The Counterweight (A Magisterium *Calron* Story)

#2

AN: Getting around to finally posting an update for this story. Huge thanks to all of you who have read chapter #1! I hope you like this story and that I can post more for it soon. Until then...read on fellow Magisterium fans and Calron shippers! :D

Enjoy, friends! : )

Aaron Stewart was sitting on an overgrown, spotted, colourful toadstool in the Gallery, watching revamped re-runs of Star Wars (courtesy of Alex Strike), and half-listening to Tamara and Jasper chatting excitedly about something with a detached sort of interest, as he silently sipped at a frothy glass of fizzy drink.
Usually, he would've been over at the foosball table competing with another Copper Year or Iron Year student, or even over at the basket ball court shooting some hoops, or perhaps he would've been talking to Call about his imprisoned father or all the stress he was currently under because of his job as one of the school's Makars.
But, today, today was different. Aaron wasn't doing any of those things, because Call was not there to cheer him on or do said things with him. Instead, he was probably most likely in his room, curled up under the blankets with Havoc resting quietly at his feet, while he laid there, wishing that he were off having fun with his friends.
The blond-haired boy sighed as he thought of all the fun they could be having, if Callum were there. Call always knew how to liven things up. And right now, Aaron wished for just that.
"AARON! AYE, AARON! WANNA SHOOT SOME HOOPS WITH US?!", a red-haired, Iron Year student who Aaron barely knew that well, yelled suddenly, pushing the boy out of his thoughts about his best friend.
Looking up, Aaron saw who it was yelling for him, and gave a reluctant wave in the other boy's direction.
Taking this as a sign, the red-haired Iron Year apprentice swaggered over to him, taking a seat beside Aaron on the overgrown mushrooms, a wide, toothy grin appearing on his lightly freckled face.
When he didn't respond, the kid tapped his shoulder and Aaron glanced up at him, a question slowly forming in his mind.
"Do I know you?", he asked aloud, cringing at how cocky and arrogant it must have sounded.
But, the other younger boy didn't seem to appear phased by this and shook his head vigorously, flashing that toothy grin, again.
"The name's Seymour. Seymour Bradshaw.", he said proudly, thrusting out a hand to Aaron in greeting.
Aaron took hold of the hand, but quickly let go when he felt the unnatural clamminess of Seymour's palm.
He tried not to seem bothered by it, as the kid pulled back his hand and grinned once again, flashing what now appeared to be two rows of yellowed teeth.
Aaron coughed to hide his apparent disgust, but Seymour just kept on grinning.
"You play football?", he asked, eyes going wide suddenly with the hopefulness he was feeling.
Aaron shrugged.
"Uh yeah, for a while when I was living with my dad. I was the team captain actually, won 7 games our first year."
Seymour's eyes turned to literal saucers and he looked ready to pounce on Aaron, excitedly.
"I play football, too. For the Carlisle Cruisers. We won 21 games in our first season. Coach said that someday, we might even be good enough to play for FIFA."
Confusion passed over Aaron's face, like a storm cloud would over the sun and he looked at the Iron Year apprentice, baffled.
"Wait, I thought you said you played football. Not soccer. Right?"
Seymour's grin widened so that his face split into a full-scale laugh.
"Aye, you must've misunderstood me. When I said football, I actually meant soccer. You see, I'm from London and over there we call soccer, football. Sorry about that, I thought you would've known."
The blond-haired boy shook his head and Seymour's toothy grin, disappeared. There was a long awkward, silence that seemed to leech out between them after that, like when a Chaos-Ridden creature would try to slip through the void. At last, Aaron turned back to glance at the other younger, Iron Year boy again and tried for a moment to imagine that instead it was Call standing beside him, and they had just been teased by something Tamara had said and were trying not to suddenly break out into a fit of loud giggles. But, when Aaron's intense focus was broken by the sounds of other kids running around and screaming, he slowly let his gaze fall off of Seymour, to end up staring blankly at the far wall.
"Uh, so, I better get going. My friend's sick today and I promised that I'd check in on him, later. Listen...Seymour, it was nice to finally get to know you. I hope you have a great time here."
Aaron's words were flat, dull sounds and syllables that no doubt came out with an irritated edge to them, but he didn't really care all that much.
Seymour smoothed down a reddish-orange cowlick of hair, nodded slightly and then watched Aaron leave the Gallery, no longer possessing that toothy grin on his face.
Had he would've looked back, Aaron would have saw the almost lost-looking stare in the boy's eyes. As if all that had given him some sort of assurance that he'd actually do well here, had been all because of Aaron, all because of the school's chosen Makar.
Sighing, he fell into a slow walk, mindlessly going down the corridors of the Magisterium as he subconsciously thought about Call.
It wasn't until he reached the large door to their group's common room that he shook himself out of his thoughts, his wristband-clad arm adorned with the two, small yet significant stones levelling up as he moved it just slightly, so that it pointed squarely at the door. Then, he waited for the inevitable, subtle click that soon followed and quietly pushed open the door, so as not to disturb Call, should he still be sleeping.
"Call? Call? I'm back!", Aaron yelled after a few moments, when the dark-haired boy did not emerge from his room or yell back a reply.
"Call? Where are you?"
There was a dense quiet, not even the sound of Havoc's barking could be heard.
Aaron cautiously stepped over Tamara's expensive hairbrush lying on the floor, not even noticing that it had been gnawed on, aggressively. Instead, he continued to survey the room, checking the couch, the kitchenette, their bedrooms, anywhere in their space where he thought Callum might've gone.
And then, it hit him like a literal ton of bricks.
Of course.
He thought, running a hand down is face due to his own stupidity.
He's probably outside giving Havoc his walk...
So, with that bit of resolution, Aaron grabbed his sports jacket off of the couch and ran out of the common room after his friend. Who was really in no condition whatsoever to be outside in the middle of November.
He didn't even bother to stop or slow down when he saw Jasper and Tamara on their way back from the Gallery, arms linked together as they chatted excitedly about random stuff like the rumour that Alex and Kimiya were finally back together and also about how Celia was still trying to see if she could convince Call to go out with her for her birthday next week.
"I heard that she's dead serious about it.", Tamara told the dark-haired, Asian boy as they seemed to slow their pace even more.
Jasper looked at her, his dark eyes slowly widening.
"Really? Who told you that?"
The other girl smirked knowingly, as if that were answer enough, and then flipped her dark, curly locks over her shoulder.
"Well, I think it was Rafe, but I can't be sure. Said he saw her last night at dinner, doodling or something and apparently she was actually writing down her plan. Jasp, I'm serious. Celia's got a thing for Call."
In reply, Jasper snorted.
"Yeah, but who says he likes her? Did you not see the way he just stood there when she kissed him? I'm sure he would've said or done something to make it seem like he did."
Tamara nodded, suddenly deep in thought.
Aaron had slowed his pace when he had heard them mention his best friend and was currently lodged up against the wall of the cavernous school, a stalactite pointing slightly against his back.
Jasper was about to ask what she was doing, when she abruptly blurted something out.
"Can you repeat that?", the dark-haired, Asian boy asked, looking slightly confused.
Nodding, Tamara took a deep breath and said it again. Words that caused Aaron in his hiding spot, to instantly pale, so that his face seemed to be the same clear, pale, white as the eyeless fish that swam in the river, nearby.
"You don't think-no who am I kidding, that's crazy! You don't think that maybe uh..."
Jasper, feeling terribly beyond the point of aggravation by then, rolled his eyes before snapping his fingers abruptly in her face.
"Ugh, just spit it out, Tamara!", he whined, causing Aaron despite himself, to chuckle at the way the boy sounded more like a five year old than a teenager.
Sighing, Tamara slowly nodded and took a deep breath. Preparing her next words.
Aaron too, suddenly overcome with a feeling of great anxiety again at what his friend had to say, so that he ended up pressing himself even closer to the cave's uncomfortable wall, his back completely rigid.
"You-you don't think that maybe...the reason that Call's not acted on the-the feelings Celia so clearly has for him could be because-because he's uh you know...gay?"
There was absolute silence. Aaron, who was astounded that Tamara would even assume such a thing about Call, held his breath, for fear of being caught eavesdropping on the two. But, inside his head, his thoughts swirled violently about as he tried to make sense of the sudden assumption.
Surely, Call wasn't...? He couldn't be...? Could he?
It just didn't make any sense to Aaron.
Sure, Callum Hunt hadn't ever really openly expressed an interest in any of the girls who attended the Magisterium with them, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was into guys. Did it?
After all, if it was true, Call would have told them. Told him that is...
Finally, Aaron frustratedly shook his head to clear his onslaught of thoughts about his best friend, causing his blond hair to fall limply down into his face. He gave a small sigh and then de attached himself from the wall, slipping quickly behind the rows of stalactites again and began to walk away, before his two other friends could notice that he had been there.
But, all the way back to their rooms, his room rather, he couldn't stop thinking about what Tamara had said and whether or not he should bring it up with Call when he returned from wherever the heck he'd gone.
It wasn't like Aaron could just casually go up to Call and ask him if he was refusing Celia's (and practically every other female-inhabitant's advances on him), because he was gay.
No. That was definitely not something that would go over well with the other boy.
When Aaron Stewart finally reached the familiar door that led to their common room, he did the usual unlocking with his wristband and then opened it before silently closing it behind him.
Just in case he's sleeping, Aaron thought.
Don't want to accidentally wake him up...
But, the blond-haired boy needn't have worried about disturbing his friend's rest, because as soon as he'd taken off his sneakers, he glanced up and immediately noticed that Callum was sitting on one of the couches. Call didn't see him at first though, because his attention was focused on something else, a paper of some sort that probably was undoubtedly a letter from his father, Alastair. Upon second glance, he also saw that Call's chaos-ridden wolf Havoc, lay sprawled out across his lap, snoring contentedly, a string of saliva falling from the canine's slightly parted jaws, only to form a small, distinct puddle on the white-washed denim of the other's jeans.
"Havoc, not again!", Call exclaimed, as he brought one of his legs up, rousing the wolf out of it's resting place.
The chaos-ridden wolf jumped down after a few more, persistent prods from Callum's leg and strode off to go find somewhere else to lay down.
It was then that Call finally saw Aaron standing by the closed door, watching him with a thoughtful yet calculating look.
"Oh sorry, Aaron, I didn't hear you come in. I guess I was too preoccupied with this letter that Alastair just sent me."
Aaron simply nodded and started to walk over to the cluster of couches, taking a seat on one beside Call.
"Uh, is something wrong, Stewart? Tamara making you go to the library with her again?"
But, the other boy just shook his head and sighed before laying back slightly into the couch cushions, his foot shaking, rhythmically.
Callum pretended not to notice his best friend's sudden uneasiness. He cleared his throat and was about to ask what was troubling him, when Aaron suddenly turned so that his green eyes were fixed firmly on Call.
"Call, can I-can I ask you something? It's kinda important.", Aaron seemed to blurt out all in a rush and Call despite his better judgement, gave a nod.
"Sure, is there something that's bothering you? Makar problems? Is Master Rufus gonna make us do the sand sorting thing, again?"
But, Aaron just kept shaking his head at each of Call's questions and finally he got up from his seat on the couch, as if the very surface of it were lava before walking determinedly over so that he stood in front of where Call sat.
Call, feeling nervous all of a sudden, swallowed quickly and forced himself to look up and meet the other boy's firm gaze.
"I-I didn't want to have to ask you this, okay? But, Tamara-Tamara and Jasper were off in the corridor talking about stuff and they started to bring up your whole one-sided kiss with Celia after we came back and well-well she might have asked Jasper if you were-were- Oh, I can't say it! The very idea that they'd think-that she'd think-"
Call stopped him by bringing a hand up to touch Aaron's shoulder, he was still dressed in his school uniform and jumped slightly when he felt the sudden contact.
For some reason, Aaron noticed rather unpleasantly, that Callum did not in the slightest appear to look even a little alarmed, but on the contrary, he seemed...relaxed?
"H-how can you possibly be relaxed right now?!", Aaron demanded.
"Do you not know what she said about you?!"
Call actually managed to chuckle at that and shook his head, his slightly rumpled black hair moving with the action.
"No Aaron, I don't because you haven't actually got around to telling me, yet!"
The blond cringed when he heard the anger seeping into his best friend's voice. Suddenly, he had a vague image of Call, him, Tamara and Jasper after finding out what-who Call was. He could still vividly picture Callum Hunt becoming the horrible, evil overlord Constantine Madden, everyone now believed him to be. The Enemy of Death...
There was no way he could tell Call what he'd heard today, it just wasn't possible. Not now, anyway.
So, even though he knew later on he would most likely regret doing this to someone like Call, someone he cared about, Aaron Stewart took a breath and did what he knew might not be right, but at least it would save him from having to have such an awkward not doubt heated conversation with him.
He lied.
"Uh, well I-I think that Tamara likes you. Like, really likes you, I mean."
"You-you do?", Call asked his friend, disbelieving.
Aaron nodded firmly and forced himself to crack an amused grin.
"Yes. Yes, I do."
But, then Call frowned, causing Aaron to once again pale.
"What?", he asked, fearing that Call had realized he had lied to him.
"Oh, uh nothing. That's-that's um just kinda...interesting."
Aaron nodded, feeling like if he took even one more breath of air, he'd faint.
The common room had suddenly become extremely stifling.
So, before Call could say anything more, he turned and half-walked, half-ran into his own room, hurriedly slamming the door shut.
Meanwhile, outside in the common room still, Callum Hunt simply sat in a stunned silence as he tried to figure out why Aaron had been acting so strange and why he'd taken off.
One thing he did know for sure was, if the only thing he knew for certain, was that something very peculiar was going on with his friends and he was going to get to the bottom of it.