West [ COMPLETED ]

XVII

He didn't tell me to put my feet back in the window again. He didn't tell me to do anything the rest of the trip.

That easy companionship I had felt in the beginning was gone, replaced by a wall of some sort. We talked occasionally, but it was not the same, and we always eventually lapsed back into silence. It was as if there was nothing left to say.

He asked me if I was hungry for dinner and I nearly laughed. The nausea was gone, but in it's place was a dull, throbbing sorrow.

"No, I'm not hungry." I said, shaking my head, keeping my expression neutral.

"Ave, you havnt eaten anything all day." He said gently.

"Not hungry," I said, typing on my Russian keyboard. The last hour I'd done nothing but lesson after lesson, drowning my misery in the complexity of a different language.

"Okay. We'll just go on to our camp site. I'm not hungry either. "

This made me look up. Weston was always hungry. He stared stonily ahead at the road, a dark expression on his face.

He was upset.

Good.

He could join the club.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

We stopped in western Kansas, on the prairie, but there was a line of trees where a small river ran through, and that's where we made our camp.

There was a clearing under the trees, only feet from the shallow creek, perfect for the tent, our chairs, and the hammock.

A little firegrate stood between some trees, but we didn't start anything.

We sat in our camp chairs, gazing at the meandering creek, some soft country music playing from his speaker on the tailgate, accompanied by cicadas and crickets and the muffled noises from a few other campers.

A sigh escaped my lips before I could check the sadness in it, and I felt Weston's eyes on me.

"Hey Ave?"

"....Yeah?"

"I want to talk to you." He leaned forward in his chair.

No. No, no, no, I couldn't listen to what he had to say, if he started with his sweet kind words my shell was going to break.

I was frozen though. I couldn't let him know how much I cared.

"Okay, about what?" I found myself saying.

"I think you're one of the coolest girls I've ever met. I like you a lot." I mentally thickened my shell in response to these words, these platonic meant-to-comfort-me words.

Outwardly I smiled at him and said "Thank you, that's really nice to hear."

"No Avery, I like you a lot...way more than I fucking should."

He was waiting for me to say something, but I was focusing on not letting myself cry, trying to calm my quickening breathing. He was destroying my entire plan. I wasn't ready for this.

"Do you understand me Avery?" He asked.

"...Yes." I allowed myself to say, the word coming out lower and more broken than I'd intended. Full of emotion.

"But I understand you're still really young, a lot younger than me, and I'd still feel like I was... taking advantage of you...if I...asked you...to be in a relationship with me," he continued with difficulty.

Ah. There it was. I knew there was more. The hope that had started in my heart quickly died out, and I was glad I had maintained my shell so fiercely.

"It's fine. I understand," I said, as evenly as I could, but my emotions broke through with the last word, causing me to clear my throat, and put a hand to my throbbing temple, which ached from the pressure of holding back tears.

I couldn't even say that I didn't like him back so he didn't have to worry about it, which is what I wished I could say, but we would both know it was a lie and when he was being so honest with me I couldn't say that to him.

"Maybe in a few years... it could work out...if we reconnected, saw where we were at." He clasped and unclasped his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees and looking intently at me.

Joy and disappointment both tried to soar in my heart at the same time, at the realization that he was telling me he wanted to date me, and at the feeling that this was just another adult giving me a false hope of something that would never happen. Men didn't wait around for girls to grow up. They found someone prettier, more experienced, different,and they moved on. I'd seen Weston do it four times in the few years I'd known him. He wouldn't be waiting around for me.

I looked at him, gave him the best smile I could, and said, "Don't worry about it Wes. I'll get over it." Which is the closest I'd come to showing him my real feelings all day.

He was silent, not knowing how to respond I suppose.

"I'm serious Avery," He eventually said.

I nodded. "So am I."

He sighed, I guess accepting what I said, because he stood up.

"Alright, well I guess we should get some sleep," he said softly.

I nodded and stood up, very much ready for bed.

"I think I'm going to sleep in the hammock," Weston began, but I cut him off.

"No you're not. Get in the tent," I said, rolling my eyes, glad I could show a real emotion for once.

He just stood there quietly, hands in his pockets, and stared at me.

"Don't I deserve one last night of your drooling death clutch to remember you by?" I joked.

He threw back his head and laughed.

"I guess so."

We gazed at each other through the dark, barely able to discern anything but the other's form and the glitter of their eyes, but it felt like we were saying goodbye.