Let Me Explain

T H R E E

"THIS was the essay that helped me pass English III last year."

Weston held the laminated paper, eyes glancing over the essay that she had wrote last school year. I wasn't paying attention to her, mind somewhere else.

We were outside sitting on the bleachers at the football field. I was riding home with her after school since we were studying once again to makeup for lost time last week.

What I didn't know was that Easton was riding with her too.

We had stayed after school, watching the football boys practice. It would've been nicer had the sun not been at its prime.

Easton held the football in one hand, doing a throwing drill with another guy on the team. His arm muscles were visibly and would flex whenever he would throw or catch the football.

The red athletic shirts they had to wear clung to his body, due to how sweaty he had gotten. It provided a clearer view to his toned body.

His dark hair was messy and damp with sweat. I would watch as he would run a hand through it every so often. A light smile would touch his lips as he talked to some of the players on the field.

"Are you looking at my brother?"

"No," I answered, turning my head to look over at her. "I was looking at the field behind him."

A smile touched her lips as she looked at me for a minute longer.

"That field is really interesting then."

"I just never knew that the turf could look so real. Is it even artificial?"

"Fuck yourself," Weston shook her head at me, a smile still grazing her lips.

I lifted my hand, bitting out of my strawberry. "Can I not relax in peace and sit alone in my thoughts?"

"You use your left hand or your right hand for that?"

"Sometimes my left if my right is tired."

"I hate you."

"Kiss me, I'm sorry." I dipped the remainder of the strawberry in the jar of sugar free chocolate. Screwing the top back on, I lifting the strawberry back up to my mouth, biting it again.

West messed with the end of the braid that her long, black hair rested in. The sun was setting from above the field and the bleachers, showing a pretty glow. Practice would be over in the next fifteen to twenty minutes.

"You know, I never dismissed the idea of you becoming my sister in law."

"I have."

"I see the way you look at him sometimes." She continued, a slight lift in her shoulders as she met my gaze. "You both look at each other when the other isn't looking."

"Your brother does not look at me." I used my right hand to brush my brown hair away from my lipgloss when the wind blew.

"He does."

"He also has a girlfriend."

"Don't bring her up."

"They've been together for a while," I shrugged my shoulders, dusting my hands off when I was full of all the fruit I had ate in the past hour. "Better get use to it."

Weston sighed, disagreeing with me. "Dude, that's why I wish you would get with him to get her the fuck out of my house."

"Hate her that much?"

"Yeah, and I think that's a great plan, but I also don't think you could handle him."

"Why not?"

"I've seen a lot of things," Weston responded after a moment, choosing her words carefully. "He's not really a great guy sometimes."