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maderrThe biggest problem with this fic is that I could easily have made it longer and more complicated. The problem being that I didn't want to do that. But I highly doubt this is the last you'll see of my version of these two, because there are lots of things I didn't fit into this first story that I still want to write.
So. I'll repost the whole story, and in 2-3 chunks, so my apologies for the spamming. It's 26 pages long, which LJ tends to dislike.
Once more for the record: Jason and Calvin (and related chars) are the property of Bill Amend and Bill Watterson, respectively. I intend no harm in my use of these character, I desire only to play and have fun.
"Assholes," Jason muttered as he watched three frat boys wreck the snow sculptures in front of the art building. Well, he assumed they were frat boys. One wore a hoody with the Theta Chi letters on it, and to the best of his knowledge fraternity types didn't generally hang around with non-fraternity types.
The elaborate snowmen they were currently destroying had started to appear right after the first real snow of the season - two whole feet! - and he'd been utterly captivated by them. His own snowmen had never been half so cool growing up. Because these weren't just snowmen, they were masterpieces. It sucked major that he'd never been able to catch the artist at work.
And now, coming back late from his student-teaching job in the computer lab, he was witness to the destruction of the sculptures by Stupid Drunken Frat Boys. It wasn't right - whoever had been making them obviously cared a lot. You didn't do stuff like that with snow just for kicks.
"That'll teach him," one of the guys said to his brothers, who laughed and drunkenly agreed with him. He shoved the head off a lovingly made female, and then set to work destroying her body. Various props were knocked off and lost in the snow.
Jason bit his lip, "Hey!"
Three heads swiveled to look at him, "What do you want, geek?"
Jason fought not to roll his eyes. Honestly, did they think that was an insult? Well, they were Greek boys. "What do you think you're doing?"
"None of your damn business. Fucking get lost."
Whatever Jason might have said next, never got said. From inside the art building a figure came dashing out, a blur of black as he launched himself at the nearest vandal. "Get away, get away!" But the slender man was no match for the heavier builds and greater strength - not to mention numbers - of the three.
"Fuck this," Jason muttered. "Should've done it to begin with." Reaching into his dark green parka, he whipped out his cell phone and flipped it open, cycling through the saved numbers for campus security. A couple of minutes later he flipped it closed, "Hey, meat-for-brains!" Three heads turned to look at him. "You've got two minutes before security arrives to bust your asses."
"What the fuck ever--" but even as the apparent leader spoke, the headlights of a familiar SUV appeared on the road. The three jerks scrambled, leaving their victim cursing in the snow.
Shoving his phone back in his pocket, Jason dashed toward the unfortunate young man. "Hey, man. Are you okay?"
Instead of answering, the other man fumbled in the snow to regain his footing. Jason gripped his arm and helped him up. On his head, the guy's black watch cap had been knocked askew. He righted it, then began looking around in the snow.
Jason frowned, confused, until he spotted the black scarf and mittens lying amidst the white. He retrieved them and handed them over, just as two men in campus security jackets approached them. "Who called?"
"That'd be me," Jason replied.
"What's going on?"
The unknown man in black remained stubbornly mute, as Jason set about explaining what had happened.
One of the security officers looked at the young man, "These were your snowmen?"
"…Yeah," the young man spoke at last. "Final project."
"Any idea why they might've done this?"
"I pissed them off in class earlier today."
Neither officer seemed terribly surprised, "You know who they were then? I think we have a pretty good idea anyway. The three from Theta Chi, right? At least this time you got a witness."
The young man nodded, and added the professor and class.
"All right. We'll look into." The officer winked, "Figures it'd be you again, Calvin. Now both of you get back to your rooms, it's too cold and too late to be wandering around outside. And be careful."
"Yes, sir." Jason and Calvin responded.
Calvin immediately turned back toward the art building, "I left my books and stuff inside," he explained. "Let me get them and I'll head back."
"I'll go with you," Jason said.
The officers hesitated, then nodded and made their way back to their car. "Make it quick, don't linger."
Inside, the two young men stamped their boots and shook off what snow had accumulated on their jackets. Then Calvin surprised Jason by unzipping his black ski jacket and hanging it up along with his mittens, scarf and watch cap.
Jason's mind was torn between "What is he doing?" and "Whoa, damn"
He settled on the 'Whoa, damn.'
Calvin was hot. His hair wasn't the definite yellow that Jason's was, but a dirty wheat blonde - and messy as all get out. Most likely the brief fight in the snow and the watch cap had disheveled it. Jason thought it would be a shame if he ever neatened it - it looked good messy.
He was skinny as anything. Suddenly Jason felt positively overweight, even though he knew he wasn't. The black jeans seemed barely capable of staying on the guy's hips, and even though he wore a red t-shirt over a long-sleeved black T you still could see the shape of his chest. His lips were turned down in a strange sort of pouty frown, and he had one of those faces girls described as "boyish and cute" that sent them into giggles whenever he smiled.
Though it didn't look like Calvin smiled a whole lot. Jason wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he felt pretty positive that was the case.
With his own yellow-blonde hair neatly combed, and wearing jeans and a college sweatshirt that were both too big for him, Jason felt every inch his geeky self next to the amazing art student - at least he assumed he was an art student. Which reminded him, "So you're the one who made those sculptures?" He discarded his own winter gear as he spoke, then followed Calvin down the hall to the elevators.
Calvin looked at him, as if confused by the question. "Yeah."
"They're awesome."
For reply, Calvin just shrugged.
Jason frowned. "Hey - shouldn't you get those looked at? Don't they hurt?" he indicated the bruises already discoloring Calvin's face - one high on his left cheek, and another near his jaw. He reached out to stop him, startled when Calvin jerked roughly away.
"I'm fine," Calvin said sullenly.
"Man, you were just pummeled by three guys. I seriously doubt you're okay."
"Eh. They couldn't really get a good hit in what with the snow and ice and all. Plus I've got lots of practice blocking and dodging." Calvin frowned, "Why are you following me?"
"Because I wanted to ask you about the sculptures. That and I seriously doubt the three blockheads have gone home like good little boys."
Calvin nodded, mashing the elevator button. "They're probably waiting at the end of the block. They always hide behind the bushes there, because you can't see anyone who's behind them and that's where I have to walk to get home."
"Those guys really don't like you, do they?"
They stepped onto the elevator as it chimed and opened. Calvin hit the button for the third floor, "They're morons." The ghost of a smug smile flitted across Calvin's lips, "They don't like when I point that out in class. Especially since they can never quite figure out how I do it without actually saying the word moron."
Jason grinned, "That's great. What in the heck are they doing in your art classes anyway? A project like that, you're what? A senior?"
"Junior. And I'm not in the class - I help teach it. It's an intro class so there are always tons of non-majors taking it for general credit. The professor was out sick today so..." Calvin shrugged.
"So they thought they could get away with bugging you more than usual. I see."
Calvin stared at him a moment, and Jason blinked at how intense and focused his brown eyes were. Like they saw everything. Jason hoped that wasn't true, because he was pretty sure Calvin wouldn't like the direction of his thoughts. He stepped off the elevator as it chimed and opened, long legs carrying him rapidly down the hallway to the classroom where he'd apparently left his things.
Jason stood watching him a moment, distracted by the view, then scrambled to catch up. "So how long did the sculptures take you? How do you do it? Will you be able to fix them?"
Calvin paused in packing up his books to stare at him again. Jason fought not to squirm - that gaze was really something. "Do you really like them?"
"Hell yeah! I used to try to make snowmen like that all the time as a kid." Jason grinned, "But I was never much of an artist. Computer geek through and through."
"They're not that hard to make," Calvin said. "It just takes a long time, especially if the snow isn't quite right. I was really lucky that the first snowfall was perfect. Of course now those asses have completely ruined it." He raked a hand through his already messy hair. He moved to the windows that overlooked the front of the building, looking almost sad as he stared down at the ruins of his project.
"Will it take you long to repair them?"
"The way they went about it, I'll just have to finish the destruction and start all over. They won't look the same if I just fix them." Calvin banged his head lightly over and over against the glass. "Bastards."
Jason made sympathetic noises, recalling all too well the frustration he felt whenever Paige had decided it would be amusing to topple some of his creations. Of course generally he'd asked for it by putting something vile in her dresser or feeding one of her sweaters to Quincy, but it had been depressing all the same.
Calvin seemed disinclined to continue speaking, silently mourning his ruined sculptures. Jason let his gaze wander idly over the room - he'd never really been in the art building beyond attending the occasional lecture held in the large lecture hall on the ground floor.
Several paintings lined the far wall, from bizarre abstract works he rolled his eyes at to some tragic lake thing obviously painted by a girl, a few still life pieces - and he almost missed the one shoved into the corner.
Jason knew enough about paintings to realize this one still needed some shading and detail work, though at a glance it would probably appear done to most people. It was oddly cute, amidst all the more "serious" subjects being done by the rest of the art students.
It was an outdoor scene, a close-up of the trunk of a large tree, the ends of a rope ladder trailing down to end next to a beat up little red wagon; clearly whoever had owned it had used it enthusiastically. Sitting in the wagon was a worn and obviously well loved stuffed tiger. Scattered in and around the wagon were various items - a couple of sandwiches, a compass, some unfilled water balloons...it looked like a child had wandered away for a moment, leaving his toys to come back to. Jason looked for and didn't find a name anywhere. Not that he would know the artist anyway.
Reluctantly he turned away from the painting, figuring he'd ignored Calvin long enough - and nearly collided with the other man. "Gah! Warn a guy when you sneak up behind him."
Calvin just looked at him and let the comment pass. "You like that one?"
"Yeah, it's awesome. Reminds me of when my friend Marcus and I used to play outside all the time during the summer. Though my mom killed me whenever I tore my toys up like that."
"My mom never really noticed what I did to the wagon," Calvin replied. "Me and Hobbes used to go riding down hills in the forest all the time. I guess she figured it was part and parcel of living where we did."
"Hobbes?"
"Oh," Calvin's cheeks turned pink, as he realized what he'd said. "The tiger - his name is Hobbes."
Jason blinked, "You painted that?" He grinned, "Wow. What else have you done?"
"Umm..." Calvin seemed at a loss for words. "Not much," he said quietly, almost bashfully. "Why do you care?"
"Uh...I just think it's neat and all. I used to do this kind of stuff all the time as a kid. But I was never very good at it. Computers and stuff are more my thing. I always kinda wished I'd been a better artist."
Calvin shrugged, "My dad thinks I should've gone into the sciences. He says I won't get very far doing artsy stuff. But my dad is kinda old-fashioned about that sort of thing."
"My parents are kind of the opposite. Well, my mom anyway. She's a writer; she gets this confused look on her face whenever I try to talk about my classes. But she thinks it's neat that I understand it. My dad just looks lost and says he has to meet someone for golf." Jason grinned, "And of course my brother and sister just make fun of me. But I always get revenge."
"You have siblings?"
"Yeah - one brother, one sister, both of them older. My mom says dad makes four children for her to take care of."
That surprised a laugh out of Calvin, and Jason's mind momentarily shut down. Smiles on Calvin were lethal to his brain functions.
"My mom mutters stuff like that about my dad occasionally. I think she's happier now that we're both out of the house a lot."
"I know my mom is relieved we're all starting to lead our own lives now. I'm the last one to go."
"I'm an only child, so I'm the only one they had to get rid of." Calvin abruptly turned and headed toward the desk, grabbing something from a drawer before striding to the window. Jason realized he'd grabbed a pair of binoculars.
"What are those for?"
Calvin adjusted the view, twisting so that he could look down the street. "Seeing if the meatheads are still there."
"Are they?"
"Yeah, and they look pretty cozy. I think they've figured out that I just hang around until they're gone or I get bored waiting. It's getting to be a contest, really."
Jason's brows lifted at that, "What's the longest you've waited here?"
Calvin lowered the binoculars and looked at him, "During the summer I usually get stuck up here until about two or three. Once they waited until four."
"AM?" Jason asked, stunned.
"Yeah," Calvin's look said 'duh.'
"Why don't you just take a different route?"
Calvin shrugged, "There is no different route. I live in that house where they hide in the bushes. And there's no real back way, it's up against the wall of another building. I have to go by those bushes to get home, and they jump me every single time."
"So you're just going to stay here all night?" Jason asked, dumbfounded.
"Yeah," Calvin hunched his shoulders, defensive.
Jason made a face, "That's a sucky plan."
"I suppose you have a better idea?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do." Jason pulled out his phone again, and quickly related the problem to security. He flipped the phone closed and stowed it in his pocket. "See? Much easier?"
Calvin didn't say anything, just glared at him and then stalked back across the room to get his things.
"Hey! You could at least say thanks."
"For what? Causing me more problems?" Calvin paused in the doorway, looking as if he might say something more - but then just shook his head and vanished.
By the time Jason bothered to follow him, Calvin was gone. "Damn it." He fidgeted with his glasses before donning his winter gear and settling his bag on his back. Heaving a sigh, he exited the building and slowly trudged his way back to his apartment.
But rather than go inside, he bypassed the window to his place and continued up the fire escape stairs to the roof.
He'd had his own place since first semester sophomore year, after the complaints against him had gotten so bad the college had all but thrown an apartment at him.
At least now he could experiment without upsetting someone. Even if it did get a little too quiet at times.
Jason jumped the last steps and landed hard on the roof, sneakers scraping in the rocks and grime scattered across it. With easy strides, he crossed the short distance to the opposite side of the roof. A dark green tarp had been spread across the top of the roof there, another tarp laid over what appeared to be a small but bulky object.
Whipping the tarp off revealed that it actually covered several small somethings - toy rockets that had undergone extensive customization. His first month there, Jason had been paranoid others would find and tamper with his favorite hobby. But by the third or fourth "incident due to miscalculation" they had decided it was best to avoid the roof. They'd also decided it was best to avoid Jason, which was why he took the fire escape coming and going.
No one there to pretend not to see him. At least they didn't harass him like his dorm mates had.
Near the tarp he kept a small wooden box for tools and other miscellany, and from it he pulled a pair of binoculars. Moving to the edge of the roof, he focused them on the Theta Chi house. Though it was going on midnight, there was plenty of light to see by. The campus was never truly dark, especially on Greek Row where the campus officials had seen to it that as many streetlights as possible had been crammed.
Slowly, carefully, he analyzed the house through his binoculars, occasionally murmuring aloud as he worked through calculations and formulae in his head - he'd probably write it all out later, for appearance's sake. People seemed more inclined to believe in his "miscalculations" when they could see his work on paper, even if they had no clue as to what they were looking at.
He was taking a closer look at the chimney when his cell phone went off. He looked away from the chimney to glance briefly at the caller ID - and grinned as he returned his eyes to the binoculars. He pushed the call button, "Hello?"
"YOU! YOU! YOU!"
"Oh, hey Paige," Jason said with mild surprise. "What are you calling so late for?"
"YOU!"
"Me?"
"You hired a stripper for my bridal shower!"
"Me? No. Someone called a stripper?" Jason said, sounding shocked and horrified. "Was he any good?"
"He was dressed as a storm trooper," Paige said, clearly highly offended.
"Yeah, I had to pay extra for that. Can you believe that's not one of their regular costumes?"
"You're dead Jason. Eric's mother nearly had a heart attack!"
Jason fought not to laugh gleefully. Paige always made it far too easy. "Really? Then you may want paramedics on stand-by for the wedding."
"What!?!?" Paige shrieked. "What are you going to do at my wedding? Don't you dare do anything, Jas-"
"Gotta go, Paige. Take care - tell mom and dad hello for me."
"Just you wait, Jason. You are so going to pay for this."
"Bye." Jason shut his phone off and began to laugh delightedly, not caring one whit if he woke someone up. At last his laughter faded, and he resumed his analysis of the Theta Chi house, triple checking his calculations before returning the binoculars to the box and grabbing his book bag.
It would be way too suspicious to do anything tonight. But lunchtime the day after tomorrow or so would be perfect. And oh, what a miscalculation it was going to be. He just needed to double-check a couple of things tomorrow and he'd be all set.
He lived in a corner apartment on the fourth floor of a rickety old five-story building, with easy access to roof, street and apartment thanks to the fire escape. Reaching the window, he undid the lock he'd put on it and dropped his bag through before sliding inside himself and closing the window behind him. And even though he'd left a table lamp on to avoid coming home to complete darkness, it couldn't spare him coming home to an empty apartment. There was Quincy of course - who was currently dozing on the sofa - but it just wasn't the same. Oh well - he'd get used to it eventually.
Immediately to his right as he stood with his back to the window was his desk - made to fit into the corner and half buried by his computer, accessories and various toys and action figures. Crammed between the desk and the door to his bedroom were two bookcases, over laden with textbooks, manuals, games, and CDs. More of the same was piled in front of the bookcases and around the desk.
In the corner to his left was his TV, with an old sofa, recliner and coffee table from his mom to make up the living room. A small kitchen was beyond that, the front door with a small closet, and the bathroom and bedroom to make up the rest of his apartment.
Suddenly feeling the exhaustion he'd been fighting, Jason discarded his parka and dragged himself to the bathroom. After spending nearly half an hour attempting to drown himself in near-scalding water, he felt a bit more revived. A can of soda and several cookies from his mother improved things further, which was a good thing, because no one else was going to pay his rent or for his books and rockets and all the rest. He had programs to write and games to debug, along with way too many papers to grade.
"Hey, dork! You forgot to wash your dishes again."
Calvin narrowed his eyes at the Super Jerk at the far end of the hallway. "I did wash them. This morning."
"Well, they're dirty and filling up the sink. I guess maybe they used themselves?"
"I washed them. Go find the jerk who used my stuff and yell at him." Mouth tight with anger, Calvin walked toward and then past his housemate - Jeff - just waiting for the Jerk to say anything else.
He didn't, and Calvin gave a mental sigh of relief as he reached the stairs and headed up toward his room.
"Nice bruises, dork." Jeff called after him.
Calvin kept his mouth shut, but made sure to slam his door as hard as possible before locking it behind him. "Asshole," he muttered as he began to strip off his gear, throwing the jacket, gloves and hat in the general vicinity of his closet. He plopped into the small chair in front of his desk and woke his computer from sleep mode, skimming through various emails and grimacing at the one from his professor. He turned to sit sideways in his seat, staring without really seeing the painting he was working on in his room.
For his art major he had two final projects - to replace the classes he should be taking but wasn't because he was in an accelerated program. One project was to be done in sculpture - the snowmen that the Assholes First Class has just demolished. He'd have to work double time now to make up for the loss. Especially as he was going to lose even more of his non-existent free time both avoiding them and exacting revenge. Bastards.
His second project was a series of paintings - three of them. The graduating seniors had been assigned the theme of "childhood" for their final projects, so that was what Calvin was stuck doing.
Which the other students were bitching about to no end. Calvin felt sorry for them. He'd begun actual painting on two of them - the one in the art building and one he worked on here in his room. The art building one was meant to be nostalgic, an image of some of his favorite things growing up - the tree house where they used to hide and water-bomb poor Susie; the wagon that had taken more abuse than a car in a junkyard, and of course Hobbes. He called it "The Days are Just Packed."
The second painting was meant mostly to be funny, though he wanted people to feel a bit creeped out. It was only just barely begun, mostly just a sketch with some base colors laid in. The image was a close-up of a bed, the sheets and blankets bundled up into a lumpy ball in the top center of the image, with only the barest bit of foot and the tip of a black and orange tail peeking out.
Except for a large pair of yellow-green eyes underneath the bed, and a pool of something wet dripping from an unseen mouth. The eyes and the moonlight slinking in through the crack between curtains were the only things not going to be done in blacks, blues and purples. He was calling this one "Something Under the Bed is Drooling."
He hadn't started the last yet, because it was going to be the most difficult. So far it was only a rough drawing in his sketchbook - an image of Hobbes and him running helter-skelter through the backyard with masks, flags and a volleyball, using an old croquet set to construct an obstacle course that had only ever made sense to the two of them. This was also the only painting - the only anything - that showed his Hobbes, the way he saw the tiger growing up. "It's a Magical World," was its title.
Calvin shifted so he was sitting backwards on the chair, propping his chin on arms folded over the back of it, facing the bed and a small figure propped against the pillow. "So Theta Creeps trashed my snowmen. I really wish it was possible to just feed them to you." He was silent a moment, "True. They probably do taste awful. Like beer and fat. Not very appetizing."
Another pause, and then Calvin sighed. "It'll take me forever to redo them all. I was almost done! And I've still got my English finals to work on." He buried his head in his arms a minute, and then looked back up at the bed. "I guess I could just do a joint project - but I don't want to. I want to do the snowmen. I liked the snowmen - those assholes. Lord knows nothing else could get them to do that much exercise outside a trendy gym. Besides..." he hesitated, "That guy really liked them. At least he said he did." He frowned, "It means that maybe if one person besides my professor likes them, then maybe everyone will. And he liked my painting too." Calvin's cheeks turned pink, "It was cool. He didn't laugh or anything. I kept waiting for it." A pause, "No. I forgot to ask. And it doesn't matter - I'm going to die tomorrow anyway. Professor McCarthy called in sick, and thanks to tonight's stranger calling security on the Theta Creeps twice, I'm probably not going to be alive after class ends. If I make it through class."
Calvin grinned suddenly, and it was all mischief and evil intent. "But hey - I can go down with a fight, right?" He sat up straighter, fisting his hands in anticipation, "They've got a booze fest coming up day after tomorrow. They’ll be so wasted and busy tormenting the freshmen they won't notice the destruction to their water and electric until too damn late. I haven't used my power tools once this semester - probably about time I fixed that huh, Hobbes?"
He fell suddenly silent, the gleeful grin fading from his face, head falling back down on his refolded arms. "I'm such a loser."
So. I'll repost the whole story, and in 2-3 chunks, so my apologies for the spamming. It's 26 pages long, which LJ tends to dislike.
Once more for the record: Jason and Calvin (and related chars) are the property of Bill Amend and Bill Watterson, respectively. I intend no harm in my use of these character, I desire only to play and have fun.
Geniuses
"Assholes," Jason muttered as he watched three frat boys wreck the snow sculptures in front of the art building. Well, he assumed they were frat boys. One wore a hoody with the Theta Chi letters on it, and to the best of his knowledge fraternity types didn't generally hang around with non-fraternity types.
The elaborate snowmen they were currently destroying had started to appear right after the first real snow of the season - two whole feet! - and he'd been utterly captivated by them. His own snowmen had never been half so cool growing up. Because these weren't just snowmen, they were masterpieces. It sucked major that he'd never been able to catch the artist at work.
And now, coming back late from his student-teaching job in the computer lab, he was witness to the destruction of the sculptures by Stupid Drunken Frat Boys. It wasn't right - whoever had been making them obviously cared a lot. You didn't do stuff like that with snow just for kicks.
"That'll teach him," one of the guys said to his brothers, who laughed and drunkenly agreed with him. He shoved the head off a lovingly made female, and then set to work destroying her body. Various props were knocked off and lost in the snow.
Jason bit his lip, "Hey!"
Three heads swiveled to look at him, "What do you want, geek?"
Jason fought not to roll his eyes. Honestly, did they think that was an insult? Well, they were Greek boys. "What do you think you're doing?"
"None of your damn business. Fucking get lost."
Whatever Jason might have said next, never got said. From inside the art building a figure came dashing out, a blur of black as he launched himself at the nearest vandal. "Get away, get away!" But the slender man was no match for the heavier builds and greater strength - not to mention numbers - of the three.
"Fuck this," Jason muttered. "Should've done it to begin with." Reaching into his dark green parka, he whipped out his cell phone and flipped it open, cycling through the saved numbers for campus security. A couple of minutes later he flipped it closed, "Hey, meat-for-brains!" Three heads turned to look at him. "You've got two minutes before security arrives to bust your asses."
"What the fuck ever--" but even as the apparent leader spoke, the headlights of a familiar SUV appeared on the road. The three jerks scrambled, leaving their victim cursing in the snow.
Shoving his phone back in his pocket, Jason dashed toward the unfortunate young man. "Hey, man. Are you okay?"
Instead of answering, the other man fumbled in the snow to regain his footing. Jason gripped his arm and helped him up. On his head, the guy's black watch cap had been knocked askew. He righted it, then began looking around in the snow.
Jason frowned, confused, until he spotted the black scarf and mittens lying amidst the white. He retrieved them and handed them over, just as two men in campus security jackets approached them. "Who called?"
"That'd be me," Jason replied.
"What's going on?"
The unknown man in black remained stubbornly mute, as Jason set about explaining what had happened.
One of the security officers looked at the young man, "These were your snowmen?"
"…Yeah," the young man spoke at last. "Final project."
"Any idea why they might've done this?"
"I pissed them off in class earlier today."
Neither officer seemed terribly surprised, "You know who they were then? I think we have a pretty good idea anyway. The three from Theta Chi, right? At least this time you got a witness."
The young man nodded, and added the professor and class.
"All right. We'll look into." The officer winked, "Figures it'd be you again, Calvin. Now both of you get back to your rooms, it's too cold and too late to be wandering around outside. And be careful."
"Yes, sir." Jason and Calvin responded.
Calvin immediately turned back toward the art building, "I left my books and stuff inside," he explained. "Let me get them and I'll head back."
"I'll go with you," Jason said.
The officers hesitated, then nodded and made their way back to their car. "Make it quick, don't linger."
Inside, the two young men stamped their boots and shook off what snow had accumulated on their jackets. Then Calvin surprised Jason by unzipping his black ski jacket and hanging it up along with his mittens, scarf and watch cap.
Jason's mind was torn between "What is he doing?" and "Whoa, damn"
He settled on the 'Whoa, damn.'
Calvin was hot. His hair wasn't the definite yellow that Jason's was, but a dirty wheat blonde - and messy as all get out. Most likely the brief fight in the snow and the watch cap had disheveled it. Jason thought it would be a shame if he ever neatened it - it looked good messy.
He was skinny as anything. Suddenly Jason felt positively overweight, even though he knew he wasn't. The black jeans seemed barely capable of staying on the guy's hips, and even though he wore a red t-shirt over a long-sleeved black T you still could see the shape of his chest. His lips were turned down in a strange sort of pouty frown, and he had one of those faces girls described as "boyish and cute" that sent them into giggles whenever he smiled.
Though it didn't look like Calvin smiled a whole lot. Jason wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he felt pretty positive that was the case.
With his own yellow-blonde hair neatly combed, and wearing jeans and a college sweatshirt that were both too big for him, Jason felt every inch his geeky self next to the amazing art student - at least he assumed he was an art student. Which reminded him, "So you're the one who made those sculptures?" He discarded his own winter gear as he spoke, then followed Calvin down the hall to the elevators.
Calvin looked at him, as if confused by the question. "Yeah."
"They're awesome."
For reply, Calvin just shrugged.
Jason frowned. "Hey - shouldn't you get those looked at? Don't they hurt?" he indicated the bruises already discoloring Calvin's face - one high on his left cheek, and another near his jaw. He reached out to stop him, startled when Calvin jerked roughly away.
"I'm fine," Calvin said sullenly.
"Man, you were just pummeled by three guys. I seriously doubt you're okay."
"Eh. They couldn't really get a good hit in what with the snow and ice and all. Plus I've got lots of practice blocking and dodging." Calvin frowned, "Why are you following me?"
"Because I wanted to ask you about the sculptures. That and I seriously doubt the three blockheads have gone home like good little boys."
Calvin nodded, mashing the elevator button. "They're probably waiting at the end of the block. They always hide behind the bushes there, because you can't see anyone who's behind them and that's where I have to walk to get home."
"Those guys really don't like you, do they?"
They stepped onto the elevator as it chimed and opened. Calvin hit the button for the third floor, "They're morons." The ghost of a smug smile flitted across Calvin's lips, "They don't like when I point that out in class. Especially since they can never quite figure out how I do it without actually saying the word moron."
Jason grinned, "That's great. What in the heck are they doing in your art classes anyway? A project like that, you're what? A senior?"
"Junior. And I'm not in the class - I help teach it. It's an intro class so there are always tons of non-majors taking it for general credit. The professor was out sick today so..." Calvin shrugged.
"So they thought they could get away with bugging you more than usual. I see."
Calvin stared at him a moment, and Jason blinked at how intense and focused his brown eyes were. Like they saw everything. Jason hoped that wasn't true, because he was pretty sure Calvin wouldn't like the direction of his thoughts. He stepped off the elevator as it chimed and opened, long legs carrying him rapidly down the hallway to the classroom where he'd apparently left his things.
Jason stood watching him a moment, distracted by the view, then scrambled to catch up. "So how long did the sculptures take you? How do you do it? Will you be able to fix them?"
Calvin paused in packing up his books to stare at him again. Jason fought not to squirm - that gaze was really something. "Do you really like them?"
"Hell yeah! I used to try to make snowmen like that all the time as a kid." Jason grinned, "But I was never much of an artist. Computer geek through and through."
"They're not that hard to make," Calvin said. "It just takes a long time, especially if the snow isn't quite right. I was really lucky that the first snowfall was perfect. Of course now those asses have completely ruined it." He raked a hand through his already messy hair. He moved to the windows that overlooked the front of the building, looking almost sad as he stared down at the ruins of his project.
"Will it take you long to repair them?"
"The way they went about it, I'll just have to finish the destruction and start all over. They won't look the same if I just fix them." Calvin banged his head lightly over and over against the glass. "Bastards."
Jason made sympathetic noises, recalling all too well the frustration he felt whenever Paige had decided it would be amusing to topple some of his creations. Of course generally he'd asked for it by putting something vile in her dresser or feeding one of her sweaters to Quincy, but it had been depressing all the same.
Calvin seemed disinclined to continue speaking, silently mourning his ruined sculptures. Jason let his gaze wander idly over the room - he'd never really been in the art building beyond attending the occasional lecture held in the large lecture hall on the ground floor.
Several paintings lined the far wall, from bizarre abstract works he rolled his eyes at to some tragic lake thing obviously painted by a girl, a few still life pieces - and he almost missed the one shoved into the corner.
Jason knew enough about paintings to realize this one still needed some shading and detail work, though at a glance it would probably appear done to most people. It was oddly cute, amidst all the more "serious" subjects being done by the rest of the art students.
It was an outdoor scene, a close-up of the trunk of a large tree, the ends of a rope ladder trailing down to end next to a beat up little red wagon; clearly whoever had owned it had used it enthusiastically. Sitting in the wagon was a worn and obviously well loved stuffed tiger. Scattered in and around the wagon were various items - a couple of sandwiches, a compass, some unfilled water balloons...it looked like a child had wandered away for a moment, leaving his toys to come back to. Jason looked for and didn't find a name anywhere. Not that he would know the artist anyway.
Reluctantly he turned away from the painting, figuring he'd ignored Calvin long enough - and nearly collided with the other man. "Gah! Warn a guy when you sneak up behind him."
Calvin just looked at him and let the comment pass. "You like that one?"
"Yeah, it's awesome. Reminds me of when my friend Marcus and I used to play outside all the time during the summer. Though my mom killed me whenever I tore my toys up like that."
"My mom never really noticed what I did to the wagon," Calvin replied. "Me and Hobbes used to go riding down hills in the forest all the time. I guess she figured it was part and parcel of living where we did."
"Hobbes?"
"Oh," Calvin's cheeks turned pink, as he realized what he'd said. "The tiger - his name is Hobbes."
Jason blinked, "You painted that?" He grinned, "Wow. What else have you done?"
"Umm..." Calvin seemed at a loss for words. "Not much," he said quietly, almost bashfully. "Why do you care?"
"Uh...I just think it's neat and all. I used to do this kind of stuff all the time as a kid. But I was never very good at it. Computers and stuff are more my thing. I always kinda wished I'd been a better artist."
Calvin shrugged, "My dad thinks I should've gone into the sciences. He says I won't get very far doing artsy stuff. But my dad is kinda old-fashioned about that sort of thing."
"My parents are kind of the opposite. Well, my mom anyway. She's a writer; she gets this confused look on her face whenever I try to talk about my classes. But she thinks it's neat that I understand it. My dad just looks lost and says he has to meet someone for golf." Jason grinned, "And of course my brother and sister just make fun of me. But I always get revenge."
"You have siblings?"
"Yeah - one brother, one sister, both of them older. My mom says dad makes four children for her to take care of."
That surprised a laugh out of Calvin, and Jason's mind momentarily shut down. Smiles on Calvin were lethal to his brain functions.
"My mom mutters stuff like that about my dad occasionally. I think she's happier now that we're both out of the house a lot."
"I know my mom is relieved we're all starting to lead our own lives now. I'm the last one to go."
"I'm an only child, so I'm the only one they had to get rid of." Calvin abruptly turned and headed toward the desk, grabbing something from a drawer before striding to the window. Jason realized he'd grabbed a pair of binoculars.
"What are those for?"
Calvin adjusted the view, twisting so that he could look down the street. "Seeing if the meatheads are still there."
"Are they?"
"Yeah, and they look pretty cozy. I think they've figured out that I just hang around until they're gone or I get bored waiting. It's getting to be a contest, really."
Jason's brows lifted at that, "What's the longest you've waited here?"
Calvin lowered the binoculars and looked at him, "During the summer I usually get stuck up here until about two or three. Once they waited until four."
"AM?" Jason asked, stunned.
"Yeah," Calvin's look said 'duh.'
"Why don't you just take a different route?"
Calvin shrugged, "There is no different route. I live in that house where they hide in the bushes. And there's no real back way, it's up against the wall of another building. I have to go by those bushes to get home, and they jump me every single time."
"So you're just going to stay here all night?" Jason asked, dumbfounded.
"Yeah," Calvin hunched his shoulders, defensive.
Jason made a face, "That's a sucky plan."
"I suppose you have a better idea?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do." Jason pulled out his phone again, and quickly related the problem to security. He flipped the phone closed and stowed it in his pocket. "See? Much easier?"
Calvin didn't say anything, just glared at him and then stalked back across the room to get his things.
"Hey! You could at least say thanks."
"For what? Causing me more problems?" Calvin paused in the doorway, looking as if he might say something more - but then just shook his head and vanished.
By the time Jason bothered to follow him, Calvin was gone. "Damn it." He fidgeted with his glasses before donning his winter gear and settling his bag on his back. Heaving a sigh, he exited the building and slowly trudged his way back to his apartment.
But rather than go inside, he bypassed the window to his place and continued up the fire escape stairs to the roof.
He'd had his own place since first semester sophomore year, after the complaints against him had gotten so bad the college had all but thrown an apartment at him.
At least now he could experiment without upsetting someone. Even if it did get a little too quiet at times.
Jason jumped the last steps and landed hard on the roof, sneakers scraping in the rocks and grime scattered across it. With easy strides, he crossed the short distance to the opposite side of the roof. A dark green tarp had been spread across the top of the roof there, another tarp laid over what appeared to be a small but bulky object.
Whipping the tarp off revealed that it actually covered several small somethings - toy rockets that had undergone extensive customization. His first month there, Jason had been paranoid others would find and tamper with his favorite hobby. But by the third or fourth "incident due to miscalculation" they had decided it was best to avoid the roof. They'd also decided it was best to avoid Jason, which was why he took the fire escape coming and going.
No one there to pretend not to see him. At least they didn't harass him like his dorm mates had.
Near the tarp he kept a small wooden box for tools and other miscellany, and from it he pulled a pair of binoculars. Moving to the edge of the roof, he focused them on the Theta Chi house. Though it was going on midnight, there was plenty of light to see by. The campus was never truly dark, especially on Greek Row where the campus officials had seen to it that as many streetlights as possible had been crammed.
Slowly, carefully, he analyzed the house through his binoculars, occasionally murmuring aloud as he worked through calculations and formulae in his head - he'd probably write it all out later, for appearance's sake. People seemed more inclined to believe in his "miscalculations" when they could see his work on paper, even if they had no clue as to what they were looking at.
He was taking a closer look at the chimney when his cell phone went off. He looked away from the chimney to glance briefly at the caller ID - and grinned as he returned his eyes to the binoculars. He pushed the call button, "Hello?"
"YOU! YOU! YOU!"
"Oh, hey Paige," Jason said with mild surprise. "What are you calling so late for?"
"YOU!"
"Me?"
"You hired a stripper for my bridal shower!"
"Me? No. Someone called a stripper?" Jason said, sounding shocked and horrified. "Was he any good?"
"He was dressed as a storm trooper," Paige said, clearly highly offended.
"Yeah, I had to pay extra for that. Can you believe that's not one of their regular costumes?"
"You're dead Jason. Eric's mother nearly had a heart attack!"
Jason fought not to laugh gleefully. Paige always made it far too easy. "Really? Then you may want paramedics on stand-by for the wedding."
"What!?!?" Paige shrieked. "What are you going to do at my wedding? Don't you dare do anything, Jas-"
"Gotta go, Paige. Take care - tell mom and dad hello for me."
"Just you wait, Jason. You are so going to pay for this."
"Bye." Jason shut his phone off and began to laugh delightedly, not caring one whit if he woke someone up. At last his laughter faded, and he resumed his analysis of the Theta Chi house, triple checking his calculations before returning the binoculars to the box and grabbing his book bag.
It would be way too suspicious to do anything tonight. But lunchtime the day after tomorrow or so would be perfect. And oh, what a miscalculation it was going to be. He just needed to double-check a couple of things tomorrow and he'd be all set.
He lived in a corner apartment on the fourth floor of a rickety old five-story building, with easy access to roof, street and apartment thanks to the fire escape. Reaching the window, he undid the lock he'd put on it and dropped his bag through before sliding inside himself and closing the window behind him. And even though he'd left a table lamp on to avoid coming home to complete darkness, it couldn't spare him coming home to an empty apartment. There was Quincy of course - who was currently dozing on the sofa - but it just wasn't the same. Oh well - he'd get used to it eventually.
Immediately to his right as he stood with his back to the window was his desk - made to fit into the corner and half buried by his computer, accessories and various toys and action figures. Crammed between the desk and the door to his bedroom were two bookcases, over laden with textbooks, manuals, games, and CDs. More of the same was piled in front of the bookcases and around the desk.
In the corner to his left was his TV, with an old sofa, recliner and coffee table from his mom to make up the living room. A small kitchen was beyond that, the front door with a small closet, and the bathroom and bedroom to make up the rest of his apartment.
Suddenly feeling the exhaustion he'd been fighting, Jason discarded his parka and dragged himself to the bathroom. After spending nearly half an hour attempting to drown himself in near-scalding water, he felt a bit more revived. A can of soda and several cookies from his mother improved things further, which was a good thing, because no one else was going to pay his rent or for his books and rockets and all the rest. He had programs to write and games to debug, along with way too many papers to grade.
*~*~*~*
"Hey, dork! You forgot to wash your dishes again."
Calvin narrowed his eyes at the Super Jerk at the far end of the hallway. "I did wash them. This morning."
"Well, they're dirty and filling up the sink. I guess maybe they used themselves?"
"I washed them. Go find the jerk who used my stuff and yell at him." Mouth tight with anger, Calvin walked toward and then past his housemate - Jeff - just waiting for the Jerk to say anything else.
He didn't, and Calvin gave a mental sigh of relief as he reached the stairs and headed up toward his room.
"Nice bruises, dork." Jeff called after him.
Calvin kept his mouth shut, but made sure to slam his door as hard as possible before locking it behind him. "Asshole," he muttered as he began to strip off his gear, throwing the jacket, gloves and hat in the general vicinity of his closet. He plopped into the small chair in front of his desk and woke his computer from sleep mode, skimming through various emails and grimacing at the one from his professor. He turned to sit sideways in his seat, staring without really seeing the painting he was working on in his room.
For his art major he had two final projects - to replace the classes he should be taking but wasn't because he was in an accelerated program. One project was to be done in sculpture - the snowmen that the Assholes First Class has just demolished. He'd have to work double time now to make up for the loss. Especially as he was going to lose even more of his non-existent free time both avoiding them and exacting revenge. Bastards.
His second project was a series of paintings - three of them. The graduating seniors had been assigned the theme of "childhood" for their final projects, so that was what Calvin was stuck doing.
Which the other students were bitching about to no end. Calvin felt sorry for them. He'd begun actual painting on two of them - the one in the art building and one he worked on here in his room. The art building one was meant to be nostalgic, an image of some of his favorite things growing up - the tree house where they used to hide and water-bomb poor Susie; the wagon that had taken more abuse than a car in a junkyard, and of course Hobbes. He called it "The Days are Just Packed."
The second painting was meant mostly to be funny, though he wanted people to feel a bit creeped out. It was only just barely begun, mostly just a sketch with some base colors laid in. The image was a close-up of a bed, the sheets and blankets bundled up into a lumpy ball in the top center of the image, with only the barest bit of foot and the tip of a black and orange tail peeking out.
Except for a large pair of yellow-green eyes underneath the bed, and a pool of something wet dripping from an unseen mouth. The eyes and the moonlight slinking in through the crack between curtains were the only things not going to be done in blacks, blues and purples. He was calling this one "Something Under the Bed is Drooling."
He hadn't started the last yet, because it was going to be the most difficult. So far it was only a rough drawing in his sketchbook - an image of Hobbes and him running helter-skelter through the backyard with masks, flags and a volleyball, using an old croquet set to construct an obstacle course that had only ever made sense to the two of them. This was also the only painting - the only anything - that showed his Hobbes, the way he saw the tiger growing up. "It's a Magical World," was its title.
Calvin shifted so he was sitting backwards on the chair, propping his chin on arms folded over the back of it, facing the bed and a small figure propped against the pillow. "So Theta Creeps trashed my snowmen. I really wish it was possible to just feed them to you." He was silent a moment, "True. They probably do taste awful. Like beer and fat. Not very appetizing."
Another pause, and then Calvin sighed. "It'll take me forever to redo them all. I was almost done! And I've still got my English finals to work on." He buried his head in his arms a minute, and then looked back up at the bed. "I guess I could just do a joint project - but I don't want to. I want to do the snowmen. I liked the snowmen - those assholes. Lord knows nothing else could get them to do that much exercise outside a trendy gym. Besides..." he hesitated, "That guy really liked them. At least he said he did." He frowned, "It means that maybe if one person besides my professor likes them, then maybe everyone will. And he liked my painting too." Calvin's cheeks turned pink, "It was cool. He didn't laugh or anything. I kept waiting for it." A pause, "No. I forgot to ask. And it doesn't matter - I'm going to die tomorrow anyway. Professor McCarthy called in sick, and thanks to tonight's stranger calling security on the Theta Creeps twice, I'm probably not going to be alive after class ends. If I make it through class."
Calvin grinned suddenly, and it was all mischief and evil intent. "But hey - I can go down with a fight, right?" He sat up straighter, fisting his hands in anticipation, "They've got a booze fest coming up day after tomorrow. They’ll be so wasted and busy tormenting the freshmen they won't notice the destruction to their water and electric until too damn late. I haven't used my power tools once this semester - probably about time I fixed that huh, Hobbes?"
He fell suddenly silent, the gleeful grin fading from his face, head falling back down on his refolded arms. "I'm such a loser."
