A Necessary Struggle: Fall Semester

Part 49

    Harmony signed them up to volunteer at the Fall Festival in August. Now on this cloudy, cool Saturday, she was stuck in a booth with Wes. He refused to talk to her. The only words spoken within the wooden enclave was to the patrons that desired a warm cup of apple cider or hot cocoa. Thankfully, the line was a steady moving never-ending beast. There was no time allotted for awkward silences or fighting matches.

      Harmony welcomed the silence. It gave her time to think. After the baby shower a week ago she couldn't help but ask herself, Why was she with Wesley Florence, other than the fact that her family loved him. On Monday in Political Philosophy while Professor Rodriquez rambled on about Kant, she let her mind travel back to the first time she met Wes. Sweat rolling down sun-kissed skin as Wes did his fortieth push-up; the image floated to the forefront of her memory like a photograph. She stalked out on the field during practice after Samuel told her Wes said it was okay for players to pay for essays. He offered to buy her dinner as retribution. They got their fill of Tex-Mex that night then went back to the football field and hung out under the moonlight.

      As Professor Rodriquez switched from Kant to Aristotle, Harmony went over all the topics they talked about that night. Family; he was an only child and his father died before he was born. Religion: he was Baptist used to being ushered off to church every Sunday and Wednesday. He'd slacked off since he was away from home. Only showing up to service probably once a month. Major: broadcasting journalism. If he didn't make it in the NFL at least he could still analyze the sport. The Future: he wanted a wife and kids but not until he had enough money to take care of them. He liked ice cream but hated chocolate, was a Cowboy's fan but despised the Mavericks. He knew Spanish because his grandfather was Puerto Rican and he spent his summers in Boston with the elderly man. Everything he told her made her say yes to a second date.

     "Can you pass me the marshmallows?" Wes asked holding his hand out. He refused to make eye contact with her, looking forward at the booth across the hay-lined path.

     Harmony grabbed the plastic bag of marshmallows then dropped them in his trembling hand. "You should put on your gloves."

      "I'm not cold." His voice hitched as he bent over grabbing red plastic cups from the bag.

      Harmony twisted her face at him, "Tell your teeth."

    "Whatever." Wes held his jaw trying to stop the clattering.

     Harmony grew tired of his attitude. She plucked one of his empty cups over. "Just say it already." She rested her hand on her waist, hidden underneath the cowl-neck sweater.

    "I don't have anything to say...to you." He quipped sitting the cup back up.

     Harmony swapped the cup again, causing it to tumble to the ground. "You don't have anything to say, huh!" She smacked down more cups. "To me!" She slapped down an entire row before he grabbed her arm.

      "Stop!" He pushed her arm back. "You're making a fool of yourself." He looked around at the strange eyes glaring at them as they passed by.

      "Let me ask—" She pulled her sleeves over her shaking hands wishing she had brought her own gloves. "Is it like the fool you made of yourself at the restaurant or at the club?"

      He stopped straighten the cups. He tilted his beanie-covered head, "You want to talk about this then let's talk." The rim of the cup buckled as he squeezed it. "You picked him over me...I asked you to leave with me!"

       "Uh?" She rested her index finger on her lip. "You didn't ask me to do shit. You ordered me like a child."

     "So did he!"

      "I am his child!" Harmony slid her hands in the back pocket of her black skinny jeans watching the vein on the side of Wes' neck pulsate. "Why are we together?"

       "Come again." He stopped playing with the cups.

      His puppy dog eyes made Harmony rethink her question then she refocused on the vein. "Why are we together? We fight more than we talk." She let the chilly breeze brush over her face. "You don't like my friends...and I'm not amused by yours." She pulled her hand from her pocket to scratch the nonexistent itch on her forehead. "All we do is fight and make out."

      He completely faced her, "Are you trying to hurt me?" His voice was but a whisper. "'Cause it's working." He tightly crossed his arms.

      "I'm just stating facts!" She held out her hands. "Being real! I want to know what.... we share in common."

      He looked at her like she was losing her mind. "We like football."

      "I watch for Samuel." She mimicked him crossing her arms. He frowned at her reply. She knew what he wanted her to say but if she said it, it was going to be a lie.

     "We like hiking."

      "True." She agreed with a nod.

     He slowly rubbed his hand across his mouth, "I think about you when I'm not with you."

      "You do?" Harmony asked in disbelief.

        "Yes." He breathed out moving closer to her. "All the time." He caressed her cheek letting his cold hand drain the heat from her face. "I love you."

       Love. Love was a strong word but she read it in his eyes. The way his pupils tripled in size and sparkled as she looked over her caramel skin. The way the corners of his mouth turned up and he didn't look away as a voluptuous girl in the skintight sweater dress passed by. Harmony figured it was time for her to say something but her lips were locked shut. Love! She screamed in her head. Was he crazy! Or maybe she was the one that was crazy. Yeah, they fought but so did her parents and look at them. They're a happy normal married couple.

     "I..." Her eyes danced in her head. "Need to get more stirrers." She pulled his hand off her face. "From the car." She backed up out the booth then sped off down the path. 

Does Wes really love her or is it a ploy? What do you think?