Cultured Spirit

A/N: It's a first slash original for me! Let's see how it works out...

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Ian towel dried his hair as he stepped outside of the boy’s locker room, the echoes of students still in the pool cut short as the door swung closed. He spared a glance at the glass wall that divided the spectator view from the pool and his gaze was, at once, fixated on Adeline Dautry. She was hovering near the diving board, dark hair spilling in rivets onto her lightly tanned shoulders as she shrunk away from the water. She wasn’t on the swim team, but worked on the school newspaper. Her camera was positioned at Riley Kirk as he dove straight into the water and he could almost hear her screams of laughter as droplets splashed onto the lens.

“Dude, you’ve gotta ask her out already.”

Ian rolled his eyes, tossing his towel onto a chair and sinking his barefoot into a sneaker. Ryan smirked, leaning his skateboard against the same chair and peered through the glass as Kirk hoisted himself onto the pool’s ledge and walked over to Adeline. He leaned closely to her as though trying to get a good look at the recent picture, but both boys knew better.

“Damn right I do,” Ian muttered, eying Riley with distaste. He looped his shoelaces around each other, before slamming both feet onto the floor. “And I would if her old man didn’t hate my guts.”

Mr. Dautry was, in short, the faculty member on the entire high school’s staff that Ian did not get along with. Adeline and her dweeb of a brother – how were they related again? – just had to be born under Ian’s principle’s lineage. It was one of those unfair things in life.

Ryan snorted at Ian’s miniature self-pitying session. His hands, shoved inside their fingerless gloves as usual, waved in front of his friend’s face in a teasing gesture. “Earth to Ian! Miss. Dautry has left the premises. Can we go grab something to eat now or do you have more freakish stalking tendencies I don’t know about?”

With a dry laugh, Ian stuffed his towel in his duffel bag and wrapped it over his shoulder. “Alright, alright. Let me just get this slip to Mrs. Cowen.”

Ryan shrugged, spinning the loose wheel of his skateboard as he followed his friend down the hall and to the science department. “Another swimming field trip?” The shaggy blond teased, watching the wheel wobble dangerously.

“God, I wish. I’ve got to spend all day at some play for English tomorrow. It’s not even Shakespeare, man.” Shakespeare Ian could deal with because when it came to Shakespeare, Ian could make up a load of bull.

Ryan snickered quietly to himself while snapping the elastic on his wrist. “You can’t fool me, Hadley. I know full well Addy’s in that class. I bet you’re creaming your pants just thinking about sitting next to her on the bus.”

Unable to help it, Ian let out a loud laugh and cuffed Ryan with his bag.

As it so happened, Mrs. Cowen, his homeroom teacher, could not accept late forms. She sent Ian an apologetic glance in the middle of lecturing him about getting his slips in on time.

“They’ve already booked our seats at the Hall, Ian.” She sighed, erasing half the scrawled words on the white-board and posting the assigned homework instead.

“Aw, Mrs. Cowen.” He tried, propping himself up onto his and Ryan’s regular lab table. “You know I’ve been so busy with the swim team - ” Most of his teachers, Mrs. Cowen included, usually budged when he brought up how hard he was training for the season. He was one of the prize players after all.

Cowen looked even more put out as she nodded in understanding. “I know you have. But I really can’t get an extra seat, and even if I could it’d be nowhere near your class – that’s against school regulations.”

Ian sulked. He wouldn’t have wanted to go under those circumstances anyway.

“I have an idea though.” The Biology teacher grinned as she set down her agenda and replaced it with what looked like a sign up sheet. “Since you said you’re finding drama productions as your newest calling, you can meet here at lunch. Daniel won’t be going either and he’s putting together this year’s school play. I’m sure I can put in a good word for you…” She looked ecstatic that she could somehow make up for Ian missing the trip.

About fifteen minutes later, seated in the cafeteria, Ryan was hiccupping with laughter. “Imagine the production is Peter Pan this year. God, you’d look so dorky in tights.”

Ian’s eyes, in all their hazel glory, crinkled as he took a sip of his coke. “I knew I was laying it on too thick when I told her I was an aspiring young drama major.”

Ryan spluttered, a half-eaten fry dangling from the side of his mouth as he shook with laughter. “No, that wasn’t the worst of it. Remember when you went on for at least five minutes about how you wanted to be more cultured?”

Throwing his spoon, still caked with butterscotch pudding, at his companion, Ian glowered. “Now I’m stuck meeting Dautry – the wrong one at that – after school when I should be discussing the climax of some shitty play with the most beautiful girl in school.”

“But look on the bright side,” Ryan grinned, waving Ian’s spoon back at him. “Now you get to be part of a shitty play.”

And a shitty play it turned out to be.

“You’re writing a play about a writer.” Ian said dumbstruck, reading over the script.

Daniel Dautry was more ordinary than his sister, even though they were technically twins. Even his name didn’t hold the same exotic ring to it as Adeline’s did. Their only similarity was their hair – the same shade of honey brown. His eyes, a lucid shade like caramel contrasted deeply with Adeline’s simmering blue irises, as did his skin which was maddeningly pale.

He was also less playful and more reserved. The kind of boy you expected to find home alone on a Friday night playing interactive RPG games with his cyber buddies.

Blankly, Daniel stared at Ian. “Yes,” he said slowly in a way that made Ian fume – like he was surprised the jock understood even that much.

“That’s a bit boring, don’t you think?” Ian said patiently, his feet propped up on the desk in front of him as Daniel sat across the room. They were practically shouting at each other.

“Did you find last year’s production boring?” The boy asked brazenly, which surprised Ian. He figured the lesser Dautry was shy rather than bold.

“Er…”

“Oh.” Daniel looked thoughtful and his bold mood dampened. “You didn’t go.”

Feeling guilty for unfathomable reasons, Ian made another uncertain noise. “Well, it’s not that I didn’t want to go. I did – really – I was just so busy with the swim team.”

His team excuse failed for the second time that day … which was actually a record.

“No, no. I understand. The only people who watch my plays are Adeline and dad.” Ian cringed at the word “Dad”. “Out of obligation.” He added.

“Well, half of the play has this Allen guy sitting in front of a type writer.” Ian flipped the page then ran a defeated hand through his unruly black hair. “Okay, scratch that. Three-quarters of this thing has got him vegetating in front of his typewriter.”

“Mrs. Cowen said you were an artistic spirit waiting to be captured-” Dautry’s skeptic voice imitating what Ian knew was a statement originally said with Cowen’s usual enthusiasm resulted in stifled laughter. “Not a critic.”

“Can’t I be both?” Ian asked with an innocent gaze that left Daniel rolling his eyes.

“You’ve got no interest in this thing.” He said, flickering his pages absentmindedly. “What are you even doing here? I should be setting up props...” He trailed off, a slender finger tugging at the fringe of his hair.
“Okay, runt,” Ian began, ignoring Daniel’s protests. “I’ll leave you be if you tell Cowen I finished my duties as your helper.”

All too ready to get rid of Ian, Daniel nodded. “Of course.”

Then, smiling at the other in relief, Ian waved. “See you at the play, then.”

Daniel nodded once again, managing to even smile briefly. The upturn of his mouth looked strained and Ian let out a snort. Just before closing the door behind him, Ian peered back inside the room. “Your sister will be there, won’t she?”

Not looking at all surprised at the sudden remark, Daniel shrugged. “Should be.”

Ian grinned. “Cool.”

When he got home, Ian was just short of exhausted. Practice in the morning followed by actual non-school related play reading after school left the teenager with only sloth-like behavior. The phone rang a couple of times, the annoying, shrill tone of it echoing in Ian’s room before his mother relented and picked it up downstairs.

Of course, she sounded impatient as she yelled up the staircase: “Ian, it’s for you!”

Groaning into his pillow, reminding himself it was a homework free night and the start of the weekend, Ian forced himself to pick up the receiver. Loud music echoed through Ryan’s voice as he asked about Ian’s day as Peter Pan.

“Daniel’s such a weasel. And a perfectionist.”

Ryan’s grin was evident over the phone. “Mm-hmm. Odd combination that. Kind of like dear old daddy?”

Ian made a noncommittal noise before rolling onto his back and staring at the collage of posters and glow in the dark stickers on his ceiling. “Pretty much. He’s so uptight though, for a senior.”

“I bet if you got him to like you, his dad wouldn’t be far behind.” Ryan’s voice was drowning beneath the loud beat of music and he heard the blond shouting on the other end.

“Ryan, where the hell are you?” Ian asked, imagining his friend barely sober at one of his brother’s intense parties.

Ryan laughed heartily into the receiver. “Why? Want to come over?”

Ian shrugged. “I’ll be there.” He said, already reaching for his keys. He couldn’t quite get Ryan’s statement out of his head as he swept past his mom making up some intangible excuse. His dad wouldn’t be too far behind? Which, inevitably, meant Adeline wouldn’t either.

He had a feeling his drunken friend was onto something...