11 | wonderland

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WYATT WOKE UP groggy to the sound of his alarm’s jarring ring to find his bed empty and panicked at the possibility that he had only experienced a very lucid dream.

He grabbed his phone and scrolled to find that their text thread stopped at Wesley announcing his arrival then stuffed his face into his pillow and screamed; because when a boy kissed you like his life depended on it, you stood strong and willed your organs to keep from melting into a puddle in front of them. But as soon as they turned their back the gloves came off.

When he came up for air, the small black notebook on his bedside drawer served as further proof that the events of the past few hours were, in fact, very real.

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Opening it was a bad idea, but he figured that taking the journal with him to school wouldn’t hurt as he'd head over to Wesley’s workplace and return it, which killed two birds with one stone.

They’d kissed for close to twenty minutes, occasionally having to come up for air and stopping only when Wyatt dipped a finger into the other boy’s waistband and he pulled away.

He’d been intimate with a couple of his other boyfriends, and had sex with them if it felt right. But kissing Wesley definitely rose to the list of all his hookups, and it scared him to imagine what the sex would feel like.

Phenomenal and you know it, a voice in his head sneered. He’s done it with a lot of other people, and to him you’ll be nothing but a body count.

Shaking his head, he slipped on his Mayfield Academy sweater and stuffed Wesley’s journal into his back pack. He was more than a body count, and for once even his insecurities couldn’t run fast enough to catch up with him.

The rest of his day fell into the soft haze of a person too far gone.

He smiled for no reason during Biology and only stopped when he the teacher began to send him suspicious looks, drifting off in the middle of his classes to another world, where Wesley went to his school and they dated, held hands, kissed in the hallways between classes. His heart felt full, and Tobi had had enough.

“Who’s he?” he asked during study hall, eyes boring into Wyatt, who glanced coyly away.

“Nobody.”

“Bullshit, you only get like this when you like a guy―and it’s usually easy to ignore, but not this time, so this one must have a magic wand dick.”

Wyatt sputtered the water he was drinking and felt his face go hot as he went into a coughing fit when it went down the wrong passageway.

“Oh my God, first off: rude,” he began, cleaning the edges of his mouth which were wet. “And I am seeing a guy, but it’s nothing special.”

“Until he calls things off, and you’re crying to Viv on FaceTime while watching Me Before You and eating popcorn.”

He cringed. “I regret telling you about my post-breakup ritual, and you’re an asshole.”

“So who is he though?” Tobi pressed, causing a severe case of eye rolling on Wyatt’s part.

“We met at that art exhibition place you dragged me to,” he admitted grudgingly, and the skin on Tobi’s forehead furrowed and then cleared in realization.

“Jesus, that was about two months ago.”

Wyatt ignored him as he kept his eyes plastered to the screen of his phone.

“Oh my God,” the shorter boy breathed out finally, “it’s the tall man I saw you standing with, isn’t it?”

“He’s seventeen,” Wyatt said feebly, “About a year older than the both of us.”

“He looks dangerous.”

“I know, right?” he said excitedly, expression sobering when he noticed the agitation on Tobi’s face. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I know Tobi. I know.”

“But you don’t, actually.”

“Before you say something you'll regret just drop it, OK?”

“You never talk about stuff like this with me, why?”

“Oh stop being a baby and just grow up,” Wyatt murmured harshly, packing up his things to relocate to another corner of the room. The pleasant haze began to clear away as the irritation and exhaustion set in. “I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“I’m your best friend.” Tobi’s voice sounded small, naïve, and it sent a spike of irritation through Wyatt as he stood up.

we hang out with your posse but don't get it mixed up, you’re my only friend,” he countered harshly, knowing his next words would be a lie and barreling on anyways.

“There’s a difference.”

The words left a bitter tang on his tongue all through study hall, and even into his lunch break.

The truth was that while he loved Tobi, it was very difficult to like him sometimes, watching him flit across groups and seeing the smiles that lit across people’s faces when he came around. It was resentment he felt when he thought of how easy it would be for him to abandon him and find new friends, like his mother had.

Staying at the cafeteria was out of the question and so Wyatt trudged to the library, bag in hand as he dropped into a worn futon at the only corner of the room that had not undergone a remodeling. It was like entering a whole new world.

He imagined it was what Alice felt like when she fell down the rabbit hole and down into Wonderland. His fingers itched to reach for Wesley’s journal but he kept them busy, crosschecking his Spanish homework which was not due for a few days more, starting on the practice questions at the back of his math textbook in preparations for his exams, until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He set his things aside and pulled out the book, eyes going over the small swirly lines etched on its leather cover, fingers tracing them. When he got tired of that, he sighed deeply.

Just a little bit, and if it’s a diary you must stop because prying is not fun, or fresh.

He blamed Wesley for keeping him in the dark and Tobi for prying. He blamed the lack of sleep, and his curious mind. He blamed Alice and Wonderland.

But none of it mattered, because Wyatt Carter cracked the first page open, and began to read.

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