Over the Years

Chapter 2.

Wesley.

The guy who has sat behind in me in every single class. The guy who insists on entertaining small talk. The somewhat mischevious 'hunk' who thinks girls come and go like the wind. The guy who I absolutely cannot stand whatsoever.

Wesley makes it is his 'mission' if that's what you call it, to hit on every single girl in his grade at least once before the end of the school year. This tradition of his has been around since we were in middle school, and it never fails to disgust me.

My concern, however, is that today is the last day. And I haven't been hit on yet.

What's even worse is that every single girl goes on a tangent about how "I could never fall for that!" and "Ugh! Trust me, girl, I've got my head on straight!" But it ends the same way every flipping time. Wesley approaches them with his intimidating hot body, charming smile and flips his hair, and before you know it, the girl is like putty in his hands. Disgusting.

I cautiously sauntered through the halls all day, remaining on edge, just waiting to see Wesley so I could bolt in the other direction. But every time I would find him, I would breathe a sigh of relief, as he was always too busy 'making his rounds'.

By the time last period rolled around, I was full-blown scared. I, unfortunately, have some major trust issues with guys, and it absolutely petrified me that someone could treat girls with such disrespect. I knew that if I was hit on by Wesley, I would likely explode and probably say something that would land me on the front page of the yearbook. Yeah, better to avoid.

The other problem with this whole last period scenario was that Wesley always sits behind me. How am I supposed to avoid him if he's peering over at me for the entire period?

As the second bell rang and there was no sign of Wesley, I heaved a huge sigh of relief. With slight confusion, I reasoned in my mind that he must be skipping. After all, it is the last period on the last day.

Thank God. I just don't know what I would do if I was placed in that situation and couldn't get out.

I glanced back up towards the door, ecstatic that it wasn't too good to be true.

But it was.

Because when I focussed on the tall, muscular figure standing at the door, I realized that it was Wesley.

Wearing the same stupid smirk that he always has plastered on his stupid face, stupidly walking over to his stupid desk.