Tattooed

VIII

I awoke with a start. Stumbling out of bed I opened the door and someone barged inside and shut it. I scrambled away. When my focus cleared I realized it was Wes.

"Wes?" I whisper exclaimed. "What are you doing here? At one o'clock in the morning?"

Wes had this wild look. His tied back hair was coming undone and his flannel shirt had grass stains and rips. He looked like he had ran a marathon through a forest.

"I'll explain but right now I need somewhere to hide." He responded guiding me with his hand against my back.

"How do you even know where I live?!"

"I told you I'll explain everything but right now we need to go somewhere where no one can see us!" he hissed.

I'll admit I was scared and it reminded me how I thought he might've been a murderer when I first met him. Nevertheless I led him to my bedroom and shut the door.

"Okay. Explain now or I'm calling the guards."

Wes gave me a wry half smile. "The guards, dear Cecil, are exactly who I'm running from." I looked at him taken aback. "I was visiting my mom and some guards saw me while I was heading back to Courageous and chased me. I remembered watching you head home so I ran here to hide. They're probably still looking for me." He sat down on my bed as if everything was okay now.

"So I'm harboring a fugitive that's what you're telling me?" I couldn't believe it. I was perfectly fine with never seeing Wes again and here he is hiding from the guards at my house. I had half a mind to kick him out where the guards could see him. But I remembered that his mom was sick and the Clement part of me couldn't do that to him.

"Cecil calm down. No one will know. I just need to hang here a few hours so I can escape when those guards give up on searching."

"Hours?" I exclaimed. He was crazy.

"Are you all flustered because you have a good looking guy like me on your bed?" He smirked.

I snorted. "Your arrogance is going to get you kicked out." He laughed and held up his hands in defeat. "You're not good looking either."

He feigned hurt. "You know Cecil that's the cattiest remark I ever heard you say."

It was one in the morning of course I couldn't accept Wes' cockiness right now. All I wanted to do was climb in bed and sleep but that was a definite no with Wes in my house. I decided to get some food from the kitchen.

"Wait where are you going?" Wes questioned when I was at the door.

"I'm just getting some food not the guards." I laughed. I could visibly see Wes relax. He laid down on my bed and asked if I could get him something too. I sighed and went into my kitchen.



I came back with a plate of meatballs and sat on the bed next to Wes.

"Meatballs?" He raised an eyebrow. I made a face at him and stuffed one in my mouth. He chuckled and plucked one off the plate. "Woah these are really good. You made these?"

I nodded. "My younger sister was the chef in our house but meatballs were the one think I could beat her at. I made them because I was feeling...homesick."

Wes looked at me with sympathy. I felt a bit uncomfortable with him staring at me like that. Then he faced me with certain seriousness. "You should write them a letter or something."

"What? No!" I faltered. "That would be breaking the law, and-and my parents wouldn't..."

"Yeah I know. If my mom could stand without help she would send me straight back to Courageous."

We sat and ate meatballs in silence. I would have preferred Wes' remarks than spend another second of silence.

Finally Wes spoke up. "You don't talk a lot for a Clement ya know. Aren't you guys suppose to be nice and friendly?"

"Well maybe that's the reason I'm in Creative. I can't strike up a conversation."

Wes stretched. "The stratum you're sorted into reflect the person you are, not the person you aren't. Like me for instance," he lifted his sleeve and showed off a tattoo of a skyscraper. "I scaled this building."

I gawked at him. "You're insane! Why would you climb a building?"

Wes snickered. "I was joking. This building was being robbed until I stopped the robber."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "The building climbing story sounds more believable."

"Well believe what you want. But that's what happened. But that's the most outrageous thing I did. All the other courageous things I did were just standing for what I believe in. That's real courage you know."

I remember my mom's tattoo on her neck with the words "What you stand for."

"What about you Cecil? What tattoos do you have?" I show him my creative symbol on my wrist. Wes swats it away. "Come on, we've talked several times and we know nothing about each other.

"Fine." I relented. "Let's get to know each other. I'm Cecil Merzel, I like the color green and sugar in my tea. My little sister ups me in everything, and I'm nice enough to let a stranger hide from guards in my room but not nice enough to tell him about my tattoos."

Wes gives me a grin. "Fair enough. I like white. It's pure. I'm not much of a tea or coffee person but I do enjoy my share of alcohol. I don't have any siblings and I'm creative enough to remember I know someone who will let me hide in their house."

The conversation continues like that for an hour or so and I find I actually like Wes' company. Sure he's cocky and makes smug remarks but he's also charming and considerate. He's made me laugh in a way I've never really laughed before.

It's 3 am when Wes says it's safe to leave. "I'm not worth two hours of endless searching. And I have to get back to my stratum before morning."

We get up and leave the bedroom. I open the door for him and he heads out. But before he leaves he turns around and gives me his infamous smirk. "We should do this again sometime. Minus the chased by guards part."

I waver. "It was nice..." But it wasn't allowed.

He nods his head and says he'll barge in again soon. He leaves closing the door and all I can think is: "Did I really just befriend a law-breaker and agree to have more illegal late night meetings?”