Words left Unsaid. [Wesley Stromberg.]

Chapter 10

Here ya go. Vote, comment, blah blah. enjoyyyy!

Drew's POV.

I kiss her lips and they never detach. Her lips taste like strawberry Chapstick.

"Oh God!" Vicki moans repeatedly into my mouth as I thrust into her, again and again, speeding up with each thrust.

"Holy shit," I mumble against her lips.

"I'm.. I'm almost there," she whispers against my cheek, and I kiss her, saying, "Ditto."

"Mm, oh my god!" Vicki moans as we both cum, and I pull out of her, collapsing on top of her.

"Owww, Drew, baby."

"Shit, sorry," I apologise, lying down next to her instead. I tuck one arm beneath my head and she turns over so she's lying on her stomach.

I look at her, and she looks at me, and in that moment I know that we are meant to be.

I pull up the comforter and she snuggles into my chest, tickling me a bit.

I laugh, shutting my eyes.

"That was so good," she mumbles. "Sweet sex is the best."

She looks at me, and kisses my nose.

"We made love," I correct her.

She looks at me with a slight fading smile.

"So, um if you haven't figured this out already.." I fumble around with the words that I should say. "I'm in love with you."

She looks dumbstruck. She IS dumbstruck. Because yeah, till about three weeks back, we were arch enemies, so. Yep, I don't exactly blame her but.

"Okay," she finally says in a breath.

"Okay?" That's it? No 'I love you too'?

"Yes. Okay." She smiles and I suddenly resurrect from my memory her telling me that her favourite book currently is The Fault In Our Stars by John Green. And I'm no Einstein with books but, I know enough to know that this was a part of the book:

' "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Perhaps 'Okay' will be our 'Always'." '

Perhaps it will.

"Bro," I say, shooting down Wesley's wuss of a character in the video game.

"Let's just play Call of duty: Zombies, please," he mutters as the game ends.

"No, bro, listen," I say, and he looks over at me.

"I'm in love."

"With?" He asks, putting the controller down.

"Vicki."

He stares at me. Then, finally he says:

"Totally original."

Wesley's POV.

"Yes, ma?" I ask as I walk into the kitchen, where my mother is, sitting at the counter, her head lowered onto the table.

Keaton is standing near one of the open china cabinets, his face is read and blotchy, and on the floor next to him lies a shattered china plate.

"Mom?" I say, my voice trembling.

She looks at me, and tears form at the rims of my eyes. She holds her head in her hands, shaking it.

I sniffle. "Where to this time?" I ask.

Mum looks up at me. "New York."

"When?"

"Two weeks from now."

"School?"

"I have that figured. They just need to meet you this week. Or maybe the week after that."

"Okay," I say. "Okay. Just tell me the necessary details."

"'Kay, sweetie."

I turn on my heels, when Keat says:

"That's all? Aren't you fucking sick of this? I mean, c'mon!"

I turn to look at him.

His voice trembles with every word, because he's crying.

"You go to a place, you love it, the people love you. And you're in love. With the most beautiful girl and you have the best friends and your life is so chill and then bam! Let's move again so you can go through the pathetic process of socialisation again. It's not easy for me, Wes. It might be for you, but I'm shy. And I'm tired. I'm fucking tired."

He wipes his tears and looks at me, while mom is crying.

I take a deep breath, and say through gritted teeth:

"Mom will tell us when we need to go to meet up with the people from the school, and when that day comes, you will pack your bags, get on the fucking plane with me, and get your punk ass to New York! Do you understand?"

I'm screaming by then and don't even wait for his reply as I storm off to my room, and I see Keaton and hear him break another plate in the background.

Because somewhere, someday, sometime it'll all be okay and it'll stop hurting so much.

Ps.: pweeease help me grow this story, if by some miracle someone is reading. I don't know how I'm gonna do that though. Please leave me some suggestions I suck at being an awesome, popular person on the internet.