CVI. ... --- ...

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When Wes got back to the house, he was so distracted he forgot Chloe was having someone over.

Maybe that's why he was so surprised when they walked into Chloe's room, where he was sitting on his bed and trying to word a text to Nick.

"Oh, Jenna, this is Wes. Wes, this is Jenna," Chloe said.

Wes wasn't quite sure how to greet her. People his age didn't really shake hands, he'd definitely figured that out. He settled on a sort of half-wave and smile. She smiled back at him, turning back to Chloe.

That worked.

Focusing his attention back on his phone, he didn't hear their conversation.

"Damn, Clo, you told me you were getting a foster brother, not a hot foster brother," she mumbled.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Don't even start. There's a reason he's in a foster home, you know."

"His parents aren't alive and there's no one to house him?" Jenna said.

She laughed. "Funny."

"No, seriously. Isn't that it?"

Chloe looked at her in disbelief. "Did you not meet the last foster kid we had? His parents weren't dead, they were in jail for abusing him. He was always angry and violent."

Jenna's eyes widened. "Wow. I thought he was just a bitch." She half-glanced at Wes. "Well, what's he like, then?"

"He came here yesterday, we can't tell yet. But he's really quiet, he said about five sentences at dinner last night. And, like, formal. It could be an act, I don't really know."

"And he's hot," Jenna mumbled. "Then why's he here?"

"I don't know. Nobody told me."

"Well, then ask." Jenna rolled her eyes.

"Jenna, you can't just ask–"

She had already turned to Wes. "Wes, why're you in a foster home?"

"–someone why they're in a foster home. You idiot." Wes couldn't hear her, or tell she was talking.

Wes looked startled. "Oh, um, my mother and father are in prison," he said softly.

"Don't you dar–"

"Why?"

Chloe felt like smacking Jenna upside the head. You just didn't ask things like that.

"Um, they were charged with child maltreatment." He was quiet, but his voice was clear.

Jenna frowned. "Aw, I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

It was that question that stumped Wes. Someone asked for information, he gave it to them. Someone asked him to do something, he did it.

This didn't have a definite answer. He didn't know whether saying yes or no would make her happy.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"No, no," he quickly reassured her. "It's just... I've never been asked that before." Not in this situation, at least. He didn't have a prepared answer.

Wes was used to saying that around his friends, when he didn't understand something or looked confused. They didn't make it out to be a big deal.

Chloe and Jenna, on the other hand, looked appalled. He bit the inside of his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Nobody's ever asked you that before?" Jenna asked, stunned.

He was about to answer when his phone rang.

Nick.

His eyes darted from the contact screen to Chloe and Jenna. Surely it was important– Nick hardly ever called anyone– but he was in the middle of a conversation.

"Go ahead," Chloe said.

"Thank you," he said, answering it. "Nick, what's–"

"Okay Jeff's not answering me and you just texted you so I called you and I know you're not really in the best situation to help me right now–"

"Just go ahead and say it."

"So I had an argument with Aaron and I realized that if I just ran to the police stationespecially after what happenedthey won't be able to deny what my parents do, so I ran down here, but it's closed, and Aaron told them I was heading down here so they're going to find me."

"Okay– um– try not to panic, okay? That was stupid to say. Where are you right now?" Wes completely forgot he wasn't alone in the room.

"I'm on the side of the building, trying not to be seen. And yeah, I'm panicking."

"I'm going to go get you. I– I'm going to head down there."

"And then what?"

"I don't know, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But, I mean, witnesses, right?"

"You're not helping."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Wes was already on his feet, rushing down the steps and out the door. He didn't even think to tell anyone he was leaving.

"Times like this I wish I hadn't left my car at my house," he said as he bolted down the street. "Luckily their house isn't too far from it."

"Wes, what's going on?"

Nick sounded terrified, worrying Wes even more. "What do you mean? Can you describe it?"

"I don'tI don't know. I'm shaking, I can't stop shaking. I can't breathe."

"Nick, I think you're having a panic attack. Listen to me," Wes said calmly. "I promise you, it will end. I can't tell you when, but it will end. Can you tell me some things you see?"

"U-um... A tree... The police station..." Nick swallowed before adding in a whisper, "My parents."

Wes had arrived at the station, taking in the scene before him. Nick's family getting out of a car in the parking lot, Nick hidden from their sight behind an oak tree.

Careful to stay out of sight, Wes hung up and slipped next to Nick. "Hey," he whispered.

Nick, who had been shaking violently, immediately latched onto him. He seemed to calm down drastically just by Wes being there.

"Okay, I'm going to create a diversion, and you're going to follow me, okay?"

Nick nodded. Wes picked a rock up off the ground, slowly getting them both standing up. "Ready?"

He nodded again.

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