Wes and Toren

WESLEY CARROLL trudged down the hall in his ripped jeans, white T-shirt, and old, red Converse low-tops. A grin lifted the corners of his lips and I felt my stomach twitter in reaction.

"S'up?" he said, passing by me. I felt my heart skip, my stomach drop, and my mouth go dry. He stopped beside me and flashed his grin again. "Cool shoes."

I was wearing a pair of old, brown work shoes, clunky leather things with thick soles. I suddenly thought of an e-mail I'd received of ridiculous pickup lines: Nice shoes. Wanna fuck? I blushed deeper, like Wesley could hear my thoughts.

"Thanks," I stuttered, trying to conceal my reddening cheeks.

Wesley smiled again, said "See ya," and continued on his way. Everyone knew him because he was the troublemaker, the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, the risk-taker, the school's pot dealer. I'd watched him from afar, a middling crush, but this was the first time he had spoken to me, and he left my stomach filled with butterflies.

After English Lit, Hailey stopped me and smiled, typically pretty and a little superficial, flashing her pearl-white teeth, and asking if she could borrow my notes from class. She touched my arm when I told her that she could and she promised that she would return them by the end of the day. I suspected that she was flirting with me, but Wesley was still on my mind and I blushed all over thinking about him.

I ate lunch outside in front of the school, sitting cross-legged on a cement rectangle that served as a giant planter for a tree and evergreen shrubs. It was unseasonably warm for spring but the ground was still thoroughly cold and transmitted the chill through the concrete to my thighs and rear end. I took out a book while I picked at my ham sandwich and ate my apple. I still packed juice boxes in my lunch and slurped it while I read.

I was used to eating alone; I preferred my own company to the loud and obnoxious kids that talked about nothing. I didn't think I was better than anyone else (well, maybe just a little; I had some culture) but I was shy and often earned the epithet "nerd" for getting good grades. Solitude was better than being ridiculed any day of the week.

Before sixth hour, I went to my locker for my history book. It was a heavy tome that we mostly skimmed through, studying about every other chapter. I looked over my shoulder and Wesley was walking toward me. I quickly looked down but strained my eyes to the side to see him.

"Hey, Toren," he said and held out a green notebook. "This is yours, right? Hailey borrowed it?"

I looked at the notebook and nodded my head.

"I told her that we had History together and that I'd give it back to you."

"Oh, um, thanks."

It was like he knew he made me nervous. Suddenly, he threw his head back and snapped his fingers. "Oh yeah. Hailey wanted me to tell you 'thanks' and that you were, what did she say? Oh yeah, super cool." He laughed and I tried to laugh with him but my lips smiled crookedly. "Well, see you in class." He waved slightly and walked away.

People were walking past me and fortunately, no one knew why my face was so flush. My locker was near the classroom and I went inside, sitting in the second row. Wesley probably went to go smoke or was skipping class. Mr. Hannity was a minute late and Wesley strolled in later than that, whispering, "Sorry." He glanced at me as he passed, moving to his seat in the back row.

I went home with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Alycia was at swim practice, Mom worked the mid-shift at the hospital, and I was glad to have the place to myself. I did some homework, but my mind drifted to Wesley to the point of distraction.

After an hour, and an hour before Alycia came home, I found myself in the bathroom, clutching the sink, pushed in there by my own urgings that wouldn't be sated with mere thoughts. It was the first time that I touched myself with an actual person in mind and I felt ashamed as if Wesley knew by some kind of masturbatory telepathy.

Alycia came home, kicked off her shoes and moved around the small kitchen, taking a can of tuna from the cupboard. She left the apron hanging on the hook inside the pantry and I warned her that if she spilled on her clothes that I wasn't going to wash them. She made a face at me and then shook her head.

"I just don't look good in an apron - not like you," she said. "Besides, what could happen? Crumbs could fall on me after toasting the bread?"

"That's another thing too," I said, tapping the counter with my fingers. "You always make easy stuff when it's your turn. Tuna sandwiches? C'mon, even Mom can make those."

Alycia laughed and agreed, but didn't offer to make any vegetable to accompany. I took out a can of green beans and put them over a low heat. Alycia groaned and rolled her eyes.

"I swear, you're gonna make someone a wonderful housewife someday."

I thought of Wesley and blushed; I thought of my affair in the bathroom and blushed deeper and upon realizing that I was blushing, I blushed even more. Alycia caught the guilt in my eyes and grinned from ear to ear.

"Tor? What's that look for? Got someone in mind already?"

"Give me a break," I groaned.