John had his first big fight with his father the summer he turned sixteen.
“I want to get a job.”
“I’m glad you’re showing some initiative,” Patrick Sheppard said. “But the best thing you can do is represent this family in a positive way. Hang out with your friends at the country club. Play some golf. Networking is just as important to your future career.”
But John had no interest in hanging around the country club with all the other rich kids. He wanted something different. So, despite the amount of yelling his father did and all the threats to cut out his allowance and take away his car, John got a job at the public pool as a lifeguard.
It wasn’t glamorous – occasionally they had to clear the pool because someone puked in it, or worse – but he really liked it. None of the kids at the public pool had to worry about making a good showing of the family name. Instead, they ran around and had splash fights and ate fried dough from the concession stand. There were still girls lounging in skimpy bathing suits to get the boys to notice them, and plenty of boys showing off for the girls on the diving board, but it was different.
John blew his whistle. “No jumping!” he shouted at the kid who kept insisting on doing cannonballs off the side of the pool.
“Hey, Johnny.”
He looked down from the lifeguard stand at Wendy DeMaris, who was a frequent visitor when he was on shift and couldn’t hide in the staff-only lounge. She was wearing a bright blue bikini and lots of matching eyeshadow.
“Hey,” he said, turning his attention back on the pool.
“Some of us are getting tickets for The Police in November. They’re playing up at U-Knox.
“Uh huh.”
“And I thought you might like to come with us.”
John shrugged. “I’m more of a country guy.”
It had started as another little way to get back at his dad, who didn’t care at all for country music, but John had become an ardent fan of Johnny Cash, who just seemed to get that the world sucked sometimes.
“Are you sure? I mean, everyone loves Sting, right?”
“Thanks anyway.” John blew his whistle again. “If I have tell you no jumping one more time, you’re out!”
Wendy sighed and wandered back to her little group of girlfriends. John knew he should be flattered that a girl as pretty as Wendy was into him, but there was something really wrong with him because it was Hank Franklin he couldn’t stop looking at.
Hank was a couple years older than John, and did most of the maintenance around the pool, which he was only allowed to swim in after hours. Hank had dark, dark skin, close-cropped black hair, and when he had his shirt off displayed muscles in places John hadn’t even known a person could have them.
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Fill 1/2: Stargate Atlantis, John Sheppard + OCs
Date: 2021-08-12 05:36 pm (UTC)John had his first big fight with his father the summer he turned sixteen.
“I want to get a job.”
“I’m glad you’re showing some initiative,” Patrick Sheppard said. “But the best thing you can do is represent this family in a positive way. Hang out with your friends at the country club. Play some golf. Networking is just as important to your future career.”
But John had no interest in hanging around the country club with all the other rich kids. He wanted something different. So, despite the amount of yelling his father did and all the threats to cut out his allowance and take away his car, John got a job at the public pool as a lifeguard.
It wasn’t glamorous – occasionally they had to clear the pool because someone puked in it, or worse – but he really liked it. None of the kids at the public pool had to worry about making a good showing of the family name. Instead, they ran around and had splash fights and ate fried dough from the concession stand. There were still girls lounging in skimpy bathing suits to get the boys to notice them, and plenty of boys showing off for the girls on the diving board, but it was different.
John blew his whistle. “No jumping!” he shouted at the kid who kept insisting on doing cannonballs off the side of the pool.
“Hey, Johnny.”
He looked down from the lifeguard stand at Wendy DeMaris, who was a frequent visitor when he was on shift and couldn’t hide in the staff-only lounge. She was wearing a bright blue bikini and lots of matching eyeshadow.
“Hey,” he said, turning his attention back on the pool.
“Some of us are getting tickets for The Police in November. They’re playing up at U-Knox.
“Uh huh.”
“And I thought you might like to come with us.”
John shrugged. “I’m more of a country guy.”
It had started as another little way to get back at his dad, who didn’t care at all for country music, but John had become an ardent fan of Johnny Cash, who just seemed to get that the world sucked sometimes.
“Are you sure? I mean, everyone loves Sting, right?”
“Thanks anyway.” John blew his whistle again. “If I have tell you no jumping one more time, you’re out!”
Wendy sighed and wandered back to her little group of girlfriends. John knew he should be flattered that a girl as pretty as Wendy was into him, but there was something really wrong with him because it was Hank Franklin he couldn’t stop looking at.
Hank was a couple years older than John, and did most of the maintenance around the pool, which he was only allowed to swim in after hours. Hank had dark, dark skin, close-cropped black hair, and when he had his shirt off displayed muscles in places John hadn’t even known a person could have them.