Title: Summer in Miami (3 / ?)
Fandom: The Faculty / Casey & Zeke (no pairing)
Summery: Casey is a High Society Guy and Zeke just the boy from the garage
Disclaimer: The Faculty and the boys are not mine, of course ;)
You can find all chapters of this story: here
“Why did you do that? Why did you tell the doc that I was worried because Andy didn't answer the phone? That I came here to look after him and when I found him in that state I run outside, looking for help, where I thankfully met you.”
Because he hadn't been sure if Andrew would survive. Because Casey could get into a lot of trouble for leaving him alone in his bad state instead of calling for help. Because it felt as if he needed to protect him.
Zeke looked up from his coffee.
“When it turns out that he takes illegal drugs there will be a lot of questions. Do you really want to answer them?”
Casey shrugged. In the meantime he was almost sober again, the shock and the coffee had helped a lot. The doctor from the resort had looked at Andrew first, of course. His state was still serious but not life-threatening any longer. Some time at the hospital would hopefully be enough for him to recover completely. Finally the doc had insisted to examine Casey too.
“I'm okay,” he had protested weakly.
“I didn't do anything wrong.”
“So let me do my job,” the doc had ignored him and grabbed for his arm to take the pulse.
Certainly it was not the first time that he was called for such a case of emergency in the middle of the night. There were a lot wild parties going on every day, always involved much alcohol and often enough drugs too. He was good in his job, didn't ask curious questions, but did what needed to be done, even against the guest's will if needed. Finally he let him go satisfied. Beside of a slightly raised blood pressure and a touch of dizziness Casey seemed to be okay.
“But no more parties tonight,” said the doc in a stern voice.
“You need to rest. I will bring you back into your room as soon as the ambulance is here to take care of Mr. Edwards.”
“I can do that,” Zeke had offered.
“I guess I should go back into the garage anyway.”
Now, almost one hour later, he was still here, in Casey's apartment, a cup of coffee in front of him. Actually it was the third.
“Wanna come in,” Casey had asked when they reached the second floor.
“I guess I have some ice.”
“For your eye.”
Casey shrugged, looking embarrassed.
“Sorry for that.”
It was indeed slightly swollen but not as worse as Zeke had expected first.
“Nothing big,” he said and smirked slightly.
“I guess I should better say 'Good night' to you now. Remember, the doc told you to take some rest.”
“But I can't be alone now.”
His voice sounded almost desperate.
“Hey, my coffee is good, not this hotel stuff, I have my own espresso maker. I'm afraid I'm a coffee junkie.”
This had turned out to be an understatement, the coffee was the best Zeke had ever had. Casey told him that he ordered it in the internet.
“It's called Yauco selecto, only three coffee plantations in Puerto Rico produce it.”
He had changed his party clothes, was now wearing a plain t-shirt and shorts, had settled down into the comfy couch and finally started to relax a bit. Zeke secretly enjoyed it to see him like that, without the stupid mask he usually put on. Deep inside he was a caring young man, smart and thoughtful. Zeke let his eyes wander through his apartment, what a difference to Andrew's luxury Suite. Even if it was just a hotel room, Casey had given it a personal touch. Not only with the coffee maker on the bar. The book on the table, Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment, not what a nineteen year old boy usually read during summer. The old pic on the small shelf beside the bed; it showed an elderly woman with a baby on her arms. The blue eyes gave away who it was: Casey. The woman might be his grandmother and he still loved her enough to put this pic up in his hotel room.
Four photos on the wall over the bed. A real eye-catcher. A big, old tree, always taken from the same perspective which made it look even more impressive. On a rainy, stormy day. At night, the stars sparkling through the branches. Under the burning sun of an endless summer day. Snow-laden in winter. Casey noticed his curious look and smiled.
„Do you like?“
“They are interesting. Where did you find them?”
“They are mine.”
“Yes, I know!”
“The taste of art of the resort is different. They would never put up stuff like that.”
“I will take this as a compliment.”
Zeke looked at him stunned.
“Wait, you mean you are the photographer? Are you visiting an art school, or what?”
“No. It is … it was just a hobby.”
Casey shook the head.
“Back in Herrington I liked to go into the woods and to the lake nearby and take photos of the nature around. The tree was standing in our garden, since I can remember it was always there. When I was younger I sometimes sneaked out of the house and told him all my secrets. He was like a friend for me.”
Suddenly he stopped and looked embarrassed.
“I guess they were right. I was a real freak.”
Zeke rolled the tongue around in his mouth, like he used to do when he was thinking hard.
“Everyone at Highschool. Not the teachers, no, I always was a good student, willing to learn. The others students though ...”
“In the best case they ignored me. The jocks liked to use me as their punching ball. My camera kept me sane back then.”
He looked somehow sad when he continued.
“But then everything changed. My dad suddenly was a famous lawyer and stayed in the office around the clock. We moved to Columbus. My mom was busy with shopping for the new house and the garden. She loves doing this. But I hate the town and felt even more alone then before.”
Zeke looked at him thoughtful. All this didn't sound like the high society guy he tried to act like now. And he wondered what had happened to change him that much. Casey sighed slightly. As if long overdue he continued.
“Some times later my dad decided that it would be time for me to integrate into the new society we are living into now. To make new friends. He send me to a private boarding school a client had told him about. His son was visiting this school too. Andy, I shared a room with him. They let the boys share rooms at school because it's good for the social cohesion.”
Friends? Social cohesion? How could someone expect that a young boy from a small town in Ohio, who loved photography and secretly talked with trees, would be able to make friends in an exclusive school full of rich, spoiled guys? It was not hard for Zeke to imagine how difficult it had been for Casey; even more admirable that he had been strong enough to survive in this shark pool. Just the price was too high, he had to change into someone he wasn't …
“But that's history now. We did graduate two month ago. Andy wanted this summer to be like one great party because in a few weeks we all will go separated ways.”
Good. Maybe it was not too late. Casey would go to College where he would hopefully find other friends … friends who shared his interests, friends who wouldn't be as shallow as Andrew was. He would find his own way ...
“Any plans for the future,” Zeke asked.
Yeah. I will go to Stanford next month.”
“Wow, that's cool. Lemme guess. Art and Photography?”
Suddenly Casey's face darkened.
“No. Law school, of course.”
Zeke couldn't even say why he suddenly felt so disappointed.
“The little boy who tries to step into daddy's big shoes.”
Casey narrowed his eyes.
“It's nothing wrong with it, isn't it,” he hissed.
“My dad is a good lawyer and he's working hard all day long.”
“Sure. If this is what you want. Working your ass of for some stupid dumbheads who act as if they own the world just because they were born richer as rich. Who will get away scot-free with anything they do thanks to you. If this is the future you are dreaming about, I guess it's okay.”
For a moment Casey looked stunned, then he jumped up.
“How can you dare it to judge about my life? You don't know anything about me.”
He stopped, gasping for air.
“You are just hanging around in your stupid garage, together with this old man and ...”
“Hey! Careful with what you say!”
Zeke had left his chair too, was standing close to Casey now. The boy didn't flinch, just stared back at him with furious sparkling eyes.
“Ben is so much more worth than all of your so-called friends together.”
“At least I have some,” Casey yelled back.
“No one gives a shit about you. When you are not busy in the garage you are hanging around at the employees pool, your nose in a book. Always on your one! I bet you never get an invitation to a party. Because you are such a boring prick.”
If Zeke hadn't been well-trained never to show his feelings, Casey would probably have noticed his surprise. The last he had expected was that Casey did take notice of him. He was much to busy to play the tough High Society guy who had no eye for the simple folk around. But obviously he knew quite well how Zeke liked to spent his days … and nights. Even if he did read it wrong.
Zeke didn't mind to be alone. He loved to work in the garage. Fast, extraordinary, expensive cars were one of the few things from his past he sometimes missed. The job was perfect, not best paid, but the small apartment he lived in over summer was cheap and he had even managed it to have it all for him alone though the temporary staff of the resort usually had to share rooms. Three meals a days and the refreshments for free. His free time he could spend at the small pool at the end of the big swimming area, only for employees, and he had it mostly for himself. The others spend their days working … or sleeping ... only to turn the nights into days, partying in the clubs and at the beach. And Zeke would go down into the garage, working at the cars, chatting with Ben. First they had invited him to come along, but apart from a beer and few games of billiard in the little pub nearby he was not interested in the nightlife of Miami.
Zeke chuckled slightly. Most of them would probably agree with Casey: He was a pretty boring chap nowadays. But he couldn't care less.