Tim and Wes

Chapter 4 - In a good mood (+18)

I hear a knock on my door. Surprised, I checked the time: 6.50 pm. I go to let Wes in, keeping on drying my hair.

"You're early! I'm not ready yet, sorry."

His severe gaze stops me in my tracks.

"Tim" he groans "because of you my storage is full!"

I laugh and let him come in. I close the door, he sits on the chair near my desk.

"Oops!" I titter. "But I warned you!"

"Ok, it was funny, but please don't do it again. I really need to focus in class. I am too absent-minded."

"Of course: I'll stop."

I keep towel-drying my hair and then apply a product on it before I finally brush it. He stares at me closely, it becomes scary.

"Anyway, how was the rest of your day?" I ask with a casual tone.

"I caught a glimpse of you while I was going out of my second class. (I raise my eyebrows.) You didn't notice me. (He lifts his eyes to my face.) You were with a guy..."

My brush stops moving through my hair. Oh-oh... He looks angry.

"At 2.30? (He nods.) Yeah, it was Don. Why?"

"According to what he said to me... you're 'fuck-friends'."

His voice is tense. Sighing, I put my brush down.

"I slept with him five times maximum, it was at the beginning of last year. I thought that going out with him could be cool, but I was wrong. He's not really into serious relationships, he has sex with anybody."

"It reminds me of someone else" Wes says, gnashing his teeth.

I open a drawer and take a crimson, close-fitting t-shirt with a black tiger design on the back.

"I know, it's the pot calling the kettle black. However, after a while I realized that Donald is a moron. I've tried to get him off my back, but from time to time he chats me up. (I pull on my t-shirt and look at Wes in the eyes.) I promise you I sent him packing. I told him that I have a boyfriend. Do you believe me?"

"Yes... But if he touches you again, please: kick him!"

"No way!" I snigger. "He could take that as an invitation!"

I take my jacket and put it on, then I lace up my sneakers. He gets up, hands in his pockets.

"Tim... Have you ever had trouble with an appearance like yours?"

"Are you thinking about physical assault for example? (He nods.) Yes, once or twice in bars there were men who were too insistent... but seeing that I have been practicing martial arts since I was ten years old, a blow in the stomach quickly discourages even the rashest ones."

"Yeah... I am not really convinced."

After switching off the ceiling light we go in the corridor. I lock the door.

"Are you skeptical? Sure, faced with a footballer like you, I don't weigh a lot, but I know to defend myself. You will agree with me if you see me practicing one day!"

We go on our way to the cinema.

****

"I took the large one so that we can share it. Here's your change!"

He slumps on his seat and undoes the wrapper around the ice cream he bought. We chose the last row to be quiet.

He squeezes the big bag of popcorn between the armrest and his thigh, flopping a bit more against the backrest. The film should begin in about ten minutes.