Fic for Casey/Zeke Love Month

[sophinisba]

Title: Casey Connor Talks to His High School Guidance Counselor
Pairing: Casey/Zeke (also featuring OMC)
Rating: PG
Words: 1545
Notes: Started a little over two years ago, finished thanks to honeyandvinegar and Casey/Zeke Love Month, betaed by claudia603, dedicated to aprilkat.



"Hey, Casey."

"Hi, Mr. Malinski."

"Have a seat."

Tom gestures to him to sit down in the comfy chair across from him. Tom doesn't feel the need to keep a desk between himself and the students, he'd rather treat them as friends. And Casey Connor's one of the few who's always really gone for it. He sought out the guidance counselor's office and come here to chat, years before he really needed to think about where he was going to college. He's actually been here less during his senior year, probably since he finally has friends his age now and doesn't need this place as a shelter from his enemies.

"How are things going? How was the end of the semester?"

"Not too bad. I got all those applications in. Except for the one for Oberlin. Thanks for doing that rec for me so fast."

"Oh, that's no problem. I had it written out for you for the other schools. I think with your record and the recommendations from Miss Burke and Mr. Knowles you shouldn't have any problem getting in."

"You really think so?" He still looks so young when he smiles like that, and so trusting. Then there's a shadow of uncertainty, and he looks down to say, "I um... I'd been planning to ask Mr. Furlong for one, but, you know."

Hiring a new principal and a new biology teacher that fall with no official reason why the old ones were no longer around had been, well, awkward. Tom knew from talks in the faculty lounge that the new bio teacher was terrified of Casey and Zeke both, so it made sense that he hadn't been able to ask her for a recommendation.

"Don't worry about it. The only thing I wanted to talk to you about…I didn't get a chance to see your essays for the other schools, but the one for Oberlin... Well, I'd encourage you to write about a different subject, Casey."

And now Casey's all tension again. You can see it in his shoulders. That's the way he used to hold himself in the old days.

"Doesn't really make sense for me to write about anything else," he says carefully.

"It's just not very...conventional."

"So who says I want to be conventional? Did you even look at the brochure from Oberlin? The earth from space on the cover, and it says, 'Think you can change the world?' And on the inside it says, 'So do we.' Well, come on, I already have changed the world, saved it, right? And before I even finished high school. Don't you think they'd want to know that? Don't you think it makes me the kind of student they're looking for?"

"It's... It's good that you're reading the materials that they sent you, Casey. That'll help you figure out which school is right for you, and there are huge differences there. But as for admissions committees, they're really all looking for the same thing: smart students, students with good grades, motivation to learn, some extra-curriculars to demonstrate leadership ability…sane. Every college admissions committee wants sane students."

"But I am –"

"Of course you are, Casey. You're exactly the kind of student Oberlin or any other college would want. I know that and you know that, but people who didn't live through it don't understand that you don't have to be crazy to believe in aliens. I've stopped trying to convince anybody I know who isn't from Herrington, even my mom. It's just a question of strategies."

"This is stupid. It's not like it's a secret or anything. And it's not like it's anything to be ashamed of."

The look he gives Tom then means they both understand perfectly well that there's more to that part of it than aliens.

"Well, not as such, but it's –"

"Even if they didn't remember my name, it's Herrington, Mr. Malinski, and they're in Ohio. As soon as they see my address or the name of the high school they'll think of it, and then they'll know it's me. It doesn't make any sense to pretend it didn't happen."

"It doesn't have to make sense, Casey; it's the way things work." Casey looks outraged at this. Tom ignores him. "And anyway, speaking of small towns in Ohio, where did this come from? When did this even happen? When we talked in September it was NYU, Northeastern, or UCLA. I talked to you about Oberlin and you didn't want to hear anything about it. I even tried to get you to apply to Macalester and you said the Twin Cities were too small and too close."

"Yeah, well..."

"Well?"

"Things were different in September. I mean, things have changed."

"Because you're an alien killer now, right, but why does that make a small liberal arts college two hours away from Herrington more appealing than it was?"

"No, it's not about... I mean, everything's connected to that, obviously, but it's..."

"Yes?"

"Well, um, you know that, uh..." Tom hasn't seen Casey squirm like this since before the aliens. It's fascinating. "You know I was going out with Delilah Profitt for a while, right? And how that didn't work out?"

Tom Malinski isn't really one to pay too much attention to the couplings among Herrington's students, but Casey Connor with Delilah Profitt really had been something extraordinary, enough to get his attention. And what had happened afterwards...

"Yeah, I heard that."

"Right. And, um, you probably talked to Zeke about next year. You know, how he hadn't been planning to go to college before and he can't really get into good places because of his grades. But with his test scores and now the football thing it looks like it's gonna work out for him to go to Ohio State - Herrington."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Tom nods slowly. "And you two don't want to be too far apart."

"Yeah."

"That's great, man. That's..."

"We were thinking, um, that he could stay at his parents' place in Herrington but we could share the rent on an apartment in Oberlin and, you know, he could come on weekends and stuff."

"That's. Okay, thanks for trusting me with that. The thing about the essays though –"

Casey's kept on squirming, twisting his hands, looking down, not looking at all comfortable in the comfy chair. At the same time smiling shyly like, well, like a teenager in love; it's sweet, really. But at that moment gets that fierce look again, aims it straight at Tom and says, "Look, you're gay, right?"

Of course they know. Of course the students and the teachers each have their gossip circuits, and even for somebody less plugged in like Casey Connor it was never all that difficult to figure out. But they never say it to his face.

"Casey, I – that's a, a personal –"

"Fine, I get it, don't ask don't tell. If you can stand working in a place where you won't tell anyone who you are because you know they hate you and they'd probably fire you if you were out in the open that's your thing, whatever. But it's like. So, you're a homosexual, and I'm... well, I'm that too. But I'm also an alien killer. I mean, that's part of who I am now. And I can't handle being in the closet like you."

"So be a gay rights activist, fine!" he finally shouts. "Write your essay about coming out. Write about raising consciousness in your high school by having sex with a football player. You can tell colleges that now. Hell, Oberlin will eat it up! But for God's sake, don't tell them you killed the alien queen. I'm telling you, they'll either think you're insane or you're not taking them seriously. And admissions committees want you to take them seriously. Do you get that, Casey?"

Casey's gone still again, quiet and confident. There's a flick of his eyes toward the window and a slight smile, but then he looks at Tom steadily and says, "Yeah, I understand. But the only way I can take these people seriously is to tell them the truth. I appreciate your wanting to help, Mr. Malinski, but I don't need your advice on this one. I've figured out for myself what I need to do." After a long pause in which Tom can think of absolutely nothing to say, he asks, "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"I guess not, Casey, if your decision. Thanks for taking the time to listen to me anyway."

"Of course. And thanks again for the recs." His wide smile again, and then he picks up his backpack, shakes Tom's hand quickly and rushes out.

A minute later, before Tom's gotten around to putting away his file, or even moving, he catches sight of him through the window, out on the sidewalk with his boyfriend. The winter sun is pale but Casey's smile has its own glow. Any admissions committee that doesn't want this kid is crazy, Tom decides, no matter what he writes in his essay. Then Casey and Zeke kiss, and Tom knows that Casey knows he can see.

There's a rule about public displays of affection on school grounds. Tom decides he's done caring about the rules.