|Save Me, San Francisco
Author: Just Another Lonely Girl PM
William Carr is living the stereotypical life; he's a high school history teacher, lives in an apartment with his best friend, and has nearly nothing to worry about. Will's problem, however? He tends to get sucked into things too big for him to handle.Rated: Fiction T - English - Mystery/Crime - Chapters: 9 - Words: 15,520 - Reviews: 26 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 5 - Updated: 06-01-12 - Published: 08-06-11 - id: 2940689
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"You have school today, no?"
Javier's words were fuzzy in my ears. They sounded like garbled syllables from some sort of foreign language that wasn't making its mark on my brain. I shooed him away with a hand.
"Liam!" His voice was a lot sharper than the first time. I suspected he was getting irritated with me. I wasn't quite sure why. I rolled over and opened my eyes a fraction of an inch. Squinted.
"Will." I corrected. "What do you want?"
My words were hoarse and spilled out of my mouth in a mumbled tangent. Javier raised his eyebrows.
"I said, do you not have school today? It's a Wednesday, Liam."
I frowned and rand a hand sleepily down my face. When I opened my eyes again, Javier's face was blurry and his features almost non-existent. I groaned.
"What time is it?"
"Eight twenty seven."
My eyes shot open. Eight twenty seven. I reached a hand out to my left and fumbled around, looking for the stupid frames that were my glasses. They dug into my hand and I slapped them onto my face.
"Why didn't you wake me up you moron?" I scrambled out of the sheets. Javier watched my movements with raised eyebrows. I threw open a dresser drawer and grabbed the first pair of jeans I saw. My eyes drifted back to Javier. He stood in front of me with arms crossed over his chest.
"I would figure," He began, "That since you are a teacher, you would have the common sense to set your alarm before passing out. Then again, this is you we're talking about, Liam."
He winked. He honestly winked at me. "For the last time," I said, zipping up my pants and pulling on a shirt, "My name is Will. Not Liam."
"Oh?" He smiled, "William. Will. Liam. I thought it worked."
I rolled my eyes. "I need my car keys."
"Kitchen table." He sighed. I smiled.
"Thank you, Javier."
He punched me in the shoulder. I rubbed the spot and frowned at him. "Rude."
I'm pretty sure he watched while I jogged past him and into the kitchen or our two bedroom apartment, scrambling across the table in search of my keys. The little piece of metal glinted from beneath the newspaper and I snatched it up.
"I'm off!" I called loudly.
"I made you lunch," Javier said softly. I stopped in front of the door and spun to look at him, "Caesar salad."
I grinned and skipped to the fridge. Inside was that beautiful salad, packed up in a plastic container. I pulled it out and sat it on the counter.
"Javier Silva, you are the greatest roommate ever." I clapped my hands down on his shoulders and smiled. He returned it and slapped the side of my head.
"I know." He said, "Go to school."
I only have one complaint about being a teacher. Actually, if I put forth some thought, I have a lot of complaints, but the main one? My kids are allowed to show up late, but if I'm one minute past the time clock, I'm the one in the principal's office.
Makes a lot of sense, huh?
I didn't think so either.
If you've been wondering, my name is William Lucas Carr. I'm quite the character, if I do say so myself. Quite the excellent looking, charismatic, intelligent character. But those stories are for another day. I teach grade twelve history at an ugly little high school in the center of a quaint little city called Oshawa, except Oshawa is as far from quaint as one could get. There's a reason they call it the 'dirty 'Shwa'.
I really do like my job. Ignore my constant complaining. I'm a lot like my father.
Back at the apartment is Javier Silva. Javier's my wonderful Brazilian roommate, and my best friend. I've known him for years, though I find he's more like a housewife than a roommate. Javier is a gym teacher at a cute little elementary school in the suburbs.
I call him a referee. He doesn't like that much.
As for family, well, I've got a mother and a father, like you've most likely guessed. Pair that up with my obnoxious older sister that I really love more than I let on. My mother is Doctor Katelyn Carr, a forensic anthropologist with the Geffersonian Institution, or as I refer to her; the fiend responsible for my horrendous nearsightedness. My father, Special Agent Ryan Carr, is and has been an agent for the FBI since he was twenty one. I refer to him as the gene pool responsible for my dashing good looks.
And then there's Jadyn.
Jadyn is thirty six, ten years older than me, and more annoying than I'd care to admit. I'd like to say she's this loving, beautiful girl that treated me like a prince when I was a kid, but that would be lying, and lying is bad.
According to Sesame Street.
Not that she's not loving or beautiful. She really is. Just not towards me, you see. Sibling rivalry at its finest.
Snap back to reality.
I pulled into the parking lot at exactly eight forty four. One minute early.
The urge to pump a fist in the air triumphantly was trumped by the knowledge that I am an adult, and adults don't so such things.
I had to run to make it to my classroom on time. The bell sounded just as I flopped into the swivel chair behind my desk with the big iMac on it. Behind me, the SmartBoard lit up. Trying to look as cool and casual as possible, I leaned back in the chair and threw my hands behind my head, watching the students trickle in slowly.
I much prefer twelfth graders over ninth graders.
It's like those Tempur Pedic mattress commercials. You can feel the difference.
The mornings are always very slow. First class of the day never wants to do anything. Not one finger is ever lifted in Mr. Carr's first period Canadian History class.
Hell. I don't even want to move when I get to school. I know where they're coming from.
"Good morning!" I called in the most chipper voice I could muster, given that I'd barely been awake for twenty minutes and was already wishing for the day to be over.
Do you think I got an answer from any of my students?
Hah. Good one.
"Well aren't you all so enthusiastic on this bright Wednesday morning."
I stood from the chair and took my place centre stage. "I was originally going to dedicate this class to your Independent Study Units, but I figure that hell, we've got all month to work on those. That's why," I trailed off excitedly, "Today we're going to watch a movie!"
A ginger girl in the back that I could safely say I didn't like shot her hand into the air. I did my best to remember her name. Angie? Josephine? Belinda?
"Yes?" I avoided the name. For now.
"What movie?" She asked. Her tone suggested she was going to take this educational opportunity to catch up on her sleep.
"I was thinking," I went back to the desk and shot open the drawer, surfing through the pile of DVD's I kept in case of emergency. Truth be told, I'd woken up so late that I hadn't even had a lesson plan. Staying up until four thirty in the morning to mark essays will do that to you, "That we would throw on Schindler's List. Excellent example of persecution against the Jews in World War II. What do you think?"
A blond boy at the front who I knew to be Matthew rolled his eyes and snorted in derision.
"We already learned about World War II."
I frowned. "Who was Hitler's right hand man?"
He fell silent.
"And that, my dear children, is exactly why we are watching this movie! So we can learn!"
I ignored any other hands that may or may not have shot up. Spinning on a heel, I nearly skipped over to my computer. I popped the CD in its fancy little drive, hopped to the lights to flick them off, and jumped back to my chair, leaning back as the opening credits played across the Smart Board.
And that was the moment that Matthew Hopkins decided he wanted to talk. Not whispering, either. Full on 'I hate this class and this movie' talking.
I tolerated it for a good ten minutes.
Then he started laughing, and it sounded like a dog being run over by a transport truck. The laughing turned into shouting and the shouting turned into me tapping my foot impatiently against the floor.
"Matt, if you don't shut up right now, I'm going to shove a fork down your trachea."
I've been told my teaching methods are…interesting.
It got him to shut up, at least.
We were halfway through the movie when someone who obviously wanted to be crucified knocked on the door. I didn't bother stopping the movie, and pointed to a brunette girl at the front of the class who looked reasonable enough.
"Maddie, you're in charge. I'll be back in a minute."
On the other side of the door was Miss Westerfeld.
Remember your high school years? The days when you showed up late because of an accident or a sickness or whatever reason? Remember how you'd go to get your late slip, and there would always be that one secretary that harassed you for a good ten minutes about punctuality and how you didn't have any?
That was who Miss Westerfeld was.
"Morning, Jeanie!" I greeted cheerfully. If she couldn't comment on my punctuality, I'm sure she'd find something wrong with my happy demeanour. She nearly glared.
"Mister Carr." She acknowledged. The smile didn't leave my face, "It has been brought to the faculty's attention that Keith will not be in attendance for the next few days."
I let my eyes widen.
Keith Warren. School principal .The children are scared of him, but he's quite a nice guy as far as I'm concerned. Three kids, a wife who's got brain cancer.
You start to feel kind of bad for the guy.
"Oh?" I inquired, "Why not?"
Jeanie Westerfeld's eyes met the floor.
"His daughter is missing."
Look who's got nothing better to do with her time than start a whole new series with Katelyn and Ryan's son!
If you're not familiar with Little William Lucas or how he came about: At the end of my collaboration story with Itli, it was magically revealed that Katelyn was pregnant again. And that is how William Lucas Carr was born.
I love him.
Okay please review I will adore you the end.