Warbler Infections

Chapter 29: "Last Friday Night"

Friday October 29th, 2010
Wes' POV:

   The days have flown by as of late, almost too quickly. The Warblers dove straight into regionals preparation following our puzzling sectionals victory. Every morning saw fewer and fewer students strolling the campus grounds littered with dying leaves of auburn and copper, now cooped up in dorms cramming for interims and finals.

  And every passing twenty-four hours brings me closer to that damn dance.

   So here we are, David and I, awkwardly facing each other in the common room. Things used to be so simple between the two of us, at least they were until that ridiculous spin the bottle kiss.

   How do you pretend to be someone's best friend when you've swapped spit and share a bedroom? I can hardly pull myself together anymore for our weekly rehearsal meetings, let alone a full-blown formal.

   "Well, I think we can both agree that as interesting as a Lorde and Panic! At the disco mashup would be, it doesn't fit our image. Wes? Dude, you're not listening to a single word I'm saying." David had glanced up from our setlist draft, raising an eyebrow when my attention was directed to a screen.

  "Look, my parents are grilling me for missing tomorrow's family dinner and I have to explain that I'm on the formal committee so they let me stay." I sent another quick text and flipped the cell closed. "And I don't want to hurt your feelings but today's song suggestions are heavily lacking taste. No offense."

  David let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back down on the leather sofa. "Wes, you're not on the formal committee."

  "Exactly, but my parents don't know that. And I'd rather lie and risk punishment than tell them why I'm skipping dinner for a school dance." I quipped back without hesitation.

  "Why don't you just be honest with them? My mom already knows that I'm busy tomorrow and she couldn't care less. Or just say that you're jamming in more study time at the library, I'm sure they'd believe it."

  David has no clue.

  "Uh, my parents aren't exactly.....

  "What in the world has gotten into you, Wesley? Your little singing group tied with a poor choir from Lima and you're barely pulling an A- in honors physics. Have you been around drugs and alcohol? Frankly, that's the only plausible explanation I can come up with."

  "What? No father I, I guess things have been more extreme this semester but I'm doing the best I can."

  "You're not. It isn't just your repulsive GPA but you have changed for the worse as well. You talk back, never answer your mother when she invites you home, and I know for a fact that you don't attend the dates we prompt for you with Westerville's finest adolescent girls. Don't think for a second that we haven't noticed."

  "That isn't true! I have gone on every single one of those dates despite my numerous confessions to you that I despise them, father. What more do you want from me?"

  "To bring home a girl. We have given you plenty of options but you find it fit to leave before you get to know any of them. And now you come back just to tell us that you will be absent next week to go to a disgusting dance with no date?"

  "There will be at least one hundred ladies from Crawford going. I'll dance with a few and maybe one of them will catch my eye. Isn't that enough?"

  "It would be if you weren't constantly disappointing us, Wesley. And we want you as far away as possible from that Thompson boy. He's a terrible influence and offers you nothing. Clear?"

"As crystal, sir."

.....they aren't exactly the most accepting folks."

   Sure they can be strict and maybe too harsh at times but they still love me. Right? Parents don't have to visit you at school or give you hugs to tell you that they care. Some prefer, "you've done well son" or firm handshakes instead.

  David passed the roaring fireplace to come behind my recliner across the room. "If it's too much of a hassle for your schedule then you should be with your family. They want you at the house this weekend."

  "No, really, everything's fine. They just need to realize that this is important to me and mother's burnt duck will have to wait a while for me to inevitably throw it away." I reassured him, starting in my biology term paper.

  "But what about-

  "I don't want to go home, alright David?!"

   That's not what I meant to say.

  "What's this about, Wes? I know this is deeper than the dance. I'm here to listen and now you're just bottling up your temper and letting it out on me." He squeezed my tense shoulder, settling into the loveseat next to mine. "Please tell me what's up."

  "I don't even know where to begin. Honestly, it feels like I'm walking on the yellow lines of a highway and if I make a misstep I'll be run over. Nothing I do is ever enough for my father and my mother is too afraid to stand up for herself. I'm the family disappointment, joke, a disgrace. And, well, man I don't even want to tell you."

  "Wes, it's okay, you can tell me anything. You don't mean any harm." David soothed.

  "They want me to stay away from you."

The sentence felt sour on my tongue and the disheartened pout on David's face didn't change that. All the light from his eyes faded, refusing to look up from the area rug under the coffee table.

  "Oh. They did." He mumbled.

  "But they're wrong. If anything, you're the only one who's kept me in one piece when I'm on the verge of falling apart. You've done more for me in two years than they've done in sixteen. This is why we are going to that formal. Not just because it was a dare and backing out would be lame, but because we're a dynamic duo and they'll just have to suck it up."

  David snorted, slapping my knee. "You're a lot more rebellious than you lead on. If only mommy and daddy were aware of your less than pleasant language. Or the time you claimed onto the roof and declared that-

  I flicked him in the back of the head before anybody could hear of my sleepwalking endeavors. "Alright, you've made your point. Pity party's over, back to work."

  He reached for his clipboard, ready to add more hilariously unrealistic musical tributes to the list. "What about a mashup of Fergie and Madonna? Who wouldn't love that?"

  "Anyone over the age of forty. Are you sure a certain counter tenor didn't pay you to suggest that?"

  "Fine, that's a no I presume. Now imagine it, Fall out boy mixed with Ke$ha!"

  What I'd give to see what went on in that brain of David's. If he even has one.

Hey guys! I know that this chapter is pretty long but sometimes a story just takes five pages worth of notebook paper, oh well. I'm so grateful that at the time of writing we are currently number one in the klaine tag and that's insane. Seeing the comments and feedback on both the chapters and discussion boards make my day so please keep them coming! Have a great morning, afternoon, or night. You are capable of so much more than you think!
Your fellow gleek,
  - Lindsay 💕