Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Lindsay & Tony Bloody Southon - Pt 1
'There's a new kid in school.'
Wrong! Lindsay shook his head and smiled ruefully to himself. 'There's a hundred new kids in school.'
He really had to stop being so literal and pedantic. "Nitpicking", his mother called it. Of course there were a hundred new kids - new kids and a new school. He was new here himself. The first day of High School at last.
He looked around at those he knew, his friends and classmates from his old school, St.Candice's Catholic Primary School. They were all, like him, excited but a bit unsure of themselves. Standing around, feeling nervous but trying to look cool, like it was no big deal.
But it was a big deal, a really big deal. They'd been looking forward to, and dreading, this day for ages. It was like a rite of passage. They were growing up, teenagers at last.
However, looking around at all the other, older, kids there, he didn't feel very grown-up at the moment. Big buggers they were, big and tall and hairy too, and that was just the girls. (J/k) Lindsay felt like he always had, just a little kid next to all these almost-grown ups. Would he ever get to be so big and strong and confident?
He couldn't see it. At thirteen he was older and bigger than his brothers and sister, but he was still as smooth-skinned and hairless as they were. Not even a shadow of hairs, down there, around his dick, but it shouldn't be long now.
He grinned as Tommy Green ran past where he was sitting. Tommy had more than a shadow down there, he had a fair-sized pubic bush already, and he was SO proud of it. He was not shy about displaying his decorations at every opportunity, (like when swimming, naked, down at the river), and he loved rubbing it into his friends that they were still kids but he was a man already.
He even claimed to be shaving regularly, but Lindsay doubted that. Tommy didn't look to be any more grown up than any of them, apart from his beloved pubic hairs. Lucky Sod.
Still, they'd catch up to him. Lindsay had read the books that his mother, carefully, left lying around. Everyone developed at different rates. Puberty would come one day, the sooner the better, he was sick of being a kid. Then he saw him - 'Whoa! Who is that?'
He didn't know. That boy was a stranger, just one of the dozens of strange new kids milling around outside the school. He had ordinary brown hair, cut really short. He'd probably just had a hair-cut, like most everyone had, like Lindsay had. His clothes were like everyone else's, (well it was a school uniform), and he had two arms, two legs, all the usual bits, just like everyone there.
But there was something, something that made him stand out in the crowd of strangers. What? Lindsay didn't have a clue, but something. He looked nice. He looked like someone Lindsay would like to be friends with. Maybe it was the smile? He did have a great smile, all white teeth and sunshine, it lit up his face.
"Who are you perving at?" Peter Milligan sat down and elbowed him in the ribs. "Seen a hot chick have you?"
"Shut up, Milligan," Lindsay elbowed him back. "I'm not perving. I'm just looking around. I don't see any hot chicks amongst them, not a one."
"No, you're right," Peter agreed. "Pretty ordinary lot aren't they? I guess I'll just stick with Carol. She's still the hottest chick in school."
"She's not the only one here with boobies though, is she?" Lindsay grinned. "There's lots of tittie around here. Whoa. Look at that one."
"Who? Where? Oh yes. Momma, come to Daddy."
"Yeah. Here's my tits, my arse is coming."
"Shut up, Reilly. You're such a pervert."
"Oh? And you're not?"
"What can I say? 'Course I am. I'm a teenager."
"Yeah. A horny teenager."
"You'd better believe it. Aren't we all? Speaking of Carol, here she comes now."
"Yes. I'd better go and remind her that I'm still alive."
"'Kay. While you're at it, why don't you tell her that she's your girlfriend?"
"Shut up Reilly. She knows that. It's about time you got yourself a girl too."
Peter ran off and Lindsay sat back in the sunshine and carried on checking out the new kids. Who amongst them were going to be his enemies? Who were going to be his friends? He looked around for that boy, the one with the smile, but there was no sign of him, he'd gone. Dammit.
The teachers finally got the milling, confused, kids organised, and they went in for their first classes Lindsay sat down, next to Peter, as usual.
"You'd think that they'd be better at this. It's all new to us, but they do it every year."
"Like you could do better?"
"I will. When I'm a teacher, I'll have all you little shits sorted out in no time at all."
"Sure you will. I'm just as old as you are. When you're a teacher, I'll be a man, all grown up just like you are."
"You will, but you'll probably be still stuck here in the new entrant's class."
"No I won't. I'm going to make it through High School just like I did through St.Candy's."
"Yeah, by cheating. Sitting next to me and looking over my shoulder."
"Sounds good to me. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. Our system works fine, you look after me in the classroom and I look after you outside it. You know you couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag."
"Probably not. But, what if? What are you going to do if they split us up and don't let us sit together here?"
"They wouldn't do that, would they? I bloody hope not."
"So do I. Would you still be my bodyguard if they did?"
"Umm, no."
"You wouldn't?" Lindsay whipped around and looked at his friend.
"No." Peter shook his head, then he grinned. "Yeah, of course I would. We're mates aren't we?"
"Yeah. We're mates. Thanks Peter.'
"Hey. Don't you go getting all girly on me. No more than you usually are anyway."
"Shut up, Milligan. I'm not a girl."
"Yeah. I know, I've seen your pee-pee. It's little, but it's there - just."
"Yeah, just. Just as big as yours."
"Biggest in four counties," Peter grinned.
"In your dreams."
"As long as it's not in yours."
"Not bloody likely."
"Right! Settle down, everybody. Quiet please." The teacher paced up and down in front of the class, clapping his hands like a performing seal. Like a performing seal would if it had hands and if it could pace up and down.
After his welcome speech, the teacher, ("Mr. Stratford, John Stratford. You lot may call me 'Sir'"), walked around and passed out the papers for the entrance examination. Their results on this would determine which "stream" they would be in - Upper, Middle or General classes.
When he started the clock and told them to begin, Lindsay quickly completed his papers, no trouble at all. He checked his answers, and then sat back looking around and thinking while he waited for everyone else to catch up.
The teacher was a professional. He said nothing, but he noted that Lindsay was the first one finished and he also noticed where Peter was getting his inspiration from. He walked over and picked up Lindsay's papers, leaving Peter to struggle along on his own.
Lindsay sat looking at his new classmates. He knew a lot of them, of course, from his old school and from the other two primary schools in Westpoint. It was a small town. He even recognized some of those from the surrounding country district schools, but there were a lot there who were complete strangers to him. 'Interesting times ahead.'
There was no sign of that boy, the smiler. He must have been in one of the other classrooms.
He knew that he would finish up in the "upper' classes. He wasn't vain, but he knew what he was good at, like academics, and what he was useless at, like sports and woodwork and anything else. Peter was the sporty one, they made a good team. He hoped that they would still be a team, that this bloody "streaming" system didn't split them up.
Peter was great,('Hah! Peter the Great!'), but he wasn't too bright really. Lindsay had other friends, lots of them, but Peter was the best. They looked after each other, they always had. Until now.
What about that other kid? Would he be bright enough to make the upper stream? Where was he from? And what was his name anyway? Lindsay knew nothing about him, but he wanted to. The kid looked great. He had a great smile and it looked like he had his own circle of friends. He looked like a leader.
What the hell was he doing, sitting here daydreaming about a boy? That had never happened before. Well, almost never. Maybe he was going to be a pervert? 'No. Shut up, Reilly. You think too much.' Peter told him that almost every day.
By the time the slowest ones had finished, it was almost time for the morning recess, so the teacher let them out early. ("Don't expect me to make a habit of this.") Lindsay soon found himself to be the reference point in a wide circle of students checking each other's answers to the exam.
This was nothing new, he was used to that, but this was a much bigger circle than it had ever been at St. Candice's
This was a bigger school, his reputation was spreading already. However, any pleasure he was feeling in the situation suddenly went flat. He saw that boy again. 'The Smiler', was standing there looking at him and he was not smiling.
With a sneer on his face, he looked at Lindsay and asked, "What are ya? Some sort of brainiac or something? Or, are you just a know-it-all?"
Okay. So they weren't going to be friends then. Lindsay fought back. "What's it to you? I'm just saying what I think. You don't have to listen."
"Good job too," the kid replied. "Everyone knows that 'know-alls' know bugger all. Come on, guys. We'll wait to get the answers from someone who really knows what they're talking about." He turned and walked away, followed by three other boys who shrugged and grinned nervously before following him.
"Don't worry about him," a dark-haired girl said. "Southon's far too used to being the blue-eyed boy. A bit of competition will do him good."
"Southon?" Lindsay asked absently as he was still watching him walk away.
"Yeah, Tony Southon. He's from Isherwood, the same as we are. He used to be the 'Top Dog', the number one student in Isherwood School. Of course it didn't hurt that his mum's a teacher there, but he's used to being the best at everything - sports, maths, English, - everything really. Now he's just a little fish in a bigger pond the same as we all are. I'm Jan Banks and this is Linda Herbert."
"Okay. Hello Jan Banks and Linda Herbert. I'm Lindsay Reilly and these are Peter Milligan and Kevin Banks. Are you related?"
"Nah," said Kevin. "I don't think so anyway. I hope not."
"What do you mean, you hope not?" Jan turned on him.
"Well," he grinned. "It would be like incest wouldn't it?"
"Yeah," she grinned back. "But only if."
For the rest of the morning the new entrants were all herded out on to the sportsfields. Although they didn't realise it, even here, the teachers were still checking them out and looking for any potential talents amongst them. Peter, of course, was quite at home. Lindsay played his usual game, enthusiastic but useless.
After lunch they were assembled in the school hall and the principal, Mrs. Lowry, read out all their names and assigned them to their streams. Lindsay was, of course, in the Upper stream. Peter crashed and burned. He didn't even make it into the Middle stream, he'd be going to the General classes with the dummies.
Lindsay determined that they were going to have to do something about that. Peter was going to have to do some serious studying to improve his grades and Lindsay was going to help him. He didn't want to go through the next four years without his best friend by his side. He needed him, dammit! Bugger the system.
The afternoon was spent settling them into their new classes and introducing them to the courses that they would be studying. Even here, Lindsay felt that the teachers were still checking them out. In many ways he felt that this whole day was wasted. Why hadn't the High School just spoken to their old schools before they even got here? They could even have done the entrance exams and had their streams sorted before the end of last year. He'd do better when he was running this place. Lindsay was serious about being a teacher; it was all he wanted to do. "Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach."
He met Peter after school and they walked home together, Lindsay telling him off all the way. Peter wasn't worried, he was a bit peeved at being separated from his best mate, but, hey, it's only school. They'd be out of there soon enough and he'd be working out at the cement works, just like his dad, so, whatever. They did have great sports gear didn't they? Much better than the old stuff at St. Candy's.
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