Becoming Brett

5. People

Wes' locker is the go to.

It's always been that way. Probably something I started. Actually I know it is.

It's not that Wes needs protecting. But he does. Sometimes from himself but also from everyone else. He shies away from confrontation which also isn't my thing but ya know, there's security in numbers. And I was nervous for Wes to come back to school.

I mean high school sort of sucks. Kids sort of suck.

And I know how Wes looks. He's a target, an easy target. There were some juniors and seniors our sophomore year that got off on asserting their dominance, picking on people.

Thank god Peter Hannigan got his crap together, he was the only decent one in the bunch and turned the tables. The only person that didn't follow his lead was Sawyer. Not that it surprised me.

I'm the last to join the bunch, our small group huddled with another like a pack. Our backs turned toward our peers, protecting ourselves from outsiders. Nodding my hello to Wes, I avoid James.

Which is easier said than done because he just got his hair cut and he's wearing this shirt that's not gray and not blue but something in between and it makes his eyes vibrant pulling different hues of gray to the forefront. And then ya know, his smile. And my mind wants to pull up memories of us in my wagon at our spot or the very first time that I kissed him and it all doesn't help.

I swallow hard, staring at my shoes as James starts in on a story. I love the way he talks, the way he speaks with his whole body, animated and alive. Like every little minuscule thing in the world is the best damn thing ever. I'm not sure if I've ever seen James not happy.

He laughs causing heat to creep up the back of my neck until it feels like my ears are about to catch fire.  But I can't help it, the sound of his laughter is like a warm spring breeze after a long cold winter. Awakening everything in its path as it brings rejuvenation and life back to everything that laid dormant. It makes my heart stampede in my chest and my thoughts distracted as I try to keep myself together. Ellie nudges me and I force a smile on my face as I join in with my friends.

"Oh man, it was so funny." James cries, the biggest grin I've ever seen someone make spread across his face.

But that's James. Full of energy and life and love.

"You're such a jerk James." Savannah shoves him, annoyed and fuming at her brother the way only a sister can. "It wasn't funny."

He chuckles out a hearty laugh, wiping at his face and I catch the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin and the slight bob of his Adam's apple. I need to stop watching him, the urge to march up to him and pull his lips to mine so overwhelming my fingers twitch and I shift on my feet.

But I'm so enthralled with him, the way someone can be so-so everything I'm not.

"Come on Van." He says, throwing his arm across her shoulders and pulling her close. "You were literally role playing with yourself about some guy and your first kiss. That's hilarious."

Embarrassment floods me as I avoid accidentally making eye contact with Savannah. I've gone this far pretending like I'm completely oblivious to her flirting and I intend on maintaining my ignorance as long as possible. I don't want to hurt Savannah's feelings, she's great, I love her, but she's not exactly my type. And I'm not sure how James hasn't figured it out yet that I'm the one that his sister is pining over. She's not exactly discrete about it.

It's sure to be a disaster if anyone were to ever find out. Add it to the list of reasons why James and I must stay a secret.

"Ugh, you're the absolute worst sometimes." Savannah's face is as red as a tomato, her dark hair spilling from its messy bun piled on top of her head.

She's got gray eyes, not quite as striking as James' though I might be biased, tall for a girl and lean just like he is. But unlike James, Savannah doesn't burst with life, she doesn't fill a room like James does. She's reserved, staying in the shadows of her brother. Absolutely talented when it comes to art. I have no doubt that she'll make a name for herself.

Wes tics, hitting me in the arm as he does. I bring my focus to him immediately. Studying his profile as he finishes up his tic. His hair is always crazy, bedhead making it worse. He's a side sleeper, the left side always smashed flat and sticking up. Sleep is the one time when his tics give him any sort of reprieve. They still happen, his body is never completely still. But he's quieter when he's cloaked in the heaviness of slumber, more peaceful.

The thing about Wes is he thinks his tics and his OCD make him a problem, a burden for the people around him. There's a slight adjustment period, as people get used to the fact that sometimes he's going to say some pretty colorful things. And yeah, things just have to be a certain way. But all of his chaos and all of his weird rules definitely don't over power the fact that Wes is kind, gentle, forgiving, the most empathetic person I've ever met. There's nothing but Wes, he has no fronts, no masks that he wears, he's just him. Even when he's suppressing, he's just Wes.

He doesn't stop caring for people. Even people that probably don't deserve his love. People that don't take the time to educate themselves, people that hurt him.

People like Sawyer.

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Virtual elementary sucks. There I said it.

We are not having any fun.