Call Me Ishmael (Open)

[Adam White]

It was four o’clock in the afternoon. And at four o’clock every day, Monday through Friday, Adam White could be found in the same place doing the exact same thing. Sitting at the desk at the head of his empty classroom, grading papers. Everybody knew that from three-thirty until five-thirty, this is where he’d be.

Not only did he like routine, there was something comforting in knowing how one was going to spend their day and what would happen at certain times, but also he felt it gave students more than an ample amount of time to seek him out and ask question or seek help. Because he made sure every one of his students knew his schedule. Well, his school schedule at least. He arrived an hour before classes began, he had an hour for lunch, and then two hours after class. If they could not find time within those works to seek his help, then they must not truly need it.

With a sigh, he shook his head. After uncapping his pen, he attempted to make a mark, only to discover his pen had run dry. Setting it aside, he opened a drawer to reveal a stock of the exact same brand of red pen. Pulling a new one out, he marked an error on the quiz he’d handed out earlier in the day. The amount of red marks on the quiz was a bit disappointing. He’d have to have a discussion the next day with his classes.

That was when he heard a knock. Another rule he had, knocking. Even when his door was open (which it wasn’t at the time being), though then it was more to announce one’s presence. Setting the quiz in hand on the stack of those already graded, he leaned back in his chair. “Come in.” he stated, looking to the door expectantly.

[Braxton Carson]

((invading! sorry for length of the post, I simply wanted to provide some loose general backstory between the two here, since there is supposed to be xD))

Braxton was struggling with a paper he had to deliver. See, usually, the twins would do the work for him, as they do most of Braxton's homework since he entered college, but after he had an argument with them, which involved he spreading the gossip that they had sex between them, he had found himself struggling to find someone else to pay for his homework. Apparently the twins had managed to spread the word among the other UVM nerds that he didn't pay or something, and now he was stuck doing his homework for himself.

Up until now, it hadn't been hard to do those marketing charts and book reviews a couple of paragraphs long, but now he was tasked with writing a paper with a minimum of five pages, something he had never been close to do ever before. He couldn't ask for help in the nerd community, as he had been temporary shunned from it, and it wasn't like any of his friends could actually help him, the few ones that were about smart enough to do so were somehow busy, including Ethan. He figured it was a good idea to look for a teacher to ask, but after presenting amazingly good papers through all his college history, thanks to the twins, it seemed suspicious to not being able to present this paper with ease, so he resorted to look for a Hammel teacher.

He could ask for help from teachers in his old school, right? It didn't sound like a bad idea in Brax's head, at least.

"Hi, I..." he said as he entered the office, coldly stopping as he recognized the face behind the desk.

It didn't sound like a bad idea until, of course, he noticed that the English teacher at the office right now was none other than Ethan's dad. Biting his lip awkwardly, Braxton hoped the white-haired man didn't recognizing him as the worst influence that he had been to Ethan since they met. Or that he didn't recognize that Christmas dinner at the White house where Braxton couldn't stop making horrific sex-related jokes in front of Brea. Or that he didn't remember that time Braxton threw up all over the White house after an alcohol-filled party night in which, for some reason, Ethan decided to bring Braxton to his place. Or that Mr. White didn't remember Braxton was responsible for that hole in the wall of Ethan's old apartment that apparently costed a lot of money to repair.

"You know, I think I got the wrong office..." he nodded softly.

All in all, Braxton hoped the older man didn't remember him at all.

[Adam White]

The likelihood of Adam not remembering the young man was not a good one. Especially when one consider everything that had happened since Braxton had come into the life of his oldest son. The trouble he’d caused. The antics that Adam knew Ethan was above. Yet, for some reason, he’d chosen this… person… to be a friend.

“Mr. Carson.” Adam stated, managing to his tone even, if not uninterested. “Please, come in.” He waved his hand to a chair he kept pulled up to his desk during his grading hours in case a student were to approach his room.

Though, typically, it was a current student of Hammel, so it was a bit peculiar for one already graduated to be visiting. Perhaps Braxton was coming to pay him for the damages done to the White home. Hell, Adam would even take a promise to attempt to behave better. At least in front of Ethan.

Leaning back in his chair, Adam folded his hands across his stomach. “What is that I can do for you today?” Still, no matter his opinion of the people his oldest son choose to be friends with, Adam saw reason to not be polite to the young man. Though, he would attempt to share his concern as the role he might be playing in Ethan’s life. He was Adam’s son after all. Making sure his son was always in good hands and made good choices was his responsibility.

(No, thanks VERY much for including the background, it was very helpful! Also, I'm sorry it's so short!)

[Braxton Carson]

Braxton was already in his way out when the sudden mention of his name made him freeze in his spot. Several drops of sweat were already forming int he boy's forehead, and he was sure they were about to become a river along his face. A second after Mr. White told him to come in, he found himself sitting in front of the desk, not entirely sure how it had happened. Why did I...? Aww crap.

"I don't know," Braxton answered simply. Where am I again?" he raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure I'm in the wrong office. And school. I mean, this is Hammel, right? I don't study here anymore, I should be in UVM, what am I doing here?" he cocked his head aside lightly. "What was your question again?"

Between tapping the floor rapidly with his left foot and cleaning his face from sweat every two seconds, it had to be obvious Braxton was very nervous in front of Ethan's dad, after all, it was the first time he was alone with him, and even though Braxton hardly pays attention to Ethan when he's talking about his family (in fact, he still can't tell if Ethan's dad's name is Chris or Adam), he knows that he isn't held in the highest of opinions by any of his best friend's parents. Not even Braxton is that oblivious.

"Yeah, I should definitely go. Things to do, all that," he nodded. "Homework to do, papers to read, errands to run, girls to fffffff........." he let a small silence as his eyes darted away. "I... am blank. Don't know any other F word, can I go now?"

[Adam White]

The fact that Braxton seemed to not know where he was raised a few of Adam’s red flags. As did why he was here in the first place. The English teacher could understand being nervous when all past infractions were considered. “Yes, you’re at Hammel. In my office. The English department. Are you ill?” Adam didn’t want to offend the young man, but he doubted he was sick. But he did have his other suspicions as to what exactly was wrong.

Watching him carefully, Mr. White was only further convinced of his assumption. The random train of thought, the odd behavior. With a sigh, he leaned forward on his arms, already planning a discussion later with Ethan on just what kind of people his friends were.

“Girls to fraternize with.” Adam offered to him, silently reprimanding him for such vulgar use of the English language. It certainly wasn’t the most beautifully spoken language. But it could be beautiful if only one would make the attempt to learn new works and use those words. Of course, Adam himself wasn’t above the occasional obscenity. But only on the rarest of occasions.

Leaning forward, Adam rested his arms on his desk. “Braxton,” only using his first name because he was trying to be more sensitive as his question might offend him. “I don’t mean to pry or upset you by asking, but have you ingested anything recently? Anything chemical? If you have, we should see to it you receive medical attention.”