Westpoint Tales - Christian & Roman's Tale, 4

Monday morning, back at school for one more week, Roman and company sauntered into the locker room. He was surrounded by his sycophants, as always, but they were not what he was looking for. He cast his eyes around, looking for Christian, he found him and what he saw was not good, not good at all. He hurried down through the long room to where Christian was bailed up in a corner by two of the biggest goons in the school.

These two were not amongst those at the square on Saturday night, but they were well-known bullies as well. Bullying was not allowed at Westpoint High. The staff were really vigilant and fast to squash any incidents, but today there were no staff around. Was Kieran Archer keeping a look-out in the doorway? Yeah, probably.

They didn’t see him coming. Christian had his head down and the other two had their backs to him as he approached quietly.

“So, Squires,” the bigger one hissed. “We hear that you got some of what was coming to you, Saturday night at the Square. You needn’t think it’s finished yet. It’ll be finished when I say it is.”

Christian was only half the size of either of them, but he wasn’t cowed at all. He lifted his head and glared defiantly back at the bullies.

‘Whoah,’ Roman thought. ‘There’s more to this kid than meets the eye.’

“What’s it to you, Bentham? What have I ever done to you?”

“To me? Nothing, and you’re not going to either. We’re just sick of all you faggots around here – walking around like you’ve got the right to breathe our air.”

“Your air, Mr. Bentham?” Roman interrupted. “Who said it’s your air?”

“What the? Oh, it’s you. Going to defend your girlfriend again, are you, Dallas?”

“Girlfriend? I haven’t got a girlfriend, but this boy is my friend. Fuck with him and you’re fucking with me. Is that what you want, Pussy?”

“Pussy? I ain’t no fucking Pussy!”

“No? Well you’re no friend either. Fuck off, Bentham. Hassle my friend again and I’ll do you.”

“You don’t tell me to fuck off, Dallas.”

“I just did. Don’t forget that it’s our farm that you live on. Your father works for my father. Want me to tell him to fuck off too?”

“My father’s got nothing to do with this. You leave him out of it.”

“And you’re going to make me? How? If you hassle my friend again, if you even look the wrong way at him, first I’ll whip your arse and then you’ll be moving house and your father will be looking for a new job.”

They were thick, but they weren’t stupid. They left without another word. Kieran Archer joined them as they walked away.

“Archer!” Roman was clearly heard in the quiet room.

“What?”

“That goes for you too. Stay away from my friends.”

He turned and looked at Christian who was standing with his mouth hanging open.

“Close your mouth, Christian, before you catch a fly,” Roman grinned.

“Friends?” Christian asked wonderingly.

“Yes, friends. You are my friend aren’t you?”

“Yeah!” A smile spread across his face. (And what a great smile this boy had!) “Friends. Thanks, Roman, again. Thanks, but you can’t keep fighting my battles for me.”

“Says who? I said anytime, and that’s what I meant. Anytime. See you later, Friend.”

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks. Later, Friend.” (Another great smile).

Roman walked away, feeling on top of the world. That went well. That went really well. Patrick Bentham’s acting was worth every cent that he’d paid him. The goon should be on a stage or something. He made a mental tick against stage one of his Plan.

However, Robbie Burns knew what he was talking about when he wrote, “the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglae,” (often go astray).

Nobody liked bullies around there and all day Patrick Bentham and his mates were a laughing stock throughout the school. Christian knew nothing about that. All he knew was that people were actually being nice to him.

It was good, sort-of. He just wasn’t used to it; even his own sister, Sarah, was nice to him for once. Was this a taste of what it was like to be Roman’s friend? It was good – but.

By the time school was over for the day, Kieran Archer had had enough. He hated being laughed at and the money that they were paid was not enough. Not by a long shot. He caught up to Christian Squires, on the way home, and stopped him.

“Squires, wait up!”

“What? You stay away from me, Archer. I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve got something to say to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The money we got was not enough.”

“Money? What money?”

“That little scene in the locker room this morning; Dallas paid us to give you a hard time. It was not enough.”

“He paid you? What would he do that for?”

“So that he could be the big hero and rescue you of course.”

“But . . .But, why?”

“Don’t know, he didn’t say.”

“I don’t believe you. Roman doesn’t need to pay people to make him look like a hero.”

“I’m telling you, he did. Ask Bentham. Ask Henderson. We all got paid. I’d watch my arse if I was you; I think Dallas is out to get you. Then again, if I was you, I probably wouldn’t, would I?”

“Fuck off, Archer.”

“Yeah, well. Just thought you should know. ‘Bye, gayboy.”

Christian went home and puzzled over that all night. He didn’t know what to think. Was that true? Roman paid those jerks so that he could rescue him? Why? Was he ‘out to get him’? Surely not. He wouldn’t have to pay for what he could just have anyway. Or, didn’t he know that?

Roman Dallas wanted Christian Squires? Yeah, right! Not in this world.

But, why would Archer lie about it? Maybe this was just some weird way of getting revenge on Roman? Could it be? It just made them look even stupider, didn’t it?

He didn’t know what to think, but he thought about nothing else all night.

Life went on at school next day. Everything was as normal, no-one spoke to him but no-one hassled him either, so that was good. He saw Roman a few times, but he didn’t seem to take any notice of him either. He was obviously forgotten, again.

The annual round of Christmas parties had begun. It was nothing to do with him, but his parents were never home. They weren’t about to miss out on free drinks and they were at parties all over the town.

They weren’t going to be at the big one though. Mr. and Mrs. Squires were never invited to the annual party at the Dallas’ home. This year, to everyone’s surprise, Christian was invited. Christian wasn’t surprised, he was dumbfounded!

Every year, for two days, the Dallas family opened their home and threw a massive party; no expense was spared as they set out to dazzle the peasants. Everybody who was anyone was there and it was always referred to, by those who weren’t, as ‘the Party in the Palace’.

Usually, Roman was allowed to invite four friends, this year he was asking only one – Christian Squires. Roman had a Plan.