Wes and Toren (2 page)

“Hey. What’d Hannity wanna talk to you about?” Wesley asked after I stepped out of the classroom. He furrowed his brows and stared at me. “Did he give you a warning about me or something?”

“No. He—he didn't say anything.”

“Yeah, right. He already has me pegged for disaster. But you, you get straight As, right? So, I figure I got myself an A already.”

“You’re gonna have to do your share of the work too,” I said quietly.

“Ah, he
did
warn you about me. Seems like that guy has had it in for me all along. Look, I gotta get a good grade on this project or he’ll fail me, so I need you to get me an A.” Wesley leaned back against the lockers and crossed his arms on his chest. “So, you’re gonna do your part and not talk to Hannity about anything. Got it?”

My heart was beating wildly. He seemed so nice when I talked to him yesterday. “I’m—I’m not gonna do your work for you. You’re gonna have to study too.” My voice was weak and I was trying so hard to sound confident. A smile cracked Wesley’s lips. I was waiting for something; I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it was coming.

“Yeah, okay,” he said after a long pause.

That wasn’t what I was expecting.

“So we have to present on June fifth, right? That’s gives us…what, about a month? Well, we should probably start thinking about a topic then.”

6

J. M. Colail

“I’m kinda interested in the building of the Transcontinental Railroad. Or maybe the Chinese Exclusion Acts of the 1880s,” I suggested. I had already thought about the topic for this project.

“Cool. Why don’t you follow me to my house and we’ll figure it out there.”

“Follow you?”

“Yeah. Don’t you have a car?”

My cheeks reddened as I shook my head. What a stupid thing to be embarrassed about.

“Hmph. I thought I saw you driving around in an old, blue Taurus.”

He noticed me? “That’s my mom’s car.”

“Well, I’ll give you a ride then.”

“But…shouldn’t we go to the library?”

“You wanna go to the library? C’mon, I don’t wanna be in school any longer than I absolutely have to be. Let’s just go to my house.”

“Well, I kinda think the library might be better,”

“I’d rather go somewhere with a smoking section, ya know?

C’mon,” he said, starting to walk away. He stopped and waited while I got my book bag from my locker.

We drove to a ranch-style house with an unmowed lawn, a broken shutter, and a torn screen door. The driveway was cracked and weeds grew in the cleavages between concrete slabs.

“You want a beer or something?” he asked, dropping his book bag inside the door.

“No, thank you.” I stood just inside the front door, gripping the straps of my bag tightly. I looked around at the mismatched furniture, the nicked-up coffee table with two overflowing ashtrays, and the gold shag carpeting from the 1970s.

“Have a seat,” Wesley said, coming from the kitchen with a brown bottle in his hand. “You’re so uptight.” He sat down on the shaggy sofa and patted the cushion. I sat down, pulled my book bag onto my lap, and Wes & Toren

7

pulled out a spiral notebook and folder from our history class. He held his cigarette between his thumb and index finger and put his foot up on the coffee table while I fumbled around for a pen.

“Relax. I don’t bite. Are you sure you don’t want a beer or something?”

“No, thank you.”

I watched him from the corner of my eye. He seemed different but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. He was one of the coolest guys in school, drawing attention whether he wanted to or not. He was the type of guy that would probably end up flipping burgers when he was forty with three ex-wives and a mountain of child support.

Maybe I was a little resentful because everyone liked him and I didn’t really have many friends. He seemed to have it so easy. Most teachers liked him even though he skipped class a lot and never studied.

Even Mr. Hannity liked him, despite his constant interruptions and obnoxious behavior. Belittling his future was all I could do to keep my self-esteem from bottoming out.

“You really wanna get started on the project now? We just got home from school. Relax a little first,” he said, taking a drink from his beer and another hit of his cigarette.

“But, I’ve got other stuff to do, so we might as well just get started.” I stared at the textbook on my lap.

Wesley looked at me for a moment, then stood up and retrieved his book bag from near the front door. “So you wanna do the railroad thing or the Chinese-whatever-Acts?”

He sat down next to me, leaned back into the couch, and crossed his ankle on his knee. His leg pressed into mine and I jerked to the side a little, but his leg still touched mine.

“Yeah, I’m kinda interested in the building of the Transcontinental Railroad. Most people don’t even know that the Chinese built most of it, and basically for nothing. They were really exploited—I guess it just shows where the values of this country come from. Slaves weren’t the only ones exploited. Basically, if you weren’t a white European, you 8

J. M. Colail

were pretty much screwed. And the Chinese Exclusion Acts were part of that too. The government actually excluded Chinese from entering the U.S. But the Chinese used the courts to gain entry, basically outsmarting the government.”

Wesley stared at me with a grin on his face. I suddenly realized that I was just rambling. Did that sound stupid? No wonder everyone called me a nerd.

“You really like this stuff, don’t you?” Wesley asked, tilting his grin to one side.

My cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “Yeah, I do.” Like I could hide it after my educational rant. “Actually, this is what I wanna study in college.”

“You wanna be a teacher or something?” he asked. I nodded without looking at him. “I can totally picture you doing that. I think you’d be good at it.” I tried to hide the smile that was curling my lips.

“So which do you wanna do? The railroad or the Exclusion thing?”

“Let’s do the Chinese Exclusion Acts. I think we’d be able to find more resources about them, anyway.”

“Cool. Now that that’s decided,” Wesley said and leaned forward, opening the cabinet on the coffee table, “you wanna get high?”

“Huh?” I glanced at Wesley and he pulled a small pipe and a clear plastic bag from the cabinet and laid them on his lap.

“It’s my way of saying thanks for doing this project with me, even though you could’ve had a better partner,” he said, sticking his index finger in the bowl of the pipe and tapping it a few times.

“Don’t—don’t worry about it,” I stuttered. I pulled my book bag up to the side of the couch and tried to push my notebook and folder in.

Wesley stopped fingering the bowl and looked at me. “You don’t wanna? C’mon, it’s my treat.”

I had never smoked pot; I had never even seen it before now.

Wesley felt dangerous to me, but it was also part of his charm.

Wes & Toren

9

“I should get going,” I stammered, still trying to fit my notebook and folder in my book bag.

Wesley set the pipe and baggie down on the coffee table and sighed lightly. “You know, Toren, you might look good on paper, but you’re boring as hell in person.”

I looked up sharply. “What? No I’m not.” I looked down into my lap again. He didn't even know me. How could he make such a quick judgment?

He rested his arm on the sofa behind my head and leaned toward me with his same grin. “Prove it then,” he said, moving his face closer to mine. I could smell the tobacco and beer on his breath. “I mean, you’re into boys, right?”

My eyes widened and I stared at Wesley. He smiled devilishly and leaned closer. I swallowed hard and looked down. He didn’t know that I sort of had a crush on him, did he? Was he trying to make me admit it?

Or was he just making a joke?

“Wh—what? Why are you even asking that?”

“’Cause you always look at me like you wanna fuck me,” he answered, with a grin that was almost a sneer.

“What? I—I don’t—”

“No, that’s not quite right,” he said calmly, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head. “No, it’s more like you wanna
be
fucked by me.”

My heart stopped. I didn’t know what to do. I pulled my book bag onto my lap and stood up. “I have to go,” I said quickly and rushed toward the front door.

“You want a ride?” Wesley asked, lighting a cigarette and looking at me over the flame. He sank back into the couch.

“I don’t live too far.”

“See you at school,” Wesley called as I pulled the door closed behind me.

10

J. M. Colail

I GOT to Spanish class early, as usual, and waited for the bell to ring.

Ms. Harper said hello and looked back to the papers on her desk. I looked up involuntarily each time someone came in the room, waiting for Wesley. I was nervous to see him; the things he said yesterday followed me to bed and woke up with me in the morning. How was I supposed to act around him now? Wesley rushed in late, apologized to Ms. Harper quietly and glanced at me as he took his seat. He had a whisper of a smile on his face and my stomach tingled.

“
Uds. tienen un examen mañana
,” Ms. Harper began, followed by a barrage of Spanish that no one really understood. She explained that she would finish up the lesson plan and then give a review in the second half of class.

The test would cover chapters 12 and 13 and Ms. Harper warned us that the exam would be vocabulary-heavy. I made a note of it in the margin and Wesley raised his hand. He went through his usual repertoire of exam jokes, finishing with one about giving us the answers. Ms.

Harper smiled and tried to conceal her rolling eyes.

“Even if I did give you the answers, I somehow doubt you would study those either, Wes,” she answered flatly, then smiled.

The class laughed and Wesley laughed too. Ms. Harper was young, fresh out of college, and a little more lenient than older teachers. She was comfortable joking with students and was a popular teacher.

The bell rang and Ms. Harper told us to study hard.

Wes & Toren

11

Wesley called after me and I turned to see him trotting toward me.

He had a grin on his face and I felt a few butterfly wings in my stomach.

“You wanna study for Spanish together?” he asked, walking next to me.

My eyes strained to the side, trying to look at Wesley without looking like I was looking at him. “Um…I don’t know,” I answered, remembering the things he said.

“C’mon, you gotta study too, right? So why not study together?”

He held his books at the side of his head and I could see the faint outline of muscle in his upper arm.

“Well, um, sure, okay,” I answered. He did have a good point.

“Sweet. Wait for me after History, all right?”

I watched him walk away from the corner of my eye; I liked the way he walked—as if he owned the world. He was so confident and I really admired that about him.

I wasn’t able to concentrate for the rest of the day. My mind wandered to Wesley and what he said. Did he mean any of it? I couldn’t deny the feelings that he aroused in me, but I worried that I might just be a game to him.

I waited in History class. I was always early to my classes and couldn’t seem to break the habit even when I wanted to. Wesley came in and sat on the corner of the desk next to mine and smiled at me.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I answered, looking down at the desktop. He chatted with me as the classroom began to fill up. He talked about school, how eager he was for the summer, and that between me and him, he kinda liked Spanish class.

“Ms. Harper’s pretty hot, so I guess that kinda makes the class go by faster too.”

I looked up at Wesley and he grinned. “Yeah…she is,” I murmured. I tried to sound convincing.

12

J. M. Colail

Mr. Hannity came in and slapped his forehead when he saw Wesley. “Well, damn, if it isn’t Mr. Carroll. Not only on time, but actually early!”

Wesley nodded his head sarcastically and rolled his eyes. The bell rang. Wesley patted my shoulder and went to his seat. I looked around and saw Jen and Olivia watching me. It was common knowledge that Jen had a crush on Wesley; they even dated for a short time. I suddenly felt self-conscious. Did they think I was competition? Of course not; I’m a guy. I furrowed my brows and stared at my desk. Fortunately, Mr.

Hannity began the lesson and I forgot about Jen and Olivia.

The bell rang and Wesley walked me to my locker and waited for me to fetch my stuff. I turned toward the library and Wesley stopped me, his hands casually pushed in his pockets.

“Where are you going? My car’s this way.”

“Um…I thought we were going to the library.”

“Well, we have to practice speaking for the oral, right? And the library isn’t exactly the best place to do that. Besides, I wanna get the hell outta here anyway.” He waited for me and then flashed a grin in my direction.

“Hey, Wes! Wait up a sec!” Benny shouted, running up to Wesley and glancing at me. “Hey, I got a question for you.” He glanced at me again and then leaned forward, next to Wesley’s ear. I heard him mumble something and I stood awkwardly to the side.