Slippery When Wet

The Closet

It was a cold, crisp night. Weston's blue orbs glistened as the moonlight pierced through his window. His feet had always been a big insecurity for him. He hadn't even told his three best friends, Bella, Emma, and Grice, about his dilemma. As he got ready for Holly J's party, he pondered all of the possibilities.

What if he didn't tie his shoes tight enough, and his greasy feet began to slip? What would he do if everyone was taking their shoes off? What if CORYAWESOMERUSSO was there to watch the slimy footprints Wes scattered about?!

Bella could tell he was in distress, and walked over to calm his anxiety.

"What's wrong, Papi?" Bella questioned. Wes was snapped back to reality by the manic pixie dream girl's silly comment.

"I- uhhhhhh nothing..." Wes stuttered out. His feet got wetter as he began to nervously sweat.

"We know that's not the truth," Emma butted in; they couldn't stand to see Weston so distraught. Bella and Emma looked at each other with questioning glances as they studied their friend. Grice walked out of the bathroom with a cackle.

"Look at these gross feet," they exclaimed, "who in the world would let that happen?!"

Wes had no choice but to break down. His eyes began to stream the same way his feet did, except his eyes didn't have towel socks to absorb the rivers he created. Bella wrapped her arms around his neck for a hug as Emma scampered to get tissues. Grice was astonished by Wes' reaction, and wondered what they did wrong.

      "Weston! What's wrong?" Bella questioned. Wes tapped the tissue Emma gave him to his streaming eyes. He was embarrassed. Terribly embarrassed. Not only because of the secret he was about to share, but also because he was crying like a baby. Luckily, he could pull himself together by focusing on the pink and yellow striped sock Emma had stuck to their shoulder from ripping apart Weston's closet.

     "I have something I haven't told you guys," Wes said through sobs.

    "Oh Wes, we already know you're gay!" Grice exclaimed, trying to make light of the situation.

    Wes uttered out a small, cold laugh and said, "It's not that. God, I wish that was my secret. At least I'd know a gaggle of gays like you would be okay with it. You see, I have this issue. A very unique issue. When I was about thirteen, a problem arose. The doctors couldn't explain it. It's not like any other glandular issue they've ever heard of. My feet excessively sweat. Like EXCESSIVELY. It's the reason I had to quit lacrosse."

    The four of them sat in silence pondering what to say. It wasn't until the silence was broken by Wes' frail, deaf cat's raspy meow that someone finally spoke.

    "Weston, I- I had no idea. I'm so sorry," Grice stuttered as they tucked their phone into their back pocket.

    "How could you know? I never let it slip. You guys are now the only people that know other than my family. Do you guys hate me?" Wes responded.

     Astonished by his assumption, Bella quickly explained, "Weston! We could never hate you! Your feet don't dictate who you truly are."

     "Not true! I HATE Weston," Emma joked, trying to see her dear friend giggle the way he always does.

     The four of them pulled into a deep hug before doing final touch ups.

    After a solid three hours of getting ready, they grabbed their shoes and got ready to go. It would be their first big party all together in a while. With a new openness wafting around them, they were ready.

    They pulled up to the party in Emma's hardly functional car, and investigated the scene. Weston's eyes were immediately drawn to CORYAWESOMERUSSO. He bit his lip thinking of the life that could never be his.

    As the squad strutted up to the action, Weston tripped in his loose shoes. Preparing himself for embarrassment on his journey to the hard ground, he was surprisingly met by a pair of unknown, beefy arms saving him from his social doom