Prying

Wesley seemed like a jerk, dating me and then hitting on Sonny behind my back. Later she told me it was a misunderstanding, I forgave her (after revenge of course) and continued on my little walk, I followed the sounds of protesting and saw Wesley being carried out by guards. They dropped him like a sack of flour and headed off. I felt a sense of pride and was debating whether or not go and rub it in his face. But when I turned to walk over and gloat at the dejected-12year-old boy I saw something shocking. Wesley had his face buried in his lap, crying-no sobbing.

I was scared but I wanted to help.

Cautiously I walked in front of him, my face showing concern.

I crouched down and whispered,

"Wesley?"