realized how badly I took it for granted.

"Well, it's... I guess it's hard to say without being enrolled," I answer, stepping close enough to the podium to rest my arms on it, leaning carefully. "Samwell scared the heck out of me when I first started. I was away from home and living on my own and I've never been the greatest student ever. It was completely different from anything I'd ever known. Being on the team helped a lot because I had sort of a built-in group of friends without even really tryin' and the Haus gave me a place to go when I needed to get out of the dorm. That'll be different here, obviously -- I'll have my own apartment and all that. No Haus. But, I think. I don't know. I liked the Haus. I liked my friends. At this point, I'm not sure I even know how to really meet people my own age without just sorta stumbling into it blindly."

Looking over at Carson again, I take a breath. Hesitating.

I may not be out to absolutely everyone I've ever met here, but I don't like to think I'm still hiding. Alone in an empty classroom is probably not the best place to say anything, but even if Carson is taller than me, I'd bet I'm stronger and, apart from that, he might be sorta judgmental and grouchy, but he doesn't strike me as the bullying type.

"Half the reason I chose Samwell was because they're known as the number one most LGBTQ-friendly campus in the country," I tell him, glancing away with a shrug. "I know those lists don't really matter here and I have no idea where Barton would stand if they do, but I have a feeling it wouldn't be so high. Just... makes me nervous, I guess. Even if it shouldn't."

[boywhoflew]

He had ceased his restless drumming when Eric took his prompt and began to speak. It was peculiar to try to imagine what the other boy was taking about, to try and pick at the pieces and make them into a picture. From the other boy's reluctance he had gathered that Samwell had been important to him, maybe almost as important as the idea of Northwestern had been to Carson, if not for very different reasons.

He had never taken the time to consider going off to Northwestern to make friends. To make a new home. It had always been a necessary stepping stone towards more. To his big, bright future. It was the key to his success and passion, but aside from the aspect of worthy peers and capable instructors, he had never fully grasped the concept of the social aspect of going off to college. The furthest he had ever gotten was the general idea of a roommate, which he was more resigned to than anticipating.

He chewed his cheek and listened attentively. To him, it seemed as though Eric was clinging to the past as an excuse to not move forward, but he kept that observation to himself for the time being.

When the letters LGBTQ were dropped his brows rose involuntarily, but he kept his mouth firmly shut. He generally didn't pay much heed to other people's body language, but he couldn't miss the way Eric's was almost forcefully casual. His only experience with gay guys were Scott and Nicholas, who on most days he had rather gleefully disdained. But that had everything to do with them being assholes and nothing to do with them being gay.

But Eric was about as far from an asshole as he had ever met. He squirmed in his seat and tried to ignore the stab of guilt he felt as he remembered his threat to out the two student council members.

"You're right," he said after the silence had stretched too long. "It shouldn't make you nervous. I mean," he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Yeah, some people are douchebags. You'll run into that anywhere, regardless of how conservative or liberal it allegedly is." He leaned his hand on his chin and frowned at the whiteboard. "But letting yourself back away because of a what if? That's stupid. Would you avoid applying for a job because the manager could be a homophobe? Or eating out because the waiter could be prejudiced? Maybe those are things you worry about or maybe not, but you just... shouldn't. If the school isn't as gay friendly as it should be, make it. No one ever wins anything by walking away." He shrugged. "I'm not saying you need to start a civil rights campaign. I'm just saying that being held back by something you can't predict or control shouldn't be a deciding factor."

[puckandpie]

"I'm not sayin' it's holding me back," I argue, though I suppose that's exactly what it must sound like. I am nervous and I'd be lying both to Carson and myself if I claimed the uncertainty of just how friendly Barton's campus my or may not be is a factor in me dragging my feet as much as I have.

But I'm also pretty sure Carson is straight and that he doesn't really have any idea how it feels. I've lived in Georgia nearly my whole life, I've been pushed around just for being small, weirdly revered and judged both at once being the high school football coach's kid, stuffed into closets and shoved into lockers just because people thought I might be gay. I've had nightmares wondering what they'd have done if they'd known it for sure.

Carson isn't entirely wrong though. There are no sure things in life. For instance, you can't really prepare yourself for being magically transported to an entirely different dimension without any way to get back home. What makes me think I could prepare myself for anything else after that?

"It makes me nervous, yeah, but I was nervous about Samwell at the start, too. I actually know more people here now than I did when I started taking classes there, but there's still... it's still a lot, no. Can you really tell me you're not nervous at all? Not even a little bit?"

[boywhoflew]

Carson chewed his cheek as he watched the other boy with studious attentiveness. Since he had raised the idea of applying to Barton he had heard what felt like a half dozen excuses as to why not, but had yet to hear a single good reason of why he should. As someone who was a self-admitted cynic, it was strange to find himself begrudging the other boy for his lack of positive thinking.

"Why should I be?" He retorted, and for all the belligerence he still managed it as a legitimate question. With a contemplative frown he leaned forward over the desk. "How could anything here be any worse than what's already happened? I waded through years of small town bullshit with the idea that going to university would be the finish line. Between high school, Clover, humiliation, success and failure, to being struck by lightning and being kidnapped into another dimension... how is college something to be afraid of? If anything, it should be a reward for all the bullcrap I've put up with." He pushed himself up from the desk and walked over to the podium Eric stood behind, and raised his hands to clasp the sides of the wood between them.

"I'm serious." He said, quirking his brow and watching the boy carefully. "After everything that led up to this point, shouldn't we just get to enjoy something normal? To go to classes, complain about assignments, eat over priced cafeteria food and come out the other end having earned something that will literally do nothing but be beneficial for the rest of our lives?" He cocked his head to the side. "And you said it yourself. You went off to Samwell on your own. Here you have friends and a support system. If anything, it sounds like you're more prepared for it now than you were there."

[puckandpie]

My hands slide from the podium as Carson starts speaking and I stuff them in the pockets of my coat, frowning a little. Everything he says makes sense, though. For him, at least. Some of it I can identify with even if I think my relationship with Madison is a little bit better than his is with Clover. I do get it, though; I get how it feels to be suffocated by the place you live in.

But I have no idea what it feels like to be struck by lightning and that definitely catches my attention.

Before I can even open my mouth to ask, Carson's directly in front of me, gripping the podium between us, his voice ratcheting up a few notches as he grows more heated. It reminds me a whole lot of Coach Hall, actually, trying to get us all riled up before a big game. And... well, despite myself, it's working. Maybe I don't even know what normal is anymore if the idea of going back to school seems so scary. I've gotten so used to just going to work every day, baking until my feet ache, checking in on Thomas and Lee and Jack, and skating when I can. Somewhere along the line, I forgot how it feels to be a normal kid my age, a freshman in college, unsure and irresponsible and full of poor decisions.

"Maybe you're right," I concede after a long moment, and have to take another breath. "I guess I've... I've gotten comfortable here. School shouldn't seem so scary, I know that. I really wish I could see it like you do, though. Maybe it'd help if I had half as much drive as you seem, too." I try for a smile then, small as it might be. "I don't think I'm really cut out for world domination."

[boywhoflew]

Carson almost smiled back, but he stamped it down except for the small twitch at the corner of his lips. "Not every one is," he said, equal parts wry and amused. With a sigh he cast a long look around the room once more. For an empty room, it just struck him as something that promised something. It was entirely possible that he was reading far too much into everything and blowing it all out of proportion. After all, he had accomplished far more that day than he'd had any intention of doing. He had gone from wallowing in his apartment in his own frustration and grief to actually walking through town and standing in the one promising establishment in the entire damn city, and had somehow roped the most patient kid he could possibly hope to meet into going with him.

He honestly shouldn't give a damn if Eric enrolled or not. It wasn't any of his business, and he didn't need the other boy to go with him. He didn't need anyone and ninety percent of the time he preferred the solitude.

But he had to concede that what would have most likely been a cut and dry trip was considerably more fun with the uncertain boy in tow.

"Come on," he finally said. Pushing away from the podium he clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. "We should probably get out of here before campus security finds us and thinks we were up to something nefarious or inappropriate. I don't want to get banned from the campus before I can even apply." Stuffing his hands into his pockets he tried for a reassuring expression. "We'll check out financial aid and student services. If it's something that genuinely bothers you, we can ask about the policies regarding protection and discrimination."

[puckandpie]

Carson's smile is small, but strangely warm. Strange just because I'm not sure I've seen one quite like it on his face until now. It's a good look on him.

He pulls away from the podium and rubs his hands together and I realize there's nothing about his expression or mannerisms that are at all cruel or aggressive. He's not even chirping me. I didn't realize just how nervous I was until I'm suddenly not any more and I let out a breath, my smile much more genuine.

"Okay," I agree, fighting back a strange impulse to laugh before heading toward the door, peeking through the little window for a second before stepping back out into the hall, Carson close behind. "I still can't believe you were able to talk me into this, but I have the feeling you could talk a fish into buying a car. And don't think I've forgotten about groceries and clothes, mister. We better make this quick; I still have work to get to and I'm not letting you out of our deal."

I'm grinning a little as I say it, though. As scary an idea as it still is, I gotta admit, for the first time since I showed up here, I feel like maybe I could actually have a life in this place.

Maybe.