Cape Hawthorne Vol. 1

Chapter 11: The Second Meeting

Christina paced back and forth across Wesley's basement, every now and then a "but-" or "if-" falling from her lips, but never with any sort of follow up. Her thoughts were all so jumbled, she couldn't seem to string them together to form a coherent sentence to discuss any of it with Wesley in hopes of gaining some measure of clarity.

Hard as it may be to believe, Wesley was probably doing worse than Christina at processing the situation.

After Wesley had driven her there (though they never actually discussed it, both had wordlessly agreed to stay together until they regrouped with the gang later), he'd pulled out his phone to examine the picture again. He hadn't put it down yet, but he seemed more to be staring into space–most likely questioning his entire existence–than studying what was in front of him.

As much as Christina felt she needed to pace to expel some of her nervous energy, she wanted to snap Wesley out of his stupor more. His silence and stillness seemed so jarringly out of character, all she wanted in that moment was her Wesley back and she couldn't care less about sick principals and teachers, or vampires who were obsessed with her.

She walked over to his musty, stained couch and paused in front of him. He looked up at her with exhausted eyes.

Chris decided, in that moment, that Wesley Keene was beautiful. Not in the traditional sense, no. He had a tiny scar on his left cheek, just below the eye–both of which had deep circles underneath them– unkempt hair, and chapped lips. But he was real. He was a strong, bright boy who was battling to hold on to the last bit of rationality he could, because he could only predict and control the things that made sense.

Chris brushed his bangs off his forehead, letting her hand slide gently down the side of his face, just as he had done to her earlier. His breath hitched as he continued to stare at her. Taking his phone, she shut it off and set it on the scratched and scraped-up coffee table behind her. She sat down beside him and grabbed his hand, resting her head on his shoulder. Exhaling, he leaned into the gesture.

Already, she could feel the tension leaving his body as he relaxed against her.

"Can we just stay like this for a while?" Chris tucked her legs up onto the couch next to her, careful not to move her head or disturb Wesley.

"That sounds nice," came his hoarse reply and Chris could feel him smiling against her head.

And just like that, Christina's eyes felt heavier. She could rest for a minute or two...

-*-*-

Within a few minutes, Christina was out cold, and Wesley was gently lowering her down onto the couch. He placed a blanket over her small frame and hesitated only a moment before pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

As much as he would have loved to stay there and just hold her for as long as she'd let him, he needed answers. And he had an awful feeling that he knew exactly where to find them...

-*-*-

"Where have you been?" Samuel shouted at Wesley and Christina when they walked through the pizza parlor's front door, twenty-three minutes late. Both sported tired faces, messy hair, and Christina was drowning in one of Wesley's sweatshirts. This didn't escape Samuel's notice and he definitely wasn't going to let them off the hook. "Never mind, I guess we probably don't want to know," he winked, just to make the pair even more uncomfortable.

"Shut up, you know it wasn't like that," Wesley tried to sound menacing, but between the yawn and his vibrant blush, it just wasn't working for him.

Christina just kept her head down to hide her own blush and went to slide into the booth with Wesley following close behind. She slid in next to Allianne, across from Samuel, Parker, and Hailey (who was bizarrely serious tonight) and only then did Christina notice that Wyatt was there too, in the corner behind Alli, looking a bit uncomfortable, slightly jittery, and very squished.