Saving Laurel

58. Not Needed

Laurel Gilroy

Wes is cute. Sitting nervously in my front seat, fussing with the dials on the dashboard just like he did the first time he ever got in my car. The night he had dinner at my house with my parents. It took us a minute to get in, sort of like at school the first day I went to his house to work on music and the second time. When he officially got in. But this wasn't preplanned and Brett wasn't there to give him a ride. He talked a lot, rambling on about his OCD and the thoughts that were going through his head. Even called his mom to make sure she was okay. But alas he climbed in, tic-ing a lot but they don't bother me. I finally understand what Ellie meant, you get used to them to the point where you don't even see them.

He goes through quite a few tics in a row, a wide variety and I reach my hand across my car and find his while I drive.

"Thanks" he tells me but it had nothing to do with him tic-ing and everything to do with the fact I just wanted to hold his hand.

I don't tell him that though. Instead I just smile and silently tell my heart not to burst through my chest.

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I round the corner with two cups of ice cream in my hand to see Sawyer talking to Wes. Instantly my senses heighten as I strain to hear what Sawyer is saying. Just my luck I brought Wes to the one place in town Sawyer also happens to be at.

I've never witnessed Sawyer in the act trying to make Wes tic, the closest I've ever come was the hallway way back when but I must have caught the tail end that day. But now I hear Wes blurt out a swear word. He does his normal tic immediately after.

And then to my horror I watch Sawyer laugh and imitate him.

Before I can think twice I'm stomping toward them.

"Hey!" I shout but I have to repeat myself to be heard over Wes. "Hey! Stop!"

I discard the ice creams on a sill of a building, before I storm up to Sawyer and shove him as hard as I can. He barely steps back, throwing his hands up in the air. I will not let Sawyer to do this, I won't let someone bully Wes into a fit.

"Whoa! Calm down there. I was just talking to Wes." Sawyer says light heartedly.

Wes grunts and I catch his movements in my peripheral vision. His coprolalia is full blown as he throws out obscenity, one after another. I'm vaguely aware we're starting to attract attention.

"No! This isn't funny!" I scream at Sawyer, hell bent on making sure he can hear me over Wes. "Do you know what he does to himself?!"

Sawyer mumbles out some words that are lost in the noise and I turn to Wes because I know he's suppressing his tics still even though a lot are still happening.

"Stop suppressing Wes." I tell him.

"FUCK OFF! Argh!" His palm slaps the brick wall he's pressed against and then his head jerks to the side and he whistles.

"Show him." I push. "Show him what he makes you do."

I'm desperate for Wes to let go. I want Sawyer to see how much he effects Wes. How much damage he causes. That he can't just walk through life saying and doing whatever he wants because he effects people. And he's hurting Wes.

Wes tics hard, his body a flurry of movements as he strains against the urges. He clicks, slapping his hands together, which I've never seen or heard him do.