Wesley

ten

The next day I am walking with Hanna in the hallway and I see Ivy and Wesley fighting outside of a classroom door. Well, I don't see it at first but Hanna does, and she puts a death grip on my arm and forces me to look.

Ivy's face is neutral, like it always is, and I flashback to her in the library and what she told me. Wesley is doing all the talking. A vein sticks out the side of his neck and his face gradually gets red. I just wish Ivy would tell Wesley how she really feels. I know she didn't because if she did this wouldn't be happening. I pull my eyes to my feet and walk away with Hanna quickly.

At lunch I sit with Hanna. I notice Wesley sitting with his friends. He seems okay, not the best, but he seems okay. His friends are tossing grapes into each other's mouth's. Wesley sits in the middle of it, laughing and even tossing a grape at times. I love his smile.

I end up wondering again why he wants to go out to eat with me. Maybe he saw me with Ivy and wants to talk to her through me. I start to believe it's too good to be true.

"Um... Kendall?" I hear Hanna speak into my ear. I snap out of it, focusing back on our conversation. What were we talking about?

"Sorry." I say. "Just thinking about an assignment."

She eyes me, then Wesley. "Oh yeah. You've definitely got an assignment to complete there." She wiggles her eyebrows so suggestively at me I almost gag on my sandwich. I wash it down with a gulp of water before I continue.

"All we're doing is going out to eat, Hanna. I told you that."

"I can't believe you don't understand. He asked you out on a date!" She punches me lightly in the arm.  "What happened to just having fun? Getting pregnant?"

My cheeks flush. My anxiety shoots to the roof and I suddenly feel like everyone in the room is looking at me. The thought of my middle school-beginning/high school crush asking me out completely blew my mind. If I told my 8th grade self this, I'd blow a nut. It's just so weird to think about. I'm not sure if the uneasiness caused by Wesley is because I still have part of that 8th grade self in me or if it's because I want nothing to do with my 8th grade self.

"It's not a date."

"Whatever. Text me how it goes." She replies, shoving a forkful of salad into her mouth.

***

Wesley smiled at me between classes and I felt like I was floating.

***

At the end of the day I got a text from Wesley. I didn't have Hanna clinging to my leg so I was all alone walking home. I figure she's with Andrew.

Hey. I can pick you up at your house around 4 if that's okay. We'll go to a really good pizza place a couple miles away. Sound good?

I smile down at my phone and text a reply embarrassingly fast.

Sounds perfect!

My phone buzzes one more time.

Can't wait.

I feel like there is a shaken up bottle of pop in my stomach and I am ready to explode. Everything about this screams "He's using your for something!" but my brain can't seem to stop saying "He's interested in you". And that seems crazy to me.