Murders Of The Past

THIRTEEN

Ummm well this is awkward.

So I posted a chapter two days ago and that was not the chapter I was supposed to post, not yet. My bad... Sorry about that. Let me fix that...

OK so this is actually chapter 13, and this is what you were supposed to read the other day. Whoops!

WESLEY AMERAM, I type into the search bar before jabbing the Enter key. I clasp my hands together, waiting, bouncing my legs eagerly. It isn't long before the circle in the center of the screen disappears and words and pictures spread across it like a wild fire.

First, I bow my head, looking at the keyboard instead of the screen, afraid of what I might find— or what I won't find. But eventually I bring myself to look up. There, right at the top of the screen, is Wesley Ameram. Holding a basketball and grinning at the camera, his lucky number stitched into his white and gold jersey, 44. Golden hair. Dimples on either cheek. Chestnut brown eyes staring right back at me, into my soul.

  A smile tugs at my lips. Those chestnut brown eyes.

  I knock softly on the wall, watching him cautiously from the doorway. He was sleeping, or he looked to be sleeping— something told me he wasn't really sleeping.

  "Wesley," I spoke gently. I waited a moment before stepping into his room, over to his bed. "Wesley." I touched his shoulder, giving it a shake. He let out a groan and I relaxed. Good thing he wasn't dead.

He rolls over and looks at me with glassy eyes. Dull, glassy brown eyes.

  "Come on, Wes." I sigh, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "You can't lay here forever." He shakes his head, closing his eyes.

  "I can."

  "I mean... you can..." I tilt my head. "But why? What is that going to do?"

  "Protect me." I raise a brow.

  "Protect you from what?" I prompt. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. I bring my hand out and brush it through his short golden hair, hoping this will help him to open up.

  "Reality," he murmured weakly.

  "Reality?"

  "Car, I don't want to graduate high school." At that I let out a derisive laugh. One that made Wesley snap upright and stare at me warily.

"Sorry, sorry." I hold my hand out. "I'm just... pitying you." Or maybe I'm pitying myself. At least you get to graduate high school, Wesley.

"Pitying me?" He tilts his head questioningly.

"Yeah..." My eyes slip from his. "Come here." I grab his hand and jump up, pulling him from the bed.

"Where are we going?"

"To remind you why you haven't faked your own death yet."

I pull him out of his house and to the little court at the end of the street. Already there's a basketball waiting for us.

  "Caroline, I'm not in the— " I grab the basketball, tossing it into the air.

  "Wesley Ameram doesn't want to play basketball?" I ask with an exaggerated level of awe. He purses his lips and narrows his eyes, crossing his arms.

  "I'm just not in the— "

  "Wesley Ameram doesn't want to play basketball," I repeat, staring at the ground in incredulity.

  "Nope." Finally I look up at him.

  "Alright, here." I straighten my back. "If you can make this, you can go back to wasting your life away in your bed." He perks up at this. "But if you miss, you have to..." What does he have to do? Think Sadie. "You have to pay my rent for a year."

  "What!" I smirk, nodding.

  "It's up to you." I bounce the ball to him. "Make it and go back to sleep. Miss and pay my rent."

  "That is so— "

  "Time's ticking." I tap my wrist. He sighs, turning to face the hoop. I step back, crossing my arms and watching.

  He dribbles the ball a few times, studying the hoop, the distance, the angle, before he lifts the ball and chucks it. I watch the graying orange tattered ball fly through the air. Part of me hopes he doesn't make it, because then he'll have to pay my rent.

  It makes it.

  My shoulders slump as I look at him.

  "Congrats," I say tonelessly. He looks at me, a smile tugging at his lips. "I suppose you're going to go back to your bed now?"  He retrieves the ball and spins it in his hands. He shakes his head.

  "Nah." My brows quirk up. "You're right. I'm just being dramatic."

  "I never said that," I mumble.

  "But it's true." He walks over to me. "It's part of life. Everyone has to grow up at some point." He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in for a side-hug. "I may as well make the most of it." I look up into his chestnut brown eyes. "Why haven't I faked my own death yet? Because I have basketball." He holds up the ball, his eyes sparkling. "Thank god for basketball," he whispers.

  "Sadie!" I jump, slamming my laptop shut and turning in my chair to look towards the front of the house. I lift my watch. It's only two. What is he doing home? "Sadie, where— oh there you are." Carlos walks into the dining room and leans against the wooden table, smiling down at me. For some reason I keep my eyes on my closed laptop, refusing to look at him.

  "I left work early." I nod my head. When he doesn't say anything else I feel I should speak.

  "Why?"

  "So we can go on a date." My brow raises.

  "A date?" He nods, beaming. "I... no thanks. Not now." I shake my head, looking away. He slides down the table, stopping right beside me.

  "Why not? We haven't had one in a long time," he complains. I glance at my laptop and frown.

  "Carlos! You're sitting on my laptop!" He looks down and stands up.

  "No I am not!"

  "Well not now!" I growl. I was about to raise my hand to smack his ass away from me but decided against it. Knowing him he would just make that into a game.

  "Come on, Sadie baby." Carlos grabs my chin, giving me no choice but to look at him. I could always close my eyes. "Sadie baby," he says again, but this time in a baby voice. "Say-day bay-bay." Thats it. I raise my hand to slap his hand away but stop.

  "Where at?" I ask, suddenly interested.

  "Anywhere you'd like." He smiles. I look away to think. Anywhere I'd like.

  "Golden Corral?" I look at him.

  "Hmm. Sure." He stands up and walks to the front of the house. I stand up to follow, glancing at my laptop one last time.

  Wesley Ameram lives on 9701 Phillips Rd SW Lakewood, Washington.