Boys of West Denton ✓

chapter seven

Harris

I'm full of jitters as Seb and I walk into Paco's. I'm just in front of him, coming right to the back of a line consisting of a dad with two young kids and an elderly throuple. The seats are all cracked teal vinyl, something that will poke into your backside if you sit just wrong, but they've been the same since I was a kid. I've been coming here as long as I can remember, just me, my mom, and my grandma. I grew up close with the two of them, with Mom trying for years to get back on track to go to med school. Grandma was too busy to watch me often, but she was always around, helping whenever she could.

The booths are more full than the long tables. On muggy nights, you'd see the opposite, but right now, there are a plethora of hungover teenagers stuck at home with migraines and DIY hangover cures.

There are familiar faces though, like my fifth grade English teacher hiding in the corner, or Evan Miller, one of the guys on my cross country team, sitting with his girlfriend Rachel. His arm is slung casually around her shoulders, holding her against his chest while her lithe runner's frame shakes with laughter.

"Evan!" I shout. He looks up. "Hey!"

"Hey, Harris!" His gaze flits to Seb, back to me, then back over. "Hey, Seb."

Seb shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He gives Evan a quick nod and mumbles something that feels like it could be a hello. Evan's smile screws itself up a little tighter, his brow scrunches up more, and he seems to hesitate a moment before turning his attention back to a still-laughing Rachel.

"You know Evan?" Seb asks when we turn back around to join the line.

"Huh?"

"Evan," he says. "You guys seem, uh, chummy."

If I knew him better, maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to pinpoint that strange look in his eyes, the detached unfeelingness of his gaze that potentially guards something more. But I can't tell. Sebastian is little more to me than a stranger, whether I like it or not. 

"We do track stuff together," I tell him. "Rachel too, but she's two years younger than us, so like, I don't know her too well, but she seems really nice. I mean, they've been together a while, haven't they? That whole 'on again, off again' thing? Pretty interesting stuff."

"Hm." Seb isn't looking at me, just at the lit up menu up on the wall behind the cash register, and I just know I've said something wrong.

"Not that I think other people's relationships are interesting. Like, I've got my own life, I'm all good on drama." I wince inwardly. Bad phrasing. Bad, bad phrasing. What a way to come across as a red flag, wow.

Seb gives me a look from the side, accompanied by one of those turtle smiles people make when they see you taking a video of them and they don't know what else to do.

"Anyways, yeah, we're not close or anything, just figured I'd say hi, because like—"

"You're good," he says, then sighs. One stickish arm raises through the air; he rubs the back of his neck in a way that seems more self-soothing than self-massaging. Already just a few weeks into summer weather, and the back of his neck is already noticeably redder than the rest of him. "I guess he just stresses me out, is all."

I blink. I hadn't expected that, not really. Evan is a pretty quiet guy all things considered. He hangs out with some slightly-douchey guys, but even when they're all together, he's quiet, electing only to laugh softly at their slightly-douchey jokes. He's a chill dude. The notion that he could even be found stressful is interesting, but I'm not about to judge. Seb's experience is his experience, whatever. It has nothing to do with me, after all.

We order separately—a burger and one strawberry shake for me, one chocolate malt for Seb—and turn back to the lobby. The only seats that are open are all ones incredibly close to Evan and Rachel, and with how his sharp shoulders scrunch forward awkwardly, and with his sour expression, I can tell that Seb doesn't want to go sit by them.

Part of me wants to ask him why he doesn't like Evan, but I know full well that it's not any of my business. Like, I might be stupid, but I'm not that stupid. So, taking a few steps to the side to see better, I peek outside the doors on the side of the building. Surrounded by small, prickly bushes and cracked cement, the picnic tables are empty, which is better than nothing.

"Once we get our stuff, wanna go sit outside?" I ask him.

"It's kind of hot outside, isn't it?"

I blink, feigning surprise. "Is it? I love this kind of weather."

"Hmph." Seb takes a few steps over to look outside with me, then glances back to Evan and Rachel. Her head is on his chest, and he's looking in the completely opposite direction than us, his gaze fixated on something outside the window. "Are you sure? We can sit inside if you want. I don't mind."

"Okay, Seb." I cross my arms. "I'm gonna share with you some wisdom that my grandma gave me sitting over there in that very booth"—I point to the corner for emphasis; the elderly throuple now seated there notices, but I don't care—"about seven or so years ago. Are you ready?"

"Ummm.... Sure?"

"Alright. Here goes: you do have a preference, so don't be a little pussy and not share it."

"Your grandma called you a pussy?"

"A little pussy. Yes." I cross my arms. "And, like, bro, I was being one too. Just like you are right now. Do you want to sit out there, or by eh-eh?" I not-so-subtly gesture to Evan with my thumb.

"I ... I don't know. I don't really care."

"Nope. I'm the one who doesn't care. I've decided I care a lot less than you do. I don't care at all, not one bit. So fucking choose, Sebastian."

He shifts his weight from foot to foot. His dark blue shirt makes his skin seem even paler than usual, somehow. He looks like he's uncomfortable after leaving his mother's basement for the first time. He makes it look pretty, though.

"You gonna choose?"

"Fine, fine. Let's just go outside. Once everything's out."

"Cool." I smile. "How hard was that?"

He just shakes his head. "Can't believe your grandma called you a 'little pussy.'"

"You should have heard what your mom was calling me last night. Bajillion times worse."

Finally, he laughs, and I try to savor the sound to recall later, before joining in with him.

A/N -

BOYS OF WEST DENTON is an Ambassador's Pick for Round 2 of the OpenNovellaContest which is so freaking cool and I'm very very very very happy. That's all I have right now, lol. Nuff said.

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!!