fic: In The Game - Chapter Eight, PG-13 [John/Teyla]
TITLE: In The Game - Chapter Eight
SUMMARY: John starts making up with people. It's not an easy task.
CATEGORY: high school AU, drama,
RATING: PG-13
WORDCOUNT: 3,899
NOTES: Still going. I'm going to try to get this story done by the end of October, just to finish the damn thing. it's been lying around too long and needs completing! One note, in Wrong Kind Of Guy, I know that I said that Jeannie McKay was college age while Rodney's still in high school. At the time, McKay And Mrs. Miller hadn't aired so I wasn't aware otherwise. So Jeannie McKay's age has taken a six-year nosedive between the last story and this one. Details, details.
Chapter Seven - Friday Night Fights
The Home Game
Shermer High's parking lot was always busy around Saturday lunchtime during football season as players left Saturday morning training for their afternoon activities, and members of the track-and-field and athletics team arrived for their afternoon training.
"You do not have to do this," Teyla said as John fell into step beside her.
After Bates' accusation last night, John felt a little awkward approaching Teyla. He'd avoided her on the bus ride back, and during the visit to the restaurant, choosing to sit with Mara and her friends from the cheer squad. Ford's mom had given her a lift home, and Teyla had seemed relieved to be away from John.
In the day's crisp light, and after four hours of football training, John had worked out how he was going to deal with this. Now he just had to persuade Teyla to fall in with it.
Still, it was tempting to take her at her word, but practicality - and maybe a bit of stubbornness - forced him to say. "And how are you going to get to Rodney's?"
She shrugged and re-shouldered her bag again, glancing around the busy parking lot of the school. "I can get a lift off someone."
"You mean, someone who isn't going to Rodney's?" John blew out a long breath and touched her arm to make her stop and look at him. "Teyla. Look, nothing's changed--"
The look she gave him was scornful.
"Nothing's changed - not really. Sure, Bates shot his mouth off--" He paused. Teyla was nearly vibrating with fury.
"Did you hear what he said? What he implied of me?"
Hot embarrassment swept over him, but John wasn't going to let it deter him. "What are you going to do about it, Teyla? What's going to make any difference in what he said? Yeah, we could avoid each other, but people would still think we were..." John paused and wondered if it was possible for him to be any more embarrassed. "People are going to believe what they want to believe. Like the stuff about me and Liz - people want to believe it, so they're just going to."
Teyla was still angry. "And so I should just ignore what is being said of me?"
"Who's saying it about you? Bates and his friends?" John snorted. "The girls who really do give blowjobs to keep a boyfriend? Coach came down on your side, Teyla. They're not about to jeopardise their whole season just to spread something they know isn't true anyway."
She turned away to look at the busy parking lot, and John waited for her to think it through. He couldn't push her - it would only make things worse - but she had to see it his way. This wasn't going to go away, and the only thing they could do was ignore it and just be the way they'd always been.
"You believe that ignoring Bates will help?"
"Yes," John said. "I do. Look, Harrison, PJ and the others still think you're okay. If you hadn't hit Bates last night, one of them probably would have." Or John might have taken a swing himself. "They're not going to talk about it." At least, not anywhere Teyla or John would hear.
"You cannot know that."
"And you can't know that staying away from me isn't going to get more people gossiping anyway."
Teyla considered it. "I do not like it."
"I don't like the rumours either," John told her. "But we're going to have to live with them. And I'm not going to skulk around pretending we're not friends just because someone started spreading rumours that we're sleeping together."
Colour hit her cheeks - a faint burnishing of scarlet on her tanned skin.
"Besides," he added with all the persuasion he could manage. "If we're both going to Rodney's to study, then it makes sense for us to go together, doesn't it?"
"Do the rumours not bother you?"
John stuck his hands in his pocket. "You saw me yesterday afternoon." As it was, he'd been lucky that only Liz and Teyla had seen his brief spell of temper. Both girls knew him and knew how to deal with him.
Her nod was slow, and matched her sigh. "I suppose it is not all that different." The answer was dragged from her with bad grace. "All right."
And without a further word, she started off in the direction of John's car, leaving him to catch up, bemused with the speed of her change of heart. "All right?"
She shrugged. "As you said, there is nothing I can do about the rumours. And you are convenient to my purposes today."
John stopped in his tracks, unable to believe that she'd just said that so bloodlessly. Then she turned back to look at him and he saw her smug little smile. Minx.
"Come on," he said, walking past her to the car. "We've still got to get cleaned up before we turn up at Rodney's."
If there was a downside to driving Teyla around to Rodney's, it was that John had to stop at home first and clean up. He hadn't brought spare clothing along, and John wasn't about to turn up at Rodney's in a state where the other boy could sneer about 'jock hygiene'.
However, stopping at home meant meeting John's parents.
And that was the part that John was most worried about.
If he was lucky, his parents might be out. Or his mom might not be up. Or his dad might be satisfied with a grunt from the couch.
John could hope, anyway.
He pulled up behind his dad's car. "We shouldn't be too long," he said as they got their stuff out of the trunk.
His mom was pleasantly voluble as John and Teyla entered the kitchen. "John! I thought you'd be out all day. How was the game?"
John had been prepared to cringe the instant she opened her mouth. Relief spread through him, making him limp. "Uh, this morning was just practice, Mom. And we're just about to head off to Rodney's now. After we shower."
She nodded, but her eyes flickered to Teyla. "And this is...?"
Teyla smiled and nodded. "Teyla Emmagen, Mrs. Sheppard." When his mom got a speculative look in her eyes, she qualified, "I'm on John's football team."
"Didn't know they allowed girls on the varsity team," came the cool, cutting tones from the room behind that made John want to flinch.
"Usually, they do not," Teyla allowed, turning to face John's dad, although if she'd been easily polite before, she was being stiffly polite now.
"Teyla's one of our best players, sir," said John, wishing he'd given in to his first instinct and hustled her off to the bathroom before his parents had time to open their mouths. This wasn't going to go down well, he just knew it.
Jerry Sheppard summed up Teyla in a single glance, from her sweat-damped hair down to her dirty joggers. "Doesn't look like a footballer."
"Jerry." For a moment, John's mom sounded a little like her old self - with the restraining note in it that John hadn't heard in years. "What a thing to say! I'm sure Teyla's a fine player - she's been on the team all this time, and they're in the districts..."
"Yeah," John interrupted. "We had a game last night." Which neither of you could be bothered attending. "And we're headed over to Rodney's now. So, I'm just going to show Teyla your ensuite so we can shower and get moving."
"Oh, I can show her the ensuite, Johnny." John mentally cringed, although Teyla did nothing more than glance briefly at him in response to his mom's nickname for him. "Now, do you need a towel?"
"I have one of my own, Mrs. Sheppard." Teyla sounded carefully polite as John's mom led her away, and John watched, trying to conceal his anxiety from the man whose dark eyes watched him, hawklike, and who wasn't about to let his son off the hook just because the guest had left.
"So, have you screwed around with her yet?"
The question was casual and insulting - the way so many of Jerry Sheppard's comments were. John stiffened. "She's one of my team-mates."
"She's also your type." His dad bared his teeth in something that wasn't quite a grin. "Pretty, exotic, doesn't seem the clingy type..."
"Teyla's a friend," he said firmly, refusing to rise to the bait as he shifted his bag on his shoulder and began to go through to his room.
He wasn't fast enough to elude his mom returning through the door. "Well, she seems lovely," his mom said, brightly earnest as she patted his shoulder. "Such a nice girl."
John heard the question in the statement. Are you dating?
"All that alcohol's addled your brains, Marilyn," sneered his father. "She could be a complete bitch and it wouldn't matter. John always had an eye for a pretty face."
The barb struck a little too close to home after Bates' slam last night. "Coach Caldwell cleared her to play on the team," he defended. "She's our best wide receiver - scored the final goal at the Homecoming game..."
"I thought that was you."
"I threw it, she caught it."
"Teamwork?"
"Yes." John refused to be drawn.
"Teyla Emmagen... Teyla... It's a very pretty name." His mom opened the cupboard, and her hand paused over a glass before reaching for a mug. "What kind of surname is Emmagen?"
John shrugged. He'd never thought about it. It was pretty obvious Teyla had some mixed blood in her background, but he'd never asked. It was all secondary to her personality and football skills anyway. "What kind of surname is Sheppard?"
"Well, she seems like a nice girl," said his mom again. "Very polite."
"And politeness counts for so much in this family."
The mug was slammed down on the table. "Well, at least I addressed her to her face, Jerry! You couldn't even be bothered to address the first girl our son brings home in months! It's no wonder he's ashamed to bring his friends around!" She started for the alcohol cabinet before she remembered where she was going and turned shamefacedly to get a teabag out of the pantry.
John felt himself tense as his father sneered, "Ashamed of us? I'm not the one who's reaching for the bottle at midday!"
His mom was crimson. "At least I was willing to give the girl the benefit of the doubt," she said with a brittle edge to her voice. "She doesn't have to look like a footballer to play football." She glanced at John, almost begging for his reassurance. "It's so nice to meet your friends, Johnny - you never bring them home anymore."
"We're usually at Rodney's house or Liz's these days. In fact," he said, with a pointed glance at the clock. "We're already late." He shouldered his bag again and headed for his room. "I'm getting a shower."
"So you won't be staying for lunch?"
"No," he called back. "We'll have something to eat at Rodney's." It would get them out of here that much faster. He grabbed for some clean clothes and paused in the corridor as he heard his parents snapping at each other, not bothering to moderate their tones.
This had been a really bad idea.
His mom was right. John hadn't brought his friends around for years now. Not since he started high school and realised that his mom spent most of her day in a gently alcoholic haze, and his dad spent most of his day sneering at his mom.
As he showered, he reflected that it hadn't always been like this - or maybe he'd just been too young to notice. But these days, it was just easier to stay out of the house and not bring his friends around.
Especially not friends who were faster at taking showers than he was.
He heard the voices as he opened the bathroom door, his towel wrapped around his hips. Down the corridor floated his mom's too-bright voice asking too-curious questions, with Teyla's calm answers filling the silences.
John set a new record for getting dressed and out of the room with his bags, panic ripping through him as the thought about all the things that could go bad with this particular interrogation.
Teyla seemed unruffled by the interested questions being asked by John's mom. She glanced up as John entered the kitchen.
"Sorry, Teyla," he wondered if there was enough 'sorry' in the universe for subjecting her to his mom's conversation. Thankfully, his dad was nowhere to be seen. "Ready to go?"
"Yes." She rose to her feet. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sheppard."
"You don't want some lunch? There's some leftover chicken in the fridge..." His mom sounded desperately pathetic, and John felt a moment's pity for her. It wasn't easy being stuck in the house with his dad all day - one reason why John spent his time elsewhere as much as possible.
"Mom, I said we'd have lunch at Rodney's..." Across the room, he saw Teyla open her mouth, then close it again. "It's fine."
"And you won't be home for dinner?"
"We've got the game this afternoon, then the Hallowe'en party at the Weirs." John grabbed for Teyla's hand, determined to pull her out of the house if necessary. "We're late. Bye, mom."
Outside, the air was crisp and cool with autumn's bite, unwarmed by the sun's thin rays. John took a deep breath and let it out slowly as they walked down the path to the street. "Sorry about that."
Teyla took back her hand as soon as the door closed behind them, but she waited until they had stored their gear in the car, grabbed their school bags and were halfway across the road on their way to Rodney's before speaking. "Your mother did not seem so bad," she said.
"Try living with her and my dad." Oh, god, his dad. "He didn't talk to you, did he?" Because John could just imagine what his father would have said - if he'd deigned to say anything at all.
"He did not." She glanced at him, sunlight flashing off the dark of her hair. "You did not tell them that we went to Homecoming together."
John shrugged. "They didn't ask. Mostly, they don't notice when I come and go. And it's better that way."
Teyla looked like she wanted to say something, but when she caught his sidelong glance, she closed her mouth.
"You've done that twice already?"
"Sorry?"
"Opened your mouth, then shut it again." They'd reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street, and John stopped. "Twice. Just say it."
Teyla stepped around him and kept walking. "It is nothing."
"It's gotta be something!"
"It is nothing," she repeated as John ran to catch up.
"You did it twice."
"And twice nothing is still nothing. Have you yet spoken to Ronon?"
"What? Don't change the topic!"
Teyla stopped and turned to face him. "Your mother would have had you stay for lunch. She knows almost nothing of your games or your schooling - she did not know we went to Homecoming together. But she seemed interested in knowing more about you - yet you do not tell her."
Resentment burned hot in his belly and his chest at her criticism. "You don't know anything about my family."
Her expression tightened in annoyance at his words. "You are right: I do not," Teyla agreed. "They are not my parents and I do not have to live with them. But your mother would know more of you and seems nice..."
"That's only because she hasn't hit the bottle yet," John retorted softly. "She's usually drunk by now."
Teyla paused, then shrugged and began heading up the McKay's driveway.
John fell in beside her, grumpy now. "You don't know how it is," he said after a moment.
She didn't respond, although he caught her gaze a second before it slid away, back to the pavement.
He shouldn't ask. He knew it wasn't going to be something he liked, but he had to know. "So what was the thing about talking to Ronon?" The look Teyla gave him suggested he was being tolerated and nothing more. "God, don't sulk, Teyla. Look, you've already had your say when it comes to my family, you might as well just get this thing about Ronon out."
"Have you spoken with Ronon yet?"
John scowled. "Look, I can't talk to him if he's not around. And he hasn't been at school for the last couple of days. What do you want me to do? Hunt him down and confront him?" The thought of having to face Ronon - the thought of the rumours going around about him and Liz - made him grumpy. "Why are you taking such an active interest in my life anyway?"
Teyla took a deep breath. "Earlier, you threw it in my face that we are friends. Likewise, Elizabeth and Ronon are friends. Taking an interest is what friends do."
"All right, then, let's take an interest in your love life," John said pointedly. "Starting with you and Michael Kenmore."
Teyla's mouth opened, then shut again. "That was not the topic--"
"Fine, I'm making it the topic. So, what was that about friends taking an interest?" She didn't say anything, but started off towards the front door of Rodney's house. "See? You don't like me asking questions about your life..."
She stopped halfway up the path, so sharply that John nearly ran into her. "You have no interest in my relationship with Michael, John. The only purpose of your question was to put me in the spot."
John huffed. "Look, it's like I said. I'd talk to Ronon, but I haven't seen him. And I can't help what other people are saying. I can't even help what Liz thinks of me."
"No," Teyla agreed. "You cannot." She sighed. "Never mind, John."
They trudged up the path to the McKays' front door.
John rapped the knocker sharply on the door. Rodney's dad was obsessive about house security, and the door was always locked, even when there were people home.
"I'll get it!" Came the squeal from inside, followed by Rodney's deeper whine of complaint.
Footsteps thumped behind the door, and the door was abruptly yanked open, revealing a girl whose wealth of blonde curls crowned a small, oval face. "Teyla! John! I see you've come for another thrilling session of study with my brother. But don't worry. He's in a good mood today."
"I was until you answered the door," Rodney told his little sister. "Now bust off, brat."
Jeannie McKay rolled her eyes. "You're such a grump, Mere!"
"And I revel in it," said Rodney without a trace of sympathy.
"Hello, Jeannie," Teyla said as she stepped into the house. "Hello, Rodney."
"Hey, brat," John said more familiarly, reaching out to ruffle Jeannie's curls.
She screeched and flinched away. "John! You're as bad as Mere!"
He grinned as he shut the door behind him. He didn't have siblings, but Jeannie was an acceptable not-sister. Annoying and fun to annoy, intelligent enough to keep up with him, and, best of all, he didn't have to live with her the way Rodney did, so he got all the perks of a bratty sister, and few of the drawbacks.
"Mom left a pan of macaroni-and-cheese for lunch," Rodney said.
"Leave some for me!"
"You'll have to get in fast," John called down the corridor where Jeannie had vanished. "Teyla's a pig when it comes to mac-and-cheese. Ow!" Fast as a snake, Teyla's hand had whipped out and whacked him in the chest.
"He only says that to cover his own greed," she retorted as she sat down at the table and began pulling out her books. "Your mother's macaroni-and-cheese would be wonderful, Rodney."
"Oh, well, you're getting it yourself. I wasn't put on Earth to be your servant."
Teyla rolled her eyes but got up and fetched herself lunch, serving some out for John, but - very pointedly -none for Rodney. In return, John got her a drink from the fridge and sat it in front of her. Rodney rolled his eyes at them. "I think I need an insulin injection." And he got his own drink and lunch.
After a few minutes, John turned on the television in the next room and changed channels to the game between Arizona State and UCLA for some background noise.
They ate lunch. Jeannie came in and got her lunch portion and pestered them. They studied. Rodney chattered on while John and Teyla worked. John went out to watch the game and Teyla and Jeannie joined him until Rodney complained that nobody was studying and what was the point of a study group if nobody was going to study?
But when Teyla went to use the bathroom and was audibly waylaid by Jeannie on the way back, Rodney brought up Ronon, much to John's dismay.
"He was supposed to come this afternoon, you know."
"Hm?" John was working through a series of chemical equations that were making no sense at all.
"Ronon. Was supposed to be coming today."
He didn't look up from his work. "You're tutoring him, too?"
"I figured he'd be around at Liz's - he usually is these days - except they're fighting and apparently you're dating her-- Joke! Joke!" Rodney held up his hands at the intensity of John's glare. "Can anyone say 'oversensitive'?"
"Since both you and Teyla have brought it up, I think I can be oversensitive about this," he said, turning back to the page of the book.
"Teyla brought it up? Interesting. Zelenka said he saw her in town with Kenmore the other week. Do you know if he's coming to the party tonight as well? Because that could get really uncomfortable. And worse if Ronon turns up."
John grimaced. "I don't know if Kenmore's coming with her tonight." Liz wasn't friendly with the football set, so it wasn't likely that there'd be too many of them tonight, but it would still cause a stir for Teyla to turn up with Kenmore as a date. And, like Rodney said, if Ronon turned up, then things would probably get nasty.
He was more worried about things getting nasty between him and Ronon than things getting nasty between Ronon and Kenmore.
Although he wouldn't mind getting another fist in Kenmore's gut if the opportunity presented itself.
John sighed to himself. He really did have to confront Ronon about the rumours, and the party was as good a time as any - the more people, the less likely Ronon would hit him. And Megan and Michael would be there to act as peacekeepers if it got bad. Maybe.
Of course, if Ronon attacked him, then there'd be another rumour running around school on Monday.
Just what he didn't need.
On the other hand, he'd rather Ronon swung a punch at a private party than in one of the corridors at school.
He glared at the chemistry textbook, as though it was the cause of his woes.
It looked like he was going to Liz's Halloween party after all.
- tbc -
SUMMARY: John starts making up with people. It's not an easy task.
CATEGORY: high school AU, drama,
RATING: PG-13
WORDCOUNT: 3,899
NOTES: Still going. I'm going to try to get this story done by the end of October, just to finish the damn thing. it's been lying around too long and needs completing! One note, in Wrong Kind Of Guy, I know that I said that Jeannie McKay was college age while Rodney's still in high school. At the time, McKay And Mrs. Miller hadn't aired so I wasn't aware otherwise. So Jeannie McKay's age has taken a six-year nosedive between the last story and this one. Details, details.
Chapter Seven - Friday Night Fights
The Home Game
Shermer High's parking lot was always busy around Saturday lunchtime during football season as players left Saturday morning training for their afternoon activities, and members of the track-and-field and athletics team arrived for their afternoon training.
"You do not have to do this," Teyla said as John fell into step beside her.
After Bates' accusation last night, John felt a little awkward approaching Teyla. He'd avoided her on the bus ride back, and during the visit to the restaurant, choosing to sit with Mara and her friends from the cheer squad. Ford's mom had given her a lift home, and Teyla had seemed relieved to be away from John.
In the day's crisp light, and after four hours of football training, John had worked out how he was going to deal with this. Now he just had to persuade Teyla to fall in with it.
Still, it was tempting to take her at her word, but practicality - and maybe a bit of stubbornness - forced him to say. "And how are you going to get to Rodney's?"
She shrugged and re-shouldered her bag again, glancing around the busy parking lot of the school. "I can get a lift off someone."
"You mean, someone who isn't going to Rodney's?" John blew out a long breath and touched her arm to make her stop and look at him. "Teyla. Look, nothing's changed--"
The look she gave him was scornful.
"Nothing's changed - not really. Sure, Bates shot his mouth off--" He paused. Teyla was nearly vibrating with fury.
"Did you hear what he said? What he implied of me?"
Hot embarrassment swept over him, but John wasn't going to let it deter him. "What are you going to do about it, Teyla? What's going to make any difference in what he said? Yeah, we could avoid each other, but people would still think we were..." John paused and wondered if it was possible for him to be any more embarrassed. "People are going to believe what they want to believe. Like the stuff about me and Liz - people want to believe it, so they're just going to."
Teyla was still angry. "And so I should just ignore what is being said of me?"
"Who's saying it about you? Bates and his friends?" John snorted. "The girls who really do give blowjobs to keep a boyfriend? Coach came down on your side, Teyla. They're not about to jeopardise their whole season just to spread something they know isn't true anyway."
She turned away to look at the busy parking lot, and John waited for her to think it through. He couldn't push her - it would only make things worse - but she had to see it his way. This wasn't going to go away, and the only thing they could do was ignore it and just be the way they'd always been.
"You believe that ignoring Bates will help?"
"Yes," John said. "I do. Look, Harrison, PJ and the others still think you're okay. If you hadn't hit Bates last night, one of them probably would have." Or John might have taken a swing himself. "They're not going to talk about it." At least, not anywhere Teyla or John would hear.
"You cannot know that."
"And you can't know that staying away from me isn't going to get more people gossiping anyway."
Teyla considered it. "I do not like it."
"I don't like the rumours either," John told her. "But we're going to have to live with them. And I'm not going to skulk around pretending we're not friends just because someone started spreading rumours that we're sleeping together."
Colour hit her cheeks - a faint burnishing of scarlet on her tanned skin.
"Besides," he added with all the persuasion he could manage. "If we're both going to Rodney's to study, then it makes sense for us to go together, doesn't it?"
"Do the rumours not bother you?"
John stuck his hands in his pocket. "You saw me yesterday afternoon." As it was, he'd been lucky that only Liz and Teyla had seen his brief spell of temper. Both girls knew him and knew how to deal with him.
Her nod was slow, and matched her sigh. "I suppose it is not all that different." The answer was dragged from her with bad grace. "All right."
And without a further word, she started off in the direction of John's car, leaving him to catch up, bemused with the speed of her change of heart. "All right?"
She shrugged. "As you said, there is nothing I can do about the rumours. And you are convenient to my purposes today."
John stopped in his tracks, unable to believe that she'd just said that so bloodlessly. Then she turned back to look at him and he saw her smug little smile. Minx.
"Come on," he said, walking past her to the car. "We've still got to get cleaned up before we turn up at Rodney's."
If there was a downside to driving Teyla around to Rodney's, it was that John had to stop at home first and clean up. He hadn't brought spare clothing along, and John wasn't about to turn up at Rodney's in a state where the other boy could sneer about 'jock hygiene'.
However, stopping at home meant meeting John's parents.
And that was the part that John was most worried about.
If he was lucky, his parents might be out. Or his mom might not be up. Or his dad might be satisfied with a grunt from the couch.
John could hope, anyway.
He pulled up behind his dad's car. "We shouldn't be too long," he said as they got their stuff out of the trunk.
His mom was pleasantly voluble as John and Teyla entered the kitchen. "John! I thought you'd be out all day. How was the game?"
John had been prepared to cringe the instant she opened her mouth. Relief spread through him, making him limp. "Uh, this morning was just practice, Mom. And we're just about to head off to Rodney's now. After we shower."
She nodded, but her eyes flickered to Teyla. "And this is...?"
Teyla smiled and nodded. "Teyla Emmagen, Mrs. Sheppard." When his mom got a speculative look in her eyes, she qualified, "I'm on John's football team."
"Didn't know they allowed girls on the varsity team," came the cool, cutting tones from the room behind that made John want to flinch.
"Usually, they do not," Teyla allowed, turning to face John's dad, although if she'd been easily polite before, she was being stiffly polite now.
"Teyla's one of our best players, sir," said John, wishing he'd given in to his first instinct and hustled her off to the bathroom before his parents had time to open their mouths. This wasn't going to go down well, he just knew it.
Jerry Sheppard summed up Teyla in a single glance, from her sweat-damped hair down to her dirty joggers. "Doesn't look like a footballer."
"Jerry." For a moment, John's mom sounded a little like her old self - with the restraining note in it that John hadn't heard in years. "What a thing to say! I'm sure Teyla's a fine player - she's been on the team all this time, and they're in the districts..."
"Yeah," John interrupted. "We had a game last night." Which neither of you could be bothered attending. "And we're headed over to Rodney's now. So, I'm just going to show Teyla your ensuite so we can shower and get moving."
"Oh, I can show her the ensuite, Johnny." John mentally cringed, although Teyla did nothing more than glance briefly at him in response to his mom's nickname for him. "Now, do you need a towel?"
"I have one of my own, Mrs. Sheppard." Teyla sounded carefully polite as John's mom led her away, and John watched, trying to conceal his anxiety from the man whose dark eyes watched him, hawklike, and who wasn't about to let his son off the hook just because the guest had left.
"So, have you screwed around with her yet?"
The question was casual and insulting - the way so many of Jerry Sheppard's comments were. John stiffened. "She's one of my team-mates."
"She's also your type." His dad bared his teeth in something that wasn't quite a grin. "Pretty, exotic, doesn't seem the clingy type..."
"Teyla's a friend," he said firmly, refusing to rise to the bait as he shifted his bag on his shoulder and began to go through to his room.
He wasn't fast enough to elude his mom returning through the door. "Well, she seems lovely," his mom said, brightly earnest as she patted his shoulder. "Such a nice girl."
John heard the question in the statement. Are you dating?
"All that alcohol's addled your brains, Marilyn," sneered his father. "She could be a complete bitch and it wouldn't matter. John always had an eye for a pretty face."
The barb struck a little too close to home after Bates' slam last night. "Coach Caldwell cleared her to play on the team," he defended. "She's our best wide receiver - scored the final goal at the Homecoming game..."
"I thought that was you."
"I threw it, she caught it."
"Teamwork?"
"Yes." John refused to be drawn.
"Teyla Emmagen... Teyla... It's a very pretty name." His mom opened the cupboard, and her hand paused over a glass before reaching for a mug. "What kind of surname is Emmagen?"
John shrugged. He'd never thought about it. It was pretty obvious Teyla had some mixed blood in her background, but he'd never asked. It was all secondary to her personality and football skills anyway. "What kind of surname is Sheppard?"
"Well, she seems like a nice girl," said his mom again. "Very polite."
"And politeness counts for so much in this family."
The mug was slammed down on the table. "Well, at least I addressed her to her face, Jerry! You couldn't even be bothered to address the first girl our son brings home in months! It's no wonder he's ashamed to bring his friends around!" She started for the alcohol cabinet before she remembered where she was going and turned shamefacedly to get a teabag out of the pantry.
John felt himself tense as his father sneered, "Ashamed of us? I'm not the one who's reaching for the bottle at midday!"
His mom was crimson. "At least I was willing to give the girl the benefit of the doubt," she said with a brittle edge to her voice. "She doesn't have to look like a footballer to play football." She glanced at John, almost begging for his reassurance. "It's so nice to meet your friends, Johnny - you never bring them home anymore."
"We're usually at Rodney's house or Liz's these days. In fact," he said, with a pointed glance at the clock. "We're already late." He shouldered his bag again and headed for his room. "I'm getting a shower."
"So you won't be staying for lunch?"
"No," he called back. "We'll have something to eat at Rodney's." It would get them out of here that much faster. He grabbed for some clean clothes and paused in the corridor as he heard his parents snapping at each other, not bothering to moderate their tones.
This had been a really bad idea.
His mom was right. John hadn't brought his friends around for years now. Not since he started high school and realised that his mom spent most of her day in a gently alcoholic haze, and his dad spent most of his day sneering at his mom.
As he showered, he reflected that it hadn't always been like this - or maybe he'd just been too young to notice. But these days, it was just easier to stay out of the house and not bring his friends around.
Especially not friends who were faster at taking showers than he was.
He heard the voices as he opened the bathroom door, his towel wrapped around his hips. Down the corridor floated his mom's too-bright voice asking too-curious questions, with Teyla's calm answers filling the silences.
John set a new record for getting dressed and out of the room with his bags, panic ripping through him as the thought about all the things that could go bad with this particular interrogation.
Teyla seemed unruffled by the interested questions being asked by John's mom. She glanced up as John entered the kitchen.
"Sorry, Teyla," he wondered if there was enough 'sorry' in the universe for subjecting her to his mom's conversation. Thankfully, his dad was nowhere to be seen. "Ready to go?"
"Yes." She rose to her feet. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sheppard."
"You don't want some lunch? There's some leftover chicken in the fridge..." His mom sounded desperately pathetic, and John felt a moment's pity for her. It wasn't easy being stuck in the house with his dad all day - one reason why John spent his time elsewhere as much as possible.
"Mom, I said we'd have lunch at Rodney's..." Across the room, he saw Teyla open her mouth, then close it again. "It's fine."
"And you won't be home for dinner?"
"We've got the game this afternoon, then the Hallowe'en party at the Weirs." John grabbed for Teyla's hand, determined to pull her out of the house if necessary. "We're late. Bye, mom."
Outside, the air was crisp and cool with autumn's bite, unwarmed by the sun's thin rays. John took a deep breath and let it out slowly as they walked down the path to the street. "Sorry about that."
Teyla took back her hand as soon as the door closed behind them, but she waited until they had stored their gear in the car, grabbed their school bags and were halfway across the road on their way to Rodney's before speaking. "Your mother did not seem so bad," she said.
"Try living with her and my dad." Oh, god, his dad. "He didn't talk to you, did he?" Because John could just imagine what his father would have said - if he'd deigned to say anything at all.
"He did not." She glanced at him, sunlight flashing off the dark of her hair. "You did not tell them that we went to Homecoming together."
John shrugged. "They didn't ask. Mostly, they don't notice when I come and go. And it's better that way."
Teyla looked like she wanted to say something, but when she caught his sidelong glance, she closed her mouth.
"You've done that twice already?"
"Sorry?"
"Opened your mouth, then shut it again." They'd reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street, and John stopped. "Twice. Just say it."
Teyla stepped around him and kept walking. "It is nothing."
"It's gotta be something!"
"It is nothing," she repeated as John ran to catch up.
"You did it twice."
"And twice nothing is still nothing. Have you yet spoken to Ronon?"
"What? Don't change the topic!"
Teyla stopped and turned to face him. "Your mother would have had you stay for lunch. She knows almost nothing of your games or your schooling - she did not know we went to Homecoming together. But she seemed interested in knowing more about you - yet you do not tell her."
Resentment burned hot in his belly and his chest at her criticism. "You don't know anything about my family."
Her expression tightened in annoyance at his words. "You are right: I do not," Teyla agreed. "They are not my parents and I do not have to live with them. But your mother would know more of you and seems nice..."
"That's only because she hasn't hit the bottle yet," John retorted softly. "She's usually drunk by now."
Teyla paused, then shrugged and began heading up the McKay's driveway.
John fell in beside her, grumpy now. "You don't know how it is," he said after a moment.
She didn't respond, although he caught her gaze a second before it slid away, back to the pavement.
He shouldn't ask. He knew it wasn't going to be something he liked, but he had to know. "So what was the thing about talking to Ronon?" The look Teyla gave him suggested he was being tolerated and nothing more. "God, don't sulk, Teyla. Look, you've already had your say when it comes to my family, you might as well just get this thing about Ronon out."
"Have you spoken with Ronon yet?"
John scowled. "Look, I can't talk to him if he's not around. And he hasn't been at school for the last couple of days. What do you want me to do? Hunt him down and confront him?" The thought of having to face Ronon - the thought of the rumours going around about him and Liz - made him grumpy. "Why are you taking such an active interest in my life anyway?"
Teyla took a deep breath. "Earlier, you threw it in my face that we are friends. Likewise, Elizabeth and Ronon are friends. Taking an interest is what friends do."
"All right, then, let's take an interest in your love life," John said pointedly. "Starting with you and Michael Kenmore."
Teyla's mouth opened, then shut again. "That was not the topic--"
"Fine, I'm making it the topic. So, what was that about friends taking an interest?" She didn't say anything, but started off towards the front door of Rodney's house. "See? You don't like me asking questions about your life..."
She stopped halfway up the path, so sharply that John nearly ran into her. "You have no interest in my relationship with Michael, John. The only purpose of your question was to put me in the spot."
John huffed. "Look, it's like I said. I'd talk to Ronon, but I haven't seen him. And I can't help what other people are saying. I can't even help what Liz thinks of me."
"No," Teyla agreed. "You cannot." She sighed. "Never mind, John."
They trudged up the path to the McKays' front door.
John rapped the knocker sharply on the door. Rodney's dad was obsessive about house security, and the door was always locked, even when there were people home.
"I'll get it!" Came the squeal from inside, followed by Rodney's deeper whine of complaint.
Footsteps thumped behind the door, and the door was abruptly yanked open, revealing a girl whose wealth of blonde curls crowned a small, oval face. "Teyla! John! I see you've come for another thrilling session of study with my brother. But don't worry. He's in a good mood today."
"I was until you answered the door," Rodney told his little sister. "Now bust off, brat."
Jeannie McKay rolled her eyes. "You're such a grump, Mere!"
"And I revel in it," said Rodney without a trace of sympathy.
"Hello, Jeannie," Teyla said as she stepped into the house. "Hello, Rodney."
"Hey, brat," John said more familiarly, reaching out to ruffle Jeannie's curls.
She screeched and flinched away. "John! You're as bad as Mere!"
He grinned as he shut the door behind him. He didn't have siblings, but Jeannie was an acceptable not-sister. Annoying and fun to annoy, intelligent enough to keep up with him, and, best of all, he didn't have to live with her the way Rodney did, so he got all the perks of a bratty sister, and few of the drawbacks.
"Mom left a pan of macaroni-and-cheese for lunch," Rodney said.
"Leave some for me!"
"You'll have to get in fast," John called down the corridor where Jeannie had vanished. "Teyla's a pig when it comes to mac-and-cheese. Ow!" Fast as a snake, Teyla's hand had whipped out and whacked him in the chest.
"He only says that to cover his own greed," she retorted as she sat down at the table and began pulling out her books. "Your mother's macaroni-and-cheese would be wonderful, Rodney."
"Oh, well, you're getting it yourself. I wasn't put on Earth to be your servant."
Teyla rolled her eyes but got up and fetched herself lunch, serving some out for John, but - very pointedly -none for Rodney. In return, John got her a drink from the fridge and sat it in front of her. Rodney rolled his eyes at them. "I think I need an insulin injection." And he got his own drink and lunch.
After a few minutes, John turned on the television in the next room and changed channels to the game between Arizona State and UCLA for some background noise.
They ate lunch. Jeannie came in and got her lunch portion and pestered them. They studied. Rodney chattered on while John and Teyla worked. John went out to watch the game and Teyla and Jeannie joined him until Rodney complained that nobody was studying and what was the point of a study group if nobody was going to study?
But when Teyla went to use the bathroom and was audibly waylaid by Jeannie on the way back, Rodney brought up Ronon, much to John's dismay.
"He was supposed to come this afternoon, you know."
"Hm?" John was working through a series of chemical equations that were making no sense at all.
"Ronon. Was supposed to be coming today."
He didn't look up from his work. "You're tutoring him, too?"
"I figured he'd be around at Liz's - he usually is these days - except they're fighting and apparently you're dating her-- Joke! Joke!" Rodney held up his hands at the intensity of John's glare. "Can anyone say 'oversensitive'?"
"Since both you and Teyla have brought it up, I think I can be oversensitive about this," he said, turning back to the page of the book.
"Teyla brought it up? Interesting. Zelenka said he saw her in town with Kenmore the other week. Do you know if he's coming to the party tonight as well? Because that could get really uncomfortable. And worse if Ronon turns up."
John grimaced. "I don't know if Kenmore's coming with her tonight." Liz wasn't friendly with the football set, so it wasn't likely that there'd be too many of them tonight, but it would still cause a stir for Teyla to turn up with Kenmore as a date. And, like Rodney said, if Ronon turned up, then things would probably get nasty.
He was more worried about things getting nasty between him and Ronon than things getting nasty between Ronon and Kenmore.
Although he wouldn't mind getting another fist in Kenmore's gut if the opportunity presented itself.
John sighed to himself. He really did have to confront Ronon about the rumours, and the party was as good a time as any - the more people, the less likely Ronon would hit him. And Megan and Michael would be there to act as peacekeepers if it got bad. Maybe.
Of course, if Ronon attacked him, then there'd be another rumour running around school on Monday.
Just what he didn't need.
On the other hand, he'd rather Ronon swung a punch at a private party than in one of the corridors at school.
He glared at the chemistry textbook, as though it was the cause of his woes.
It looked like he was going to Liz's Halloween party after all.
- tbc -