If A Body
Rating: G
Pairing: Bright/Ephram
Characters: Bright, Ephram
Summary: Bright needs an English tutor and enlists Ephram.
Author's Note: This fic came about via a challenge from Lyndsay. She asked for Bright/Ephram, using the words bludgeon, snivel and erratic. Thanks to Shelley for the extremely fast beta.
DISCLAIMER: Originally posted on LiveJournal 5/27/2003. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Warner Brothers and all its incarnations, Everwood Utah, Inc., Berlanti & Liddell Productions, Film Garden Entertainment, et al. They are not mine.
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Ephram hated gym class. He hated wearing stupid gym clothes, he hated running laps around the stupid track and he loathed stupid team sports.
Especially lacrosse.
He was picked fifth for Rob Irving's team. He noticed Bright whispering in Rob's ear, pointing in Ephram's direction. Ephram rolled his eyes when he was called over.
When the game started Ephram skirted the edges of the action, backing away warily whenever the ball headed in his direction. When David Warner tripped, landing on his his right arm with a sickening crack, Ephram felt justified in his caution. He leaned on his lacrosse stick, watching David scream in agony on the field.
Bright wandered over, swinging his stick around recklessly.
Ephram ducked, "Dude, can you watch that? I don't really want to get bludgeoned after I worked so hard to stay the hell away from that melee."
"Oh. Sorry."
Bright imitated Ephram's stance, leaning on his stick for a couple of seconds before turning to Ephram and kicking the grass with his toe.
"So...Ephram. You're like, good at English, right?"
"Well, I have spoken it all my life. Unlike yourself, as far as I can tell. Why?"
Bright fidgeted, "I sort of...need help with a paper."
"And you're telling me this because?"
"I was wondering if you could..." he trailed off.
"Wait, you want me to tutor you in English? Why?"
Bright shrugged uncomfortably, "You're smart."
"Well, that's a given, but there are a lot of other intelligent people at this school who would much rather spend their time with you. Can't Amy help?"
"Amy's too busy trying to finish rebuilding Colin's brain."
Ephram looked at the ground, crossing his arms. He hated any mention of Amy and Colin; it only served to remind him of what he lost after Colin's second surgery.
"Bright. Why would you want my assistance? Tutoring would take, like, at least hour every day, probably more considering...well, that it's you. An hour that you and I would have to spend together. And you don't like me."
"I do like you," Bright smiled shyly.
"You do not."
"I do!"
"Not," stated Ephram, rolling his eyes.
Bright leaned over and gave Ephram a Look.
"Do."
Ephram squirmed, "Are...are you flirting with me?"
Bright straightened up, poking the dirt with his lacrosse stick. His cheeks were bright red.
"Don't you think I could find someone better to flirt with?" Bright scoffed.
"You are! You are totally flirting with me."
"You wish."
"Okay, find yourself someone else to help you in English, then," Ephram said over his shoulder as he walked toward the other side of the field. The paramedics had arrived and were loading the sniveling David into an ambulance. Bright ran after him.
"Ephram! Hey!" Bright said, grabbing his arm.
Ephram spun around and glared at Bright. He grinned at Ephram sheepishly.
"So, um. If I admitted I was flirting with you, would you be my English tutor?"
Ephram wrinkled his nose. Bright was always pretty erratic, but this was a bit much. Why on Earth was he trying to be all cute? And why on Earth did Ephram kind of like it? No, stop that, he thought, I don't like it. Bright is dumb and irritating.
Like a puppy dog. A cute little puppy dog with soulful eyes and unrelenting enthusiasm that you just wanted to hug and pet and...ew. Gross. Stop it.
Bright poked him in the arm. "Ephram?"
Ephram shook his head and smacked himself. Then he smacked Bright.
"Ow!"
"Are you doing this just because you need help in English, or is it something else?"
Bright tried to look innocent. "Because...I...need help in English?"
"Oh, God."
"Look, I really do need a tutor."
Ephram poked Bright in the chest. "I will help you on the condition that you stop acting all weird. This is about studying, and that's it."
He regretted agreeing as soon as he saw Bright's huge grin.
"Sure! Meet me at my truck after school!" he said, running off to the locker room.
Ephram threw his lacrosse stick across the field.
"What have I done?"
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